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You Are Prey

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City of Phants

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Zeus

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ATLAS Trilogy (published by 47North)

ATLAS

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A Captain's Crucible

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Test of Mettle

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Planet Killer

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A Second Chance

The Mirror Breaks

They Have Wakened Death

I Have Seen Forever

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Walls of Steel

The Pendulum Swings

The Last Stand

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The Ethan Galaal Series

Clandestine

A Cold Day in Mosul

Terminal Phase

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RADE’S FURY

ARGONAUTS

BOOK SEVEN

Isaac Hooke

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, organizations, places, events and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously.

Text copyright © Isaac Hooke 2017

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be copied, reproduced in any format, by any means, electronic or otherwise, without prior consent from the copyright owner and publisher of this book.

www.IsaacHooke.com

Cover design by Isaac Hooke

Cover image by Shookooboo

Special thanks to the following Beta Readers who helped out with this book:

Nicole P.

Gary F.

Sandy G.

Lance W.

Amy B.

Myles C.

Lisa A. G.

Gregg C.

Jeff K.

Mark C.

Mark P.

Jeremy G.

Doug B.

Jenny O.

Gene A.

Larry J.

Allen M.

Norman H.

Robine

Eric

And thank you to the following Special Consultants:

Martin P.

Don M.

table of contents

one

two

three

four

five

six

seven

eight

nine

ten

eleven

twelve

thirteen

fourteen

fifteen

sixteen

seventeen

eighteen

nineteen

twenty

twenty-one

twenty-two

twenty-three

twenty-four

twenty-five

twenty-six

twenty-seven

twenty-eight

twenty-nine

thirty

thirty-one

postscript

about the author

acknowledgments

one

The dark ship drifted through the main belt of the asteroids. Despite the numerous sensors and beacons placed throughout the system, that insidious craft proceeded undetected toward the planet of its conquerors, slipping right through the defense lines. All the science and technology the former conquerors had couldn’t protect them from what was coming.

The vessel occasionally launched small pods when it neared the outposts and stations in that system, and where those capsules touched, dark veins spread outward across the metal of said structures, converting them to the ship’s control.

The craft continued its advance unnoticed for the next three days until it reached the object of its wrath, a blue and white planet orbited by an atmosphereless moon. The dark vessel initiated a series of cascading operations meant to isolate the planet from the rest of the galaxy, clearing the way for the ship and the Sentience that occupied it to begin the systematic defeat of their former conquerors.

Through the white clouds that sheathed the quaint planet, in an out of the way corner of a country famous for wine production, a man labored in the fields alongside robot workers. He, like most civilians, had no idea what was taking place in orbit above.

Some of the machines with him were humanoid. Many were former combat robots, temporarily repurposed to function as pickers. Like him, they tenderly separated grapes from vines and placed them in large wicker baskets.

Those robots were an interesting bunch: all of the original workers had been freed when the Franco-Italian AI Anti-Slavery Act went into effect, but most had chosen to stay, participating in the profit-sharing the owners had offered them. It was doubtful they had stayed simply for the money—most likely it was because they had known no better life. The man had stayed in the military for as long as he did for similar reasons.

Sure, a few of the robots had gone off to explore the world, but had come back when they saw how most humans viewed robots. Attitudes had improved over the past fifty years, but a robot still faced a harsh life out there. The Franco-Italians were one of the few to pass that act. Robots could still be bought and owned in other parts of the world and galaxy—including the United Systems. If such a law were passed universally, people would lose ownership of sentient AIs across the galaxy, including starships. Unless the AIs chose to stay, like these robots had.

The other farming robots were out in full force. The gatherers, whose multiple arms and central vats were designed to rapidly pick grapes. The airborne drones, retrofitted with downward-hanging collectors so that they looked like floating octopuses held aloft by four buzzing rotors. None of these latter farming robots were fully sentient, and thus didn’t qualify as AIs under the act—autonomous was a better description of them.

Ordinarily, only the gatherers would be out there amid the vines, but the harvest was late this year, and the machines joined forces to pick as many of the grapes as possible before the first frosts.

Rade didn’t really have to be out there, as his slow human hands wouldn’t make all that much difference to the overall collection, but he did it as a show of solidarity for the robot workers. He never ordered a crew member to do something he himself wouldn’t do, and he wanted to show that to the robots. It was part of his leadership style, even if he wasn’t directly in charge at the moment.

Rade paused as the stem he was concentrating on bobbed uncontrollably in a rising breeze. He glanced up as the wind gusted harder, and he searched the horizon, but there was no sign of any storm clouds.

The gust died down and he returned to picking. Shaw had only just gone inside, having retired for the day.

He smiled, thinking about her living the life of a vintner. Rade had tried to sell Shaw and her parents on an assembly line farming system, which involved each vine growing in a self-contained, mobile unit: essentially potted plants on tracks. When the time came to harvest, the individual units were hoisted, conveyor-belt style, inside a central processing facility and systematically plucked of grapes. The conveyor system also made it easy to prune the vines during the growing season, and to treat them for any insect infestations. 

But Shaw rejected the very idea of an assembly line. She wanted to keep the growing process as natural as possible. Shifting the position of the plants during the growing process would influence the “character” of the wine, she claimed, and negatively impact the taste. The cost of such a system was also prohibitive: even if she sold all her farming robots, she would only recover enough to pay for a third of the assembly line installation. And of course, her parents would never approve. Though Shaw had a majority stake, she ceded to the will of her parents in all estate matters.

Rade thought of the road that had led him to this moment. Surus was still his main client; two years had passed without further signs of Phant presence in human space. In the last operation, the team had captured hundreds of them, and then trapped the entities in the core of a star. Rade was beginning to think there were no more Phants left in this region of space. The mission was probably close to being done. Then again, Surus had lost many of her eyes and ears after her falling out with the other Greens, and even though she had trained new ones from the robots and humans among her contacts, none of them were as good as the Greens had been at ferreting out other Phants.

Since they had seen such little action, Surus had allowed Rade and his team an extended liberty. A paid liberty, at that. Rade had chosen to take it on Earth. The alien herself had gone away for six months to set up a new base of operations, but didn’t tell Rade where the base was. She had taken the Acceptor with her, a teleportation device capable of sending robots and organic life to matching units distributed throughout the galaxy. She had also transported several other artifacts and a couple of alien bodies formerly stowed aboard the Argonaut to her new base. Noctua, her robot owl personal assistant, had gone with her as well. 

Surus had recently returned to Earth without the owl, and the last time she had spoken with Rade, she was in the heart of China. Rade had asked if she had any upcoming missions for the team, and the answer was: very soon. That was two months ago.

While Rade and Shaw had gone to her vineyard in France, the rest of the team had originally split up, some of them going to United Systems territories in North America, others dispersing throughout Western and Eastern Europe. Of late the rest of the team had gathered upon the French Riviera, apparently unable to stay apart from one another for overlong.

Most of the team members had local girlfriends, save for Bender and Manic, who, when they weren’t in the gym, spent their days on the beaches. Under the pretext that they were surfers, they walked up and down the beaches with surfboards, chatting up the finest specimens of the female species that caught their eyes. They never did any actual surfing, of course—the swells in that area weren’t very well suited for it. But they claimed their board routine allowed them to secure ten to twenty IDs a day, and at least one date per night. Whenever Rade saw them, they always had a new girl hanging from their arms, so it must have been working. Even Harlequin had gotten himself a human girlfriend of late, which Rade found surprising, as he thought the Artificial would have preferred one of its own. But who was he to judge what company a sentient being chose for itself?

The team had pooled their money to rent out a large villa on the beach, and they lived in the shared accommodations with their girlfriends. Well, everyone except Tahoe, who had shipped his wife and family over—he rented out a much smaller villa close by. When he had first arrived, Tahoe and his family had stayed in the vineyard’s guesthouse, but Rade had sent his family packing when Tahoe insisted on helping out with farming duties. Rade wanted his friend to enjoy his liberty, not work through it.

Rade visited the team on weekends, as the vineyard was only a short drive away. He would have flown, but personal aircraft were restricted in the region; Shaw didn’t own any drones capable of transporting humans anyway.

The men were based near Saint Tropez on the Côte d’Azur. When Rade arrived on weekends, he often had to bail one or another of the Argonauts out of jail for disorderly conduct. Bender and Manic were the usual suspects, though lately Lui, TJ, and even Tahoe had spent time behind bars. It was worrying. Rade knew he had to get them a mission soon before the team became too restless.

As he picked grapes, Rade’s mind continued to wander. He thought of Shaw’s parents, who were currently on vacation in Marseille. It was just like them to take a vacation when the harvest was late. They were very hands off, and in fact had ceased most involvement with the day-to-day operations of the estate years ago. He remembered Shaw’s father saying something along the lines of: “What’s the point of having a passive income stream if it isn’t truly passive!”

Her parents owned about forty-percent of the vineyard: they had gifted Shaw the remainder. That was before Rade had started his security consulting business, when they thought Shaw was going to take over the family estate. They were probably more than a bit disappointed when she had packed up and left Earth to roam the galaxy with her ex-MOTH boyfriend. Though they seemed happy when Shaw finally returned with a baby under each arm.

Because of the rejuvenation treatments, neither parent appeared older than Rade or Shaw. In fact they seemed younger, looking like two college sweethearts fresh out of university.

When he first saw them, Rade told Shaw: “Promise me you and I will never overdo our treatments like that.”

Shaw nodded. “It’s very strange to have parents who appear younger than you do. Though it’s also comforting, in a way. It makes me feel like they’ll be here for me forever.”

Rade had allowed his Marauder class starship, the Argonaut, to take a liberty of its own: he had booked the starship in an extended storage facility in high Earth orbit. Bax, the ship’s AI, had linked into Cradle Online, a shared virtual environment utilized not only by the AIs of other starships in the dock, but robots planet-wide. It was essentially a massively multiplayer online role playing game designed by AIs for AIs. While humans could log into the environment as well, the game world mechanics were nonsensical to them. Rade had once tried it himself, and found himself floating disembodied in a world of giant molecules, where the only means of transportation was the excitation of electrons around protons, and by hitching a ride onto the resultant photon that was produced. Very weird.

He popped a grape into his mouth, and glanced at the blue sky. He felt the heat of the sun on his face. The whir of servomotors competed with a band of nearby robins to fill the soundscape. The grape was ripe, sweet.

Ah France, I’ve missed you.

Sometimes he wondered why he had joined the military, and the irony of it all wasn’t lost on him. He had joined and fought so very hard mostly to gain citizenship in the United Systems, and now that he had it, he didn’t even bother to live there, or to utilize all the benefits that came with said citizenship. Yes, he sometimes wondered why he had crossed that border and enlisted in the first place.

But then he had to remind himself: if he hadn’t, he would have never met Shaw. Nor the other warriors who had become his closest friends. He would not be the man he was today.

The wind picked up once again, more violently than before. Frowning, Rade glanced at the horizon. Annoyance quickly gave way to concern. In the distance, he saw a fast approaching storm front.

It had formed far too fast to have developed naturally.

two

Rade hadn’t noticed any storms scheduled for that day on the InterGalNet. It was possible a forest fire had broken out somewhere, and the weather satellites had seeded the storm as part of the preparatory measures to calm the conflagration before the autonomous fire fighting units arrived.

He quickly checked the weather widget via his Implant. There were no notices. Not even a storm warning.

Well, that’s odd.

Climate control would prevent the storm from getting too bad, of course. But the robots couldn’t work if the rain became too heavy, nor if the wind continued to gust so hard. And although he hadn’t seen any signs of lightning, that was another reason to bring the robots in during a storm.

“All right, you stinkin’ farm animals,” Rade sent over the adhoc network formed between his Implant and the comm nodes of the nearby robots. “Storm’s coming. Deposit your latest batches in the winery and then shack up! Algorithm, make a quick run of the field to ensure none of the robots are left behind.” It was possible one of the robots might be toiling beyond the range of the adhoc network, since Rade hadn’t gotten around to installing boosters on the site.

“Yes, boss,” the aforementioned Centurion replied. Algorithm, like most of the combat robots, was accustomed to life aboard the Argonaut, but it had adapted quickly to the demands of the estate. Its humanoid body was composed of military-grade polycarbonate, its arms and legs blocky tubes with round servomotors at the joints. The box-shaped head was featureless, covered by a smooth polycarbonate plate in front.

“George, we got a storm,” Rade transmitted.

George Stanley was the caretaker, an Artificial who had been with the family for fifty years. He resided in the caretaker’s apartment on the estate.

“I see it,” George replied over the comm.

“Rade, better wrap up out there,” Shaw sent over the same network.

“I’m wrapping up, don’t you worry,” Rade replied.

He remotely accessed the doors of the winery and Quonset, and opened both of them. The autonomous drones and gatherers swooped inside the former, depositing their grape baskets, and then made their way to the Quonset. The rotors of the drones buzzed loudly in complaint as the machines fought the strong wind. When the last of them were inside, Rade locked the latter building.

The humanoid robots—Rade’s own Centurions, along with the vineyard units they worked with—similarly dumped their grapes into the winery, then hurried to the two story building adjacent to the caretaker’s apartment. That building was reserved for robot workers. Two hundred years ago it had been used to board temporary migrants, but since robots had obsoleted such workers, the building was reserved exclusively for the humanoid machines that had become permanent fixtures on the estate over the years.

After entering the apartment, the robots proceeded to batten down the shutters from the inside.

Rade glanced at the storm clouds again. They ate up nearly all of the sky by then, and were colored an ominous greenish black. He braced himself against a sudden gust of cold wind; it felt almost strong enough to bowl him over.

The gust faded and Algorithm appeared at his side.

“You think these buildings will stand up to those winds?” Algorithm asked.

“I hope so,” Rade said.

“And what about the grape crop?” Algorithm pressed.

“That’s a question for Shaw or George,” Rade said. He truly had no idea what effect the winds would have on the grapes. Probably more than a few would be ripped away from the stems. “The fields are clear?”

“All of the robots have returned,” Algorithm said.

“Okay good, help me batten down the guesthouse!” Rade rushed to the single-story guesthouse and hurried inside. The old-style shutters all had securing bars that could be engaged by turning metal handles once the hinged panels were closed, thus protecting them from flying about in the high winds. Shaw had opened many of the shutters at the beginning of the season, because she didn’t want the interior to “overheat”—whatever that meant. He supposed she was worried about the wooden finishes and panels warping when the summer temperatures rose.

Rade moved from window to window and closed any open shutters, securing them via the handles. With Algorithm’s help, he finished in two minutes.

The pair dashed outside, passing the winery, the outbuilding where grapes were processed. The long, plank-walled structure utilized modern autonomous shutters that had already sealed.

Rade dropped off Algorithm at the robot worker apartment, then proceeded toward the main chateau, a sprawling, white-painted building with a tile roof. It was about the same length as the winery outbuilding, though twice the height. He saw that the shutters there were already secure: Shaw’s doing, no doubt. Likely Cora had helped: that was another repurposed combat robot from the Argonaut.

He dashed inside, and shut and barred the door behind him. He found Shaw and Cora in the kitchen with the twins. The two-year-olds, Alex and Sil, were perched in confusion on their toddler high chairs at the edge of the table, their eyes white with fear. Shaw had turned on the lights to make up for the low illumination levels caused by closing all the shutters.

Rade heard a loud patter as the wind threw rain droplets into the shutters that covered the kitchen windows.

Shortly thereafter, the sound increased as hail pelted the home. Thunder shook the room.

Alex and Sil both began crying. Shaw and Cora did their best to comfort the pair. Shaw scooped up Sil, and Cora, Alex.

As she patted Sil on the shoulder, Shaw muttered something while looking directly at Rade.

He couldn’t hear her voice above the din, so he asked: “Say again?”

“Almost makes me wish we had invested in some blast shields,” Shaw said, louder.

“Any update on the weather warning channel?” Rade asked.

“No,” Shaw said. “According to the channel, we’re having crystal clear blue skies out there at the moment.”

“Nice,” Rade said. “The wonders of modern sensing technology.”

When the hail died down he went to the shutters and listened.

“That wind sounds kind of strange out there,” Rade said. “More like a freight train than anything you’d hear in a normal storm.”

“It does have an odd, harsh quality to it, doesn’t it?” Cora said in that falsetto the Artificial used.

“Sort of like you’re own voice?” Rade quipped.

“That’s right, make fun of the hired help,” Cora said.

“Technically, you’re not hired help,” Rade said.

“Don’t get me started on AI rights,” Cora said.

Rade returned his attention to the shutters. He almost wanted to open them and peek at the storm outside, but he knew how easily the storm would be able to rip the shutters from his grasp, and he’d have a hell of a time closing them again.

He decided to access an external camera instead. He cycled through the feeds; a couple of the lenses were supposed to be sheltered from the rain, but every last one was covered with condensation and raindrops, distorting the view. He tried having his Implant compensate for the distortions, but he still had a hard time discerning anything out there. He finally chose a camera that seemed least affected by the rain, and waited to see if it would clear up.

A blast of wind sent droplets flying vertically into the lens, momentarily wiping clean the view, long enough for him to make out the fields, and the sky beyond.

What Rade saw made his heart drop into his stomach.

“Get the kids to the cellar!” Rade hissed.

“What is it?” Shaw said.

Rade spun on her. When she saw his face, she retreated from the kitchen without any further questions. Cora was close on her heels, followed by Rade.

The cellar had an entrance on both the inside and the outside of the house, a fact that influenced Rade’s next command.

He tapped in Algorithm and George Stanley. “I want the combat robots and farm robots in the cellar with us. Now! George, you come, too!”

“What about the drones and autonomous gatherers?” George asked, voice digitally distorting.

“Forget them!” Rade said. “No time! Sentient AIs only!”

Shaw arrived at the door to the cellar and plowed inside. Rade hurried down the stairs from the rear, closing the door behind him.

He reached the bottom of the steps. Shaw and Cora took a seat on the floor next to a wooden pillar, and they continued to whisper comforting words to the children. Racks filled with wine bottles lined the walls, next to a couple of casks. The corridor curved sharply to the right after ten meters, following the foundations of the chateau and forming the final leg of the L-shaped cellar.

Rade rounded that bend. More racks, more wine bottles. After another five meters, steps led up to a pair of barn doors sloped at an angle of forty-five degrees to the ground. Those doors provided the second entrance to the cellar, and clanged open as he watched, allowing the wind to howl inside. Centurions and farm units hurried down the stairs, with George bringing up the rear. Algorithm helped the human-like caretaker shut the doors—the wind flailed both panels about violently. 

Rade held out his arm, preventing the robots at the forefront from rounding the bend, as the steel-reinforced walls composing the cellar provided the same protection everywhere, and Rade didn’t want to crowd his family. “Stay in this section. Stay here!”

The robots obeyed.

Before the sloped doors closed entirely, Rade spotted the tornado in the distance outside. He couldn’t tell what direction it headed, but he prayed it wasn’t making for the chateau.

“How the hell did the climate satellites allow that to form?” Shaw said. She had left Sil and Alex in the care of Cora, and had joined Rade at the bend.

“Dunno,” Rade said. “Something is obviously very wrong with them.”

Algorithm slid the door bar into place, securing the external cellar entrance, then the Centurion and George clambered down the stairs to join the other robots crowding that area of the cellar.

“Thank you for allowing us to shelter here,” Algorithm said.

Rade nodded absently, then left them. He and Shaw rounded the bend to rejoin Cora, and together sat with the children. They had calmed down, thanks to the robot’s efforts.

“Can some of us move past the bend?” Algorithm asked over the comm. “It’s fairly crowded here.”

“All right, four of you, no more,” Rade said.

Four robots rounded the bend of the cellar, but maintained a respectful distance from Rade and his family. Perhaps they were afraid they would be coopted as nursemaids, like Cora.

“Have you heard anything on the major news feeds?” Rade asked Cora.

Shaw was the one who answered. “Reports are starting to trickle in on the social networks. Tornadoes are being sighted all over the PACA region.”

“That can’t be right,” Rade said. “We all know how reliable initial reports can be on social networks.”

“Yes,” Shaw said. “But the news streams are picking it up as well. The climate control system has malfunctioned. Big time.” She paused. “Apparently the tornadoes aren’t restricted to the PACA region... they’re touching down all over France. So far we’re up to at least a hundred, most ranging from F0 to F4s, with a couple of F5s.”

“How many tornadoes do we have in our immediate vicinity?” Rade asked.

“According to what I can gather from the news,” Shaw said. “Just one. But it’s at F4 strength currently.”

A quick check of the Fujita scale on his Implant told him an F4 was a step below the most powerful tornado known to humankind. Still capable of causing devastating damage, unfortunately. And it could easily uproot trees and grapevines, not to mention the chateau itself.

The hail began anew, pounding into the cellar; the loudest sound came from the doors around the bend. Rade was reminded of certain moments in combat when his mech was assailed by projectiles, or passing through space debris.

That freight train sound grew louder until Rade was sure the tornado was passing right over them. He glanced at Alex and Sil. Cora and Shaw were covering the twins bodily, and the pair whimpered underneath them.

Rade joined them, adding his body to the shield.

He half-expected the house to be torn away from above them, and to find himself staring up into the heart of the vortex. If the roof was sucked away, he planned to tightly wrap his arms around one or both of his children, entwine his feet about a pillar, and hang on for dear life. He would have to hope that Shaw survived, because at the moment, the children took precedence.

Fortunately the roof didn’t tear away, and the freight train sound began to recede, along with the noisy bombardment of hail; shortly both faded entirely, leaving only the gentle patter of rain against the cellar. The howls of the wind had also diminished drastically.

Alex and Sil remained calm on the floor underneath him, their former terror giving way to confused worry.

Rade removed himself from the human shield.

We’ve survived.

Now it was time to assess the damage.

three

Rade accessed the different camera feeds, which had mostly cleared up now that the storm had ended.

“It seems the estate emerged unscathed,” Rade announced. “Incredibly. Though it looks like we lost quite a few roof tiles because of the winds.”

“Yes,” Shaw told him. “But otherwise unscathed, like you said. The same can’t be said for the country house and outbuildings of the neighboring estate. Take a look at camera 7D.”

Rade switched to the aforementioned camera feed. Shaw had zoomed in on the neighbor’s chateau and winery. Or rather, where the buildings used to reside. Only concrete foundations remained in place of the former, and dirt the latter. The view zoomed out, revealing the field where the tornado had carved a trail of destruction, ripping away grapevines, trees, and any other objects that had resided within its path. Even the grass had been scoured from the ground where the tornado touched.

“We have to look for survivors,” Shaw said. “The news is saying that the final tally came in at just over two hundred tornadoes touching down across the country. So emergency services won’t be arriving for quite a while.”

“Algorithm,” Rade instructed. “You, Brat, Ernie and Formaldehyde will accompany me. We’re going to search for survivors. Shaw, you pilot the drones. Provide aerial reconnaissance.”

“I can do that while with you,” Shaw said.

Rade glanced at her, then Cora. The twins would be in good hands with the robot. “All right. You come, too.”

Rade, Shaw and the four robots proceeded upstairs and left the chateau. There was no sign of the tornado, and the rain had diminished to a gentle drizzle at that point.

The six of them hopped into the electroactuated, closed-top jeep and the autonomous system drove them across to the neighbor’s estate. Above, Shaw’s drones fanned out in the sky, rain shields in place. They were fulfilling the roles of HS3 scouts—the hover squad support system units preferred by the military, and Rade.

He accepted a call from Tahoe during the ride. “Rade, are you all right?”

“A little shaken,” Rade said. “But otherwise fine. I’m guessing you guys were hit with a severe storm system like the rest of us?”

“If by severe, you mean tornadoes, then yes,” Tahoe said.

“I was hoping you missed out,” Rade commented.

“No such luck,” Tahoe said.

“We had an F4 up here,” Rade told him.

“The weather grid operators have messed up big time,” Tahoe said. “Tell me that the vineyard survived?”

“It did,” Rade said. “The tornado missed us, but the neighbor didn’t fare so well. We’re headed there now to look for survivors.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Tahoe said. “We’ve got a bit of a cleanup operation here, too. We’re all fine, our villas were missed, but it looks like an F3 swept clear through Saint Tropez. We’re heading to the city to help with cleanup and rescue operations.”

“All right, well, keep me updated,” Rade said.

“Will do.” Tahoe disconnected.

The jeep turned onto the rural road that ran between the two estates. As it turned onto the neighbor’s land, Rade noticed a strange substance hanging from the branches of the trees that lined the estate.

“What’s that pink stuff on the trees?” Shaw asked.

“Insulation,” Algorithm replied. “Torn from the neighbor’s country house. Deposited in the trees by the tornado.”

Following the dirt road onto the estate, they passed the debris that the tornado had strewn about. Two-by-fours torn from grape trellises protruded from the ground like thrown javelins. Mangled machinery was wrapped in barbed wire fencing. Uprooted trees resided in the middle of the field.

The tornado’s route was visible by the grass it had scoured from the Earth. As the twister had cut in front of the house and passed across the dirt road, the scouring had deepened: the tornado had dug a rare trench, half a meter at its deepest, twenty meters wide, and two hundred meters long. Dig wasn’t the right word... essentially, the downward pressure from the rotating vortex had “blown” the dirt away.

The jeep paused before that thick, muddy rut in the road.

“Detecting potential hazard,” the autonomous unit in charge of the jeep said.

Rade glanced at the chewed up fields on either side, which were filled with mangled grapevines and the trellises they grew on.

“We can’t really go around,” Rade said. “Can you navigate across it?”

“I believe so,” the unit said. “But it will get bumpy.”

Rade glanced at Shaw and the passengers. “Hang on. Jeep, drive.”

The jeep tilted precariously forward but then leveled out as it entered the rut. Rade was jostled about as the vehicle hit rocks and roots embedded in the wet, uneven ground. Then the jeep tilted backward as it climbed the far side of the rut; the wheels struggled for a moment to clear the mud near the top, but then the vehicle found traction and emerged onto the road once more.

At the chateau ruins, Rade surveyed the foundations, walking along the perimeter. Some areas were covered in debris, and he picked his way across broken wood, plaster, and glass.

Below, he could see the empty basement, and the exposed cellar connected to it—the floor was covered in shattered wine bottles.

“Algorithm, Brat, get down there,” Rade instructed.

The robots leaped down into the exposed basement, splashing into the shallow mixture of water and wine that had collected on the floor. They began searching underneath fallen pillars, planks and the like.

Rade continued his circle of the perimeter with Shaw. He occasionally paused to survey the field beyond. The outbuilding that had housed the humanoid farm robots was gone, but a Quonset remained intact: the front door had been ripped off, and Rade could see the farming machines inside—drones and picker units. He dispatched Ernie and Formaldehyde to the Quonset, and the robots confirmed that none of the machines possessed AIs, and thus he couldn’t confirm whether the owners were home when the storm hit.

“One of my drones found the bodies of three humanoid robots,” Shaw said a short while later. “They look pretty mangled.”

“Ernie, Formaldehyde,” Rade said. “Check out those wreckages. See if the AI cores are salvageable. Shaw, relay the coordinates.”

The robots spread out and reported in a while later.

“We’ve examined all three robots,” Ernie transmitted. “I’m sad to report that the cores are not salvageable.”

“Too bad,” Rade said.

“The drones finished their aerial survey of the estate,” Shaw said. “They didn’t pick up any other bodies lying anywhere in the fields.”

“Maybe the owners decided to travel into town for the weekend,” Rade said.

“I sincerely hope that’s where they went,” Shaw said. “And that their bodies aren’t lying in some field five kilometers away.”

“I hope so, too,” Rade said. “They were nice people.”

Shaw paused, cocking her head. “This is strange.”

“What is it?” Rade asked.

“I’ve been monitoring the news feeds all this time,” she said. “The storm systems have begun to clear up, at least in France. At first the news channels were speculating that Russian or Nigerian hackers were responsible for the grid tragedy, but other countries are reporting similar deadly disturbances in their weather grid. Italy. England. Russia. Japan. Even Africa, and North and South America.”

“Makes you wonder why we ever allowed such a powerful grid to be created,” Rade said.

“The grid is powerful,” Shaw agreed. “But not this powerful. There were supposed to be checks and balances in place to prevent storm supercells such as these from ever forming. Massive cold fronts mixing with massive warm fronts... it’s not supposed to happen.”

“Well, apparently it is,” Rade said. “The question is, if it is a hack, who would want to cause such destruction? Essentially attacking every country in the world... what would they have to gain?”

“I don’t know,” Shaw said. “But here’s something else. The InterGalNet seems to be down. According to the news channels, we’ve stopped receiving data from the rest of the system. But the planet-wide Internet is still up.”

“It would have to be,” Rade said. “Since I was just in touch with Tahoe. Have you been able to reach your parents?”

“Yes, they’re holed up in the International Hotel,” Shaw said. “Marseille was hit by hail and high intensity winds, and the port was ravaged by high waves, but nothing more thankfully. They heard about the tornadoes ravaging the countryside, but I lied and told them we hadn’t seen any.”

“They’ll learn the truth soon enough,” Rade said.

“Yes,” Shaw said. “But I don’t want them rushing out here all worried, just to be close to their daughter and grandkids. Who can say if we’ve truly seen the last of this terrible weather? The tornadoes could return at any time as far as I’m concerned.” She eyed the ominous dark skies uncertainly.

Rade and the others finished their search and left the neighbor’s estate empty-handed. On the return trip, the jeep got stuck in the muddy rut, forcing Rade and the robots to get out and push. When the vehicle was free, Shaw put garbage bags over the seats and floors for them, and then they drove back to the chateau.

The rain had stopped entirely by then. Though power was out across the estate, the water still worked, so Rade showered off and changed.

He joined Shaw in the kitchen for a dinner of nonperishable goods gathered from the pantry. Rade tried feeding Alex peas from a can, but the boy spat them out. Rade made him a cheese and bread sandwich instead; Alex ate half of it, and Rade devoured the rest. Shaw managed to get Sil to eat the peas after much coaxing.

The news channels forecasted calm weather, but that night Rade and Shaw decided to sleep in the cellar, just to be on the safe side.

Rade had Algorithm and Brat bring down the small toddler beds, and they set them up in one corner. Rade ordered the combat robots to keep watch upstairs, with orders to alert him if another storm began.

But the robots never did, and Rade slept the full night.

In the morning, however, he was indeed wakened by the voice of Algorithm, speaking to him over the comm via his Implant.

“Rade, are you awake yet?” Algorithm asked.

“Now I am,” Rade said.

“You might want to take a look at the local news live stream,” Algorithm said.

Rade started to pull up the aforementioned feed, and the three-dimensional graphics of the interface overlaid his vision. “Why? Do we have another storm on the way?”

“No,” Algorithm said. “Worse.”

“What’s worse than the storm we had yesterday?” Rade asked.

“An alien invasion,” Algorithm replied.

four

Rade activated the news live stream labeled “local” on his Implant overlay and positioned the video into the upper right of his vision. Shaw was just waking up, rubbing her eyes beside him; he transmitted the feed to her as well.

A weary-looking female announcer sat in front of a blue screen. Her eyes had large bags under them, and Rade had the impression she had stayed up all night.

“All residents have been ordered by the police and military to remain indoors,” the announcer was saying. She spoke in French, but Rade’s Implant translated in realtime. “Paris, Marseille and Lyon are under lockdown. While the objects have shown no interest in humans or specific buildings as of yet, I cannot make this plainer: do not fire at them from your apartment suites, or do anything else to antagonize them. Though they seem more curious about us at the moment than anything else, aggressive action on our part could change that in a heartbeat.”

The camera switched to a view of the Seine River in Paris. Flying above the river, between the neoclassical architecture that lined either bank, was a silver, oval-shaped object. Metallic tentacles trailed along in the air behind it.

The Franco-Italian military presence abounded on the surface below: armed combat boats filled the waterway. Tanks resided in the streets beyond. Mechs and combat robots perched on the rooftops of the buildings that lined the banks. Fighter jets crisscrossed the skies. Gunships hovered in the air above the riverbank. All of them observing... waiting, watching. Ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

“Communications attempts have been ongoing,” the announcer said. “President Jeanneret has issued a statement asking all residents to remain calm during this trying hour. He seems to believe that the situation can be resolved diplomatically.”

Rade zoned out as the announcer read out the full statement. Rade glanced at his kids, still asleep in their toddler beds and happily oblivious to all of this. Overnight, the world had changed.

Rade was starting to wish that he had chosen another planet for liberty. Any planet, except Earth. Apparently, the world had a big red target plastered on it. Then again, maybe the newcomers actually were peaceful.

Rade had to wonder why the world governments allowed these craft to reach Earth in the first place. Most of the planet’s nations were an antagonistic, distrustful lot, and it seemed unlike them to allow unidentified vessels to arrive unchallenged. He wondered if there were motherships of some kind in orbit.

That question was answered a moment later when the announcer came back on screen.

“If you’re just joining our broadcast now, the mothership showed up on our sensors for the first time at three thirty A.M., when it began launching the alien objects that now fly above our streets. Neither the seventh and eighth fleets, nor the fleets of any other galactic governments, reported seeing any signs of the mothership before the InterGalNet went down and we lost contact with the rest of the system. It is not currently known if the mothership traveled here by means of the Gates, or utilized some other method of interstellar travel.

“Also unknown is whether the newcomers were involved in yesterday’s hack of the weather grid that caused powerful storm systems to sweep across the globe. If this mothership has the ability to tap into our communications systems, then it’s possible it could have initiated the hack long before reaching orbit. Cybersecurity experts insist that unless these newcomers had help, they would have had to study us and our technology for years in order to achieve such a hack. Consider the scenario: if these are alien beings, first they would have had to learn our communication protocols. Then our languages. Then our software interfaces. Then our programming languages. Then seek out backdoors and other exploits. Definitely not something that could be done overnight.

“Surface to space defenses planet-wide are down, because of the storms. Orbital defense platforms have also malfunctioned, not because of the storms—evidence points to another systematic cyberattack. We’ve also lost contact with ships and bases throughout the system because the InterGalNet has gone down. It seems obvious that the newcomers are the cause of all of this, but our military has not fired on them as of yet.

“It is obvious our nation is exercising restraint in the hopes of a diplomatic solution: we don’t want to provoke the newcomers into staging an all out attack. But the big question is, will the rogue states of the world exercise the same restraint, and hold back their fire? We’ve been monitoring the media of the North Syrians, and they seem convinced this is some probing attack by the United Systems. Similarly, Cambodian dictator Ghan Xi has already stated he plans to launch nuclear missiles at the United Systems if these objects attack his people or bases, as he believes this is all some ruse to distract the world while the United Systems topples his government.

“What do these aliens want? Are their intentions peaceful? Will other nations exercise restraint? To help answer these questions, I’m joined now by Charles Matterhorn, leading researcher and professor at the Institute For Advanced Xeno Studies. Thank you for joining us.”

A bespectacled, bearded man appeared on screen. “Thank you for having me.”

“So what do you think, Professor?” the announcer said. “Are these aliens peaceful?”

“Of course not,” the professor answered. “It seems a strange coincidence, does it not, that the mothership arrives shortly after the worldwide weather grid produces storms of disastrous proportions? It’s an obvious act of war. If I were a military commander, I would be urging my government to strike immediately. Cripple them before they can cause more damage.”

“But what if you’re wrong, Professor?” the announcer said. “Cybersecurity experts have stated that it would take many years for aliens to hack into our grid, especially considering all the different protocols and software implementations employed by the different countries.”

“Well, it seems awfully convenient that we’d suffer such a catastrophic grid failure hours before invaders arrived,” the professor said. “Maybe they’ve been watching us for quite some time. Or maybe they didn’t actually hack into our grid, but deployed their own. Maybe they have co-conspirators hidden in our midst. Maybe...” He droned on for at least another minute before the announcer cut him off.

“But wait a second,” the announcer said. “Consider very carefully what you’re saying. Are you really calling for war against an alien race that we know nothing about? I agree with you that the timing of the grid failure is questionable, but what if the intentions of these aliens are peaceful? Perhaps they did cause the storms, as you suggest, but isn’t it at least possible that they did so accidentally? Maybe the advanced power system they used to reach our planet unintentionally interacted with our grids and manifested in the storms...”

“Well that’s simply absurd,” the professor said. “Of course the aliens—”

“I’m sorry, professor,” the announcer said, touching her ear. “I have to cut you off.” She paused, and her eyes defocused, as if she was receiving something on her Implant, then she looked directly at the camera. “I have some breaking news. Reports are coming in that the Sino-Koreans have opened fire at the objects. Apparently—” Her eyes defocused once again. “The local objects are changing course!”

The Seine River view filled the feed once more. Two objects swooped down toward a nearby rooftop in unison. Three mechs crouched on that roof toppled, apparently struck by invisible lasers. The other mechs and combat robots dropped for cover. Missiles launched from the rooftop.

The two objects plunged toward the city, spiraling rapidly. Were they hit?

The pair smashed into the asphalt several meters apart.

The camera zoomed in. Combat robots and large walker units approached the blast craters. Dust and smoke partially obscured the view.

Shapes emerged from both pits. They were indistinct, because of the dust surrounding the blast craters. Troops, Rade guessed.

The robots and walkers began to fall; the emerging shapes were opening fire, no doubt.

Streaks appeared in the sky beyond the buildings. The camera zoomed in. Those were other alien objects, preparing to impact. More troop pods, no doubt.

Rade quickly cycled between live feeds of Lyon and Marseille next. He witnessed similar scenes of invasion in each city. Pods continually crashed into the streets. Troops emerged, obscured by the dust clouds. Mechs and Centurions engaged them.

No doubt Shaw had tuned into the Marseille feed, because she said, quietly: “Ma and pa.”

“Boss!” Algorithm said. “There’s something hovering above the vineyard!”

Rade dismissed the news feed and accepted Algorithm’s video request from external camera 3C. His view was replaced with the vineyard outside. He saw a large oval with trailing metal tentacles floating above the estate; a craft identical to those he had witnessed on the news channel.

It was moving slowly, the rear tentacles outstretched in a fanlike pattern as if scanning the surroundings—either watching, or listening. The craft seemed headed in the general direction of the chateau.

“Algorithm,” Rade said. “Have all the robots on watch upstairs drop by the weapons locker and grab as many rifles and blasters as you can, and come down to the cellar. Now!”

“Roger that,” the Centurion replied.

Unlike a starship, which had multiple such lockers, the chateau only had one.

Should have built a few more as soon as I arrived.

But he never expected a vineyard in a peaceful country like France to be attacked. Let alone by aliens.

Even if he had, there was the small matter of procurement: Rade hadn’t dared attempt to smuggle any weapons into Marseille after landing in the shuttle. The country’s strict customs controls were renowned for their thoroughness. Those weapons in the locker upstairs were acquired by Shaw’s father over the years in a piecemeal fashion. Her dad was somewhat of a gun collector, and several of the weapons were probably antiques. Rade wondered if any of them would even work: he doubted any of the weapons had a charge.

Algorithm and the Centurions on watch upstairs arrived, and Rade reduced the external video feed to a quarter of its size, and placed it in the upper right of his vision. The object was still incoming.

The robots distributed rifles to the other robots that had remained in the cellar with Rade and his family. Algorithm tossed Rade a rifle.

Rade checked the weapon. It was a laser rifle of some kind. He looked into the scope. The reticle was lit up: a good sign. The power indicator showed the battery at half charge.

“Amazingly, my weapon has a charge,” Rade said.

Shaw nodded. She had accepted a rifle from Brat. “My father usually recharges them all once a year. In case of an emergency, he says.”

Rade had the other units call out their power levels. As Shaw had predicted, nearly all of the weapons were charged to at least half full, save for two that had no power whatsoever. The power cells in the latter had probably gone bad. Rade had the robots discard those in one corner.

Rade turned to the non-Centurions, which were readily apparent because of their thinner frames and smaller servomotors, their bodies lacking innate armor of any kind. “Farm units, if you haven’t already, I want you to download the latest combat programs from my Centurions. Some of you won’t have the strength and speed to enact some of the more specialized routines, especially the hand-to-hand combat portions, so keep that in mind when selecting a program to use against an opponent.”

Rade himself probably wouldn’t be able to engage in any hand-to-hand fighting if it came to it. Without a jumpsuit, he had the strength of an above-average human, which wasn’t really all that much at all, at least compared to the Centurions. Shaw was even worse off. But like him, she could wield a laser rifle with the best of the robots.

“Algorithm, split up the robots,” Rade said. “I want coverage of either entrance. Shaw, you get the house door. I’ll take the cellar entry. Robots, move the casks and racks away from the walls, and position them for optimal cover.”

Rade placed himself near the bend in the L-shaped cellar, wedging his body in front of a rack so that his backside was protected from any attacks from the house entrance, and he aimed up at the sloping barn doors at the top of the stairs on the far side. Those doors led directly outside.

He glanced over his shoulder at Shaw. Positioning herself squarely in front of the toddler beds, Shaw lifted her rifle to eye level to cover the door at the top of the stairs that led into the house. The beds were wedged in between two wine casks, and wouldn’t be readily visible to any attackers stepping in from the house.

The combat robots meanwhile pulled out the racks from the walls, forming barricades in front of either entrance to use as cover. Several bottles of wine fell from the racks in the process and broke. 

“Your parents aren’t going to be happy when they see what we’ve done to their precious wine stores,” Rade said.

“Trust me,” Shaw said, “they’ll be happy just to find us alive.”

Algorithm placed one of the racks in front of Shaw, then ducked down behind it to aim at the house entrance with her. Other robots similarly crouched behind the repositioned racks on either side of the cellar bend, covering both entries as Rade commanded.

Rade glanced at the video feed in the upper right of his vision. The oval pod had reached the chateau by then, and was so close that it had flown inside the line of sight of the exterior cameras. Rade cycled through the cameras of the adjacent outbuildings, but none of them had the necessary angles to get a bead on the object.

He heard a distant scraping noise upstairs, like a shutter tearing away, then a crash as a window broke. That was followed by a distinct bump.

He glanced at Shaw.

Something is upstairs, Shaw texted directly to his Implant.

five

Rade nodded slowly. He heard a scraping sound a moment later, as if a table had moved somewhere in the room directly above.

He looked over his shoulder and leaned out to one side to glance between the two casks that shielded the toddler beds. The children were awake, and wide-eyed. Cora remained at their side, speaking very softly, somehow keeping them quiet; like Shaw, the combat robot was ready to protect them if the fighting broke out.

Rade returned his aim to the exterior cellar door. He heard planks creaking above as the intruder—or intruders—crept through the house. He found himself wishing he had installed security cameras in the different rooms, in addition to the cams the chateau already had attached to the exterior.

Should have followed the lessons learned from my training and years of experience.

And yet he couldn’t blame himself for not setting up proper surveillance. None of this was supposed to ever happen, not during a time of peace. Burglars never came out here. Let alone invaders from another planet.

Earth, the most well-defended planet in human space, was under attack by aliens. This was insane. Where were the United Systems fleets that protected the inner and outer solar system?

Rade heard a clicking sound as someone attempted to open the locked house door that led to the cellar. He turned his weapon toward that door, aiming past the edge of the rack beside him. The other combat robots with him transferred their aim as well.

He zoomed in on the handle with his scope and watched it jiggle left and right. Then the handle ceased all motion. Rade zoomed out again, centering the reticle on the middle of the door.

A loud bang from around the bend behind him drew his attention back to the exterior cellar entrance. He spun his rifle toward the sloping barn doors, and saw that a human fist had punched right through the wooden structure. It was searching for the blocking bar.

Rade was confused. If the hand belonged to whoever was aboard that object, then that meant humans were piloting the vehicles. He thought of the dark shapes he had seen emerging from the crashed pods on the city feeds. Though the clouds of dust from the impact had obscured their features, they had in fact seemed humanoid. Perhaps these weren’t aliens after all.

He glanced at his overhead map on the off chance that the hand belonged to a friendly. No. The indicator that had appeared on the map was colored red, not blue.

He aimed his rifle at the hand while it searched for the bar, and considered moving his aim to the right slightly, where he estimated the body belonging to the hand resided. He decided he didn’t want to kill whoever had come here outright, not until he knew exactly who he was facing. So he kept his aim on the hand and squeezed the trigger.

The arm retracted immediately, vanishing.

Chew on that for a while, Rade thought.

A moment later the barn doors broke inward as two tires taken from farm machines in the Quonset hurtled through the wood with tremendous force. The tires crashed into the far wall of the cellar beside Rade and bounced halfway back to the stairs.

Three men hurried down the steps. He caught a glimpse of camos, rifles, and soldiers’ helmets. With their legs crouched, and their rifles held to eye level, these were men who moved with the intention—the intent to kill.

“Open fire!” Rade ordered as he squeezed the trigger, striking one of them in the chest. The man didn’t go down. The intruder immediately swung his rifle toward him.

A part of Rade’s mind noted that the weapon was of an odd design: the muzzle was flared, bell-shaped.

Rade ducked behind the wall. The edge blackened beside him as the invisible beam struck; dark veins spread across the bricks. Filled with a mixture of repulsion and fear, he pulled farther back, squeezing against the wine rack beside him, but the veins ceased their spread a moment later, and seemed to crystallize, as if whatever composed them had died.

“What the hell kind of weapon is this?” Rade muttered.

The other combat robots with him were opening fire past the bend.

“Aim for the eyes,” Algorithm said. “That drops them!”

Rade swung his rifle around the bend once more. The three attackers had fallen, but three more were rushing inside the cellar from the fields beyond.

Rade aimed at the rightmost newcomer and utilized his Implant to steady his aim as the soldier rushed down the stairs. The helmet, reminiscent of a crescent moon in the way it curved around the face, occluded much of the man’s features, but Rade could see the eyes. The cold, dead eyes.

He targeted the right eye, which alternately jostled up, down, left and right within his reticle. The instant the eye was centered in his cross-hairs, Rade squeezed the trigger.

The soldier dropped.

Beside him, one of the humanoid farming units that had joined the attack was struck in the hand. It dropped to one knee, black veins spreading across its metal body from the arm region, then it collapsed. Rade noticed that the veins didn’t seem to crystallize this time, but remained black.

“Charles!” Algorithm said, rushing to the robot and pulling it out of the line of fire. Algorithm examined the unit, then glanced at Rade. “He’s gone.”

Rade returned his attention past the bend. The latest wave of attackers had fallen, but another group was coming down the stairs.

A loud thud behind him made him jump. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the house door had been kicked in. More soldiers were rushing inside from that vector.

Outflanked.

Shaw and the other robots in charge of guarding that door opened fire.

“Don’t let their beams touch any part of you,” Rade warned the robots there. “Even a hit to a hand or foot will bring you down.” He wondered what that beam would do to a human being.

He aimed past the corner once more, targeting the eyes of another soldier. He downed the tango.

“Boss, look out!” Algorithm shouted.

Instinctively Rade dove to the side, away from the bend, and rolled on the floor, smashing painfully into a rack. Where he was standing a moment before, a small black bore had appeared in the brick wall, wisping fresh smoke.

If he had stayed in place, he would have been hit in the back. But who was firing at him? A tango at the house entry? No... the angle was off.

When Algorithm unleashed its rifle at the floor a moment later, Rade saw that the stricken farming unit had apparently returned to life. Its rifle was tracking Rade.

Rade rolled again, but Algorithm fired a few more shots into the AI core, and the robot slumped lifelessly.

In the passageway behind him, another robot was hit by an enemy beam.

“I’m hit!” the farming unit said.

Staying on the floor, Rade aimed at the AI core as black veins spread across the humanoid body, and he put the robot out of its misery.

“If any robots are hit,” Rade said. “Take them down immediately!”

The toddlers were wailing loudly in their beds by that point, and Cora was still talking to them quietly, consoling them, ensuring they didn’t try to leave the beds; Shaw guarded their rear, rifle in hand.

Rade rose to a crouch. He noticed blood on his upper arm. A glass fragment from a broken wine bottle was sticking out. Grimacing, he pulled the shard out.

Staying low, Rade moved behind one of the racks and then helped defend the house entrance.

After three more soldiers fell, the attack from that vector ceased. Rade returned to his position by the bend—the robots there made room for him—and peered past with his rifle. There were no more tangos. The floor in that section was littered with the bodies of nine men.

“They’ve stopped coming,” Algorithm said.

His attention was drawn to the external camera feed, which he had kept in the far upper right of his vision. The tentacled pod was quickly moving away from the chateau.

“They’ll be back with reinforcements,” Rade said. “We have to leave the estate as soon as possible.”

He glanced at Shaw. She had slid the rifle over her shoulder, and was holding the hands of both Alex and Sil, whom she had moved onto the same toddler bed. They had stopped crying, but their eyes were still wide with fear.

“Algorithm, Brat, post guards at the entrances,” Rade said. “Then take two teams with you and do a quick search. Start with the house. Make sure it’s clear up there. Then move on to the field and outbuildings.”

“Roger that,” Algorithm said.

Eight robots left the cellar, while two more took up guard positions at the tops of the different sets of stairs.

Cora left the children in Shaw’s care, and crouched beside a dead body. Cora removed the helmet. The robot seemed puzzled, but then repeated the action, moving to another corpse and also removed the helmet.

“Boss, you’re not going to like this,” Cora said.

“What is it?” Rade said, walking toward the robot.

Cora glanced at him. “These men... they’re all you.”

six

Rade gazed between the faces of the two corpses in confusion. Cora was right. The pair bore a disturbing resemblance to him. He went to the next fallen soldier and ripped off the helmet. Then the next.

They all looked like him.

“What the hell is this?” Rade said.

“Cora, come watch the twins,” Shaw said.

Cora took her place, and Shaw joined Rade.

“How can this be?” Shaw said.

Rade sat on a nearby cask.

“There are a couple of explanations,” Rade said.

“The United Systems has access to your DNA profile...” Shaw said.

“Yes,” Rade said. “As does a certain alien species.”

“The chateau is clear,” Algorithm transmitted. “Our two teams are proceeding to search the vineyard and remaining outbuildings.”

“Thank you,” Rade replied. He glanced at one of the robots that had remained behind. “Formaldehyde, install a dissection program, and learn what you can about these things. Also examine one of our converted robots, and see if you can find out what happened. Shaw, let’s get our kids upstairs and away from this massacre.”

“Wait, you’re going to let the robot make a mess down here with one of those bodies?” Shaw asked.

“In case you haven’t noticed, your cellar is already a mess,” Rade said.

“At the very least, have Formaldehyde take the body outside,” Shaw said.

“Fine,” Rade said. “Formaldehyde, pick a body, and a turned robot, and take them into the vineyard before you begin your work. The rest of you, gather supplies from the house. We’re taking the vehicles in fifteen minutes and leaving the estate behind. Cora, join Shaw and me.”

Formaldehyde grabbed a robot, and a corpse, and then hurried around the bend toward the broken barn doors.

“Have fun,” a farming robot told Formaldehyde.

“I’m used to it!” Formaldehyde said. “I’m always tasked with the dirty jobs.”

“I suppose they named you Formaldehyde for a reason,” the farming robot offered.

Shaw stared at a nearby body. “I wonder...”

She knelt, wrenched the rifle from the dead man’s clutches, aimed at the brick wall across from her, and squeezed the trigger. Nothing happened.

“Must be bio-imprinted to the owners,” Shaw said.

“Bio-imprinted?” Rade said. He stowed his rifle and then grabbed the weapon from her. It seemed designed to be used without jumpsuit gloves, as it fit his barehanded grip readily. Too readily, in fact.

He aimed the flared muzzle at the same wall and squeezed the trigger. He saw no beam, but black veins spidered outward from the impact site. Those veins quickly crystallized, becoming white and ceasing their spread.

“Hmm,” Rade said.

“They really are your clones,” Shaw said.

Rade decided to keep the weapon, swinging the strap over his shoulder and looping it over the hardpoint there.

Rade and Shaw brought the twins upstairs and set them down in their high chairs at the kitchen table. While the robots cleaned out the pantry, loading food and water into the jeep and SUV, Shaw grabbed the first aid kit and set to treating Rade’s arm. Cora meanwhile fed and entertained the children.

Shaw rolled up his sleeve, hooking it over his shoulder hardpoint to keep it out of the way.

“Where’d you get this bruise?” She ran her warm fingers across a purple blotch blemishing the skin underneath the hardpoint. It was a ways above the wound.

“I slammed into a rack down there pretty good at one point,” Rade said.

“And how about this wound?” she asked.

“Broken wine bottle,” Rade explained.

“Nice.” She dipped a cotton ball in alcohol and wiped the wound. Rade flinched at the sting.

“It’s fairly superficial,” Shaw said, setting aside the swab, which had become red with his dried blood. “A few stitches and you’ll be good to go.”

Rade glanced at the wound. “That doesn’t even need stitches.”

“Sure it does,” Shaw said. “I wouldn’t want my warrior’s beautiful bicep to have a scar marring its perfection now, would I?”

“Har.” Rade watched her grab a threading needle, and joked: “Where’s a Weaver when you need one, huh?”

“Your body’s natural healing will suit you well enough,” Shaw said. “Unless you were whining because of the coming pain.”

“Bad joke,” Rade said. “I think you know by now I’ve never been one to whine at pain.”

“No,” Shaw said. “I suppose not.”

He gritted his teeth while she jabbed the needle in, rather hard.

“Sorry,” Shaw said. “I don’t do this every day. I’ll go real slow.”

“Faster would be better,” Rade said. “While you’re doing that, I’m going to see if I can get in touch with the team.”

The local Internet appeared to be still online. He accessed the virtual browser and pulled up the local news feed; nearby farms and vineyards had reported troop pod sightings, but Rade had to wonder if that was the same pod he had already seen.

All out battles were taking place in Paris, Marseille, and Lyon. On the Marseille feed, he saw that mechs, gunships, and Centurions faced not just the humanoid clones emerging from the troop pods, but also scorpion-shaped units that appeared to tote lasers on the tips of their curved tails. The enemy troop pods themselves participated in the battle, wrapping tentacles around gunships and pulling them out of the sky. Jets occasionally roared past, dropping surgical bombs in certain overrun areas. Several of the mechs and Centurions had turned on the human defenders, their metal skins covered in black veins. Some of the jets and gunships had been converted as well, apparently struck by ground-based particle fire.

Rade could only shake his head.

Once again our reliance on machines proves a weakness.

He began to wonder if it was really a good idea to take the Centurions with him. He decided he needed their rifles: he would deal with any turncoats on an individual basis when the time came.

He grimaced as Shaw pricked him again, and then looked up Tahoe’s ID and initiated a call. The calling tone repeated several times. Finally Tahoe picked up, voice-only.

“Rade!” Tahoe said. “You all right?”

“Fine,” Rade said. “Is that fighting I hear in the background?”

What sounded like a distant explosion came on the line, followed by shouts. Definitely fighting.

“We’re helping with the defense of Saint Tropez,” Tahoe said. “We’ve got at least seventy tangos in the city. The number keeps rising, because they’re converting our robots to their side. It’s like the Phant war all over again.”

“No,” Rade said. “It’s a different war. A later war.”

“What have you found out?” Tahoe asked.

“Have you seen the enemy troops yet?” Rade asked.

“Most of them seem human,” Tahoe said. “Though they have a couple of, well, best word for them would be scorpions. They seem right out of the Second Alien War.”

“Have you seen the faces of the human attackers?” Rade said.

“No,” Tahoe said. “Not clearly. Their helmets block most of their features, save for their eyes.”

“All right.” Rade winced as Shaw threaded the needle through his skin. “You said the scorpions seem right out of the Second Alien War. You’re exactly right. I believe the invaders are the Mahasattva.”

“So it’s true then,” Tahoe said. “But I thought the Mahasattva weren’t supposed to have space travel, their planet quarantined. The United Systems built an observation base in orbit around the homeworld, with a fleet of five destroyers keeping watch above the planet year round to enforce the quarantine.”

“Apparently they found a way to get around that,” Rade said. “Assuming I’m right.”

“What evidence have you found so far?” Tahoe said. “Well, other than the oddly familiar scorpion units?”

“The troops,” Rade said. “They’re my clones.”

“Clones?” Tahoe said.

“Yes,” Rade said. “And who else do we know, other than the United Systems military, who possesses a copy of my DNA?”

“The Mahasattva,” Tahoe said.

“There you go,” Rade said.

“When war comes back to bite you in the ass, it’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Tahoe said. “I’ve watched some footage of the mothership in orbit. Now that I think about it, the design is definitely Mahasattva. You remember how all their ships are dodecahedral, right? Well, the mothership looks like they took five of those ships and glued them together.”

“Interesting,” Rade said. “Anyway, I’m having one of my Centurions dissect a clone as we speak. I have a feeling we’ll find more than a few robotic parts inside. I’ll tell you when I learn more later.”

“Dissecting a clone?” Tahoe asked. “You’re not at the vineyard?”

“Actually, we are,” Rade said. “We were attacked here. Apparently the invaders aren’t concentrating solely on the cities: they’re sending troop pods into the rural areas to convert anyone they find out here. Check the news, there are sightings all over the region.”

“Unless they’re targeting you specifically,” Tahoe said.

“It’s possible, but doubtful,” Rade said. “How would they even know where I lived?”

“If they were able to access the restricted weather grid,” Tahoe said, “I’d expect they could gain entry into other restricted systems, such as governmental ID databases.”

“Well then they made a mistake by sending only a few clones to get me,” Rade said. “Either way, Shaw and I are leaving. We’re going to make our way down to Saint Tropez to get you guys out.”

“Wait,” Shaw interrupted. “We have to get my parents out of Marseille.”

“Have you seen Marseille?” Rade said. “It’s a mess out there at the moment.”

“Exactly why we have to go,” Shaw said. “I can’t leave them.”

“The highways will be clogged with people fleeing the city,” Rade said. “We’ll never get in.”

He flinched as Shaw pricked the needle through his flesh, hard. For such a small superficial wound, she was sure taking her time. Then again, as she had mentioned, she didn’t do this every day...

“The outgoing highways will be clogged, certainly,” Shaw said. “The incoming, not so much.”

“It’ll be full of daughters like yourself trying to rush home to their parents,” Rade said.

“Well then, I’ll be in good company,” Shaw told him.

Tahoe had said something, but Rade missed it because he was listening to Shaw.

He pointed at the wound and told Shaw: “Concentrate.” Then he switched to Tahoe: “What was that, Tahoe?”

“I said we’re holed up on Mission Street,” Tahoe replied as more shouts erupted in the background. “When do you expect to arrive?”

“Change of plans,” Rade said. “Shaw and I are heading toward Marseille first. We’re going to fetch her parents.”

“Have you actually seen Marseille on the news?” Tahoe asked.

“Yes,” Rade said. “We’re going anyway.”

“All right,” Tahoe said. “Take care of yourself out there.”

“You too,” Rade said. “I’ll keep you updated on our status. And if I learn anything new about the invaders, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thank you, Tahoe out,” his friend replied.

The connection closed.

“There, all done,” Shaw said. She put the needle and thread away and cleaned the area once more.

“Have you even tried contacting your parents yet?” Rade asked.

“I just did,” Shaw replied. “They sent me a text. They’ve been holed up in their room at the International Hotel since the fighting began. They don’t want us coming down.”

“There, see?” Rade said. “Finally someone has talked some reason into you.”

“I told them we were coming anyway,” Shaw said.

Rade threw up his arms.

“Hold still,” Shaw said, and then applied a large bandaid to the sutured wound. “I did promise them that we’d leave the twins outside the city somewhere.”

“Oh you did, did you?” Rade said. “Well we can’t leave them here. This location has been compromised.”

“I know that,” Shaw said. “But we’ll find somewhere along the way, outside Marseille. An abandoned farm or something. And we’ll leave them with a bunch of robots to watch over them.”

“That’s your plan?” Rade asked.

“Rade, listen to me,” Shaw said. “Besides you and the kids, and the men, my parents are all I have in this galaxy. We have to go back for them. If I left them, and something happened, I’d never forgive myself. Or you for denying me.”

Rade opened his mouth to contest her but quickly shut it. She was right and he knew it. He had done similar things in the past to save his men, who were essentially family to him. Though Shaw’s parents didn’t like him all that much, and the feeling was mutual, he wasn’t about to abandon them to whatever fate awaited should the city fall.

“We’ll get your parents out,” he said gruffly.

She threw herself at him and gave him a tight hug, pressing her cheek into his chest. “Thank you. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“We haven’t rescued them yet,” Rade said. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He gently extricated himself from her grasp.

“The outbuildings are clear of tangos,” Algorithm transmitted a moment later. “And we’ve finished our sweep of the vineyard proper. There are no other enemies lurking on the estate.”

“All right, get back to the chateau,” Rade said. “We’re leaving ASAP.”

Rade went outside to the vehicles and checked off the different supplies the robots had loaded into each. Everything seemed in order.

He grabbed an X72 knife from the stash and pulled it from its sheath. The blade contained a laser edging that would activate for a microsecond upon impact. That could prove useful in a pinch. He secured the sheath to his utility belt.

Algorithm and the other Centurions arrived from the outbuildings.

“I want you to fit as many of the combat robots as you can into the SUV,” Rade told Algorithm.

“Yes, boss,” Algorithm said.

“Ernie, grab a couple of the self-charging drones from the Quonset and launch them as scouts,” Rade said.

“Yes, boss,” Ernie echoed.

“Shaw, get to the jeep and come break the law,” Rade sent. “We’re leaving.” By telling her to break the law, he was referring to the fact that both the jeep and the SUV were older vehicles, predating the Franco-Italian law that required all vehicles to operate in autonomous mode. That’s right, the vehicles had manual mode as an option, which was illegal in France, as in much of the world: machines were considered better drivers.

However in Rade’s view, during a time of invasion, when vehicles might need to potentially steer off road to escape enemy pursuers, autonomous mode wouldn’t cut it.

Instinctively he sat down in the passenger seat. As a mission leader in the military, he was accustomed to running the operation from the passenger seat while someone else drove—either a human being behind the wheel, or the vehicular AI. In this case, the driver would be Shaw. The role was a natural extension of her astrogator position aboard the starship.

Shaw arrived and took her place in the driver seat. Rade assigned Cora and Dora to sit with the twins in the back seat. The remaining Centurions had piled into the SUV. Only six of the combat robots fit in the SUV, as the back area was filled with supplies, including mini sleeping bags for the toddlers. That meant most of the farming units had to stay behind, including the Artificial caretaker, George Stanley.

“Are you going to be all right?” Rade asked George.

“We all have rifles,” George replied. “And we’ve downloaded the combat programs we need to use them.”

“It’s probably best if you avoid any future conflicts with the invaders,” Rade said.

George nodded. “We’ll hide out past the estate’s tree line, and keep an eye out for enemy search parties. We’ll attack only if they discover us.”

Rade shook the Artificial’s hand. “Good luck to you.”

“And you as well, Master Galaal,” George said.

“Formaldehyde, are you done your investigation yet?” Rade sent over the comm.

“Just a moment, boss,” the Centurion replied.

“Wrap it up,” Rade said. “We’re leaving.”

“Two seconds,” the Centurion said.

“Now!” Rade said.

Formaldehyde came running in from the side of the chateau, its metal hands covered in blood.

“Wash those off!” Shaw shouted. “You’re not getting my parents’ SUV dirty!”

The Centurion turned back toward the chateau.

Rade clenched his teeth at the delay.

Two autonomous farming drones had already launched, courtesy of Ernie, and were spread out a kilometer in front and behind the jeep. Rade cycled between the feeds, searching the skies for signs of any incoming enemy units. Everything was clear out there. For the time being.

Formaldehyde returned and squeezed into the SUV with the other Centurions.

In the jeep, Shaw engaged manual mode and drove onto the dirt road that led off the estate. The SUV followed. The overhead drones shadowed their movements, maintaining their one kilometer distance ahead and behind.

Via those drones, Rade continued scanning the skies as the vehicles turned onto the country road.

And so begins our journey.

He glanced back at the children.

He just hoped it wasn’t a mistake to bring them along. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t leave them at the compromised estate.

I’ll keep you safe, no matter the cost to myself.

seven

So Formaldehyde, what did you learn?” Rade asked over the adhoc network formed by his Implant and the comm nodes of the robots in the neighboring vehicle. He linked Shaw to the line so she could listen in.

“Would you like me to start with the robot?” Formaldehyde said. “Or your clone?”

“The robot is fine,” Rade said.

“When that beam struck, nano-machines were injected into the robot’s body,” Formaldehyde explained. “The machines quickly spread, converting existing metal into more of their like, until they reached the AI core, at which point the nano-machines began to replace the neural network components, effectively converting the machine over to the side of the enemy.”

“So essentially you’re saying those weapons fire a particle beam of some kind?” Rade said. “With nano-machines acting as the particles?”

“That would be one way to describe it, yes,” Formaldehyde said.

“What would happen if the beam hit a human?” Rade asked.

“I’m not entirely certain,” Formaldehyde said. “I believe a similar conversion process would take place. The nano-machines would burrow through the skin and into the bloodstream, perhaps embedding within the brain, which they would probably begin replacing. At least if the behavior is anywhere similar to what occurred in the AI core of the farming unit.”

“That meshes exactly with what the Mahasattva used to do to humans,” Rade said, mostly to himself.

“The race involved in the Second Alien War?” Formaldehyde asked.

“That’s right,” Rade said. “Okay then, so what about the clone? What did you learn?”

“It is an Artificial of sorts,” the Centurion said.

“An Artificial?” Rade said.

“Well, perhaps that is not the best word,” Formaldehyde explained. “Unlike a true Artificial, its outer layer of tissue was alive. The skin, the heart, lungs, and other organs, they were all living. At least until we terminated the unit. But the skull and skeletal systems were made of metal, with joints operated by electroactuators. That explains why we saw tires hurtled so easily through the doors of the cellar—such joints give the clones enormous strength. Given the living organs I found in the rest of the body, I expected to find organic tissue in the brain and spinal cord regions, but its ganglia were made of nano-machines.”

“Nano-machines?” Rade said.

“Yes,” the Centurion replied. “So a better description of the clone would perhaps be cyborg, rather than Artificial.”

“What’s the power source for the nano-machines and electroactuators you mentioned?” Rade asked.

“I’m uncertain at the moment,” Formaldehyde said. “It’s possible there are battery cells embedded somewhere in the skeletal structure. I didn’t have time to dig any deeper. As for the energy source of the living portion of the body, I suspect the cyborg had to eat like any other human being, and respire oxygen. If the organic portion of the body died, the robot portion would continue to function, at least for a short while, as you witnessed during the battle. But if the machine portion was destroyed, the organic died with it. This was why strikes in the chest had no stopping power, whereas impacts to the eye region brought the clones down immediately.”

“So wait a second, let’s back up a bit,” Rade said. “Given what you know about these clones, and the nature of the particle beam weapons they wield, is it possible a human hit by those beams would transform into one of my clones?”

“I don’t believe so,” Formaldehyde said. “But as I mentioned, I’m not entirely certain what would happen. But if these invaders are indeed the Mahasattva, as per your earlier comment, then the minds of any stricken humans would certainly join the enemy and turn against us, but their bodies would likely maintain their original physical characteristics, at least until further along the conversion process.”

Rade remained silent, contemplating what the Centurion told him. 

“The dissection results confirm the invaders are the Mahasattva, don’t they?” Shaw asked.

“It certainly seems that way,” Rade said. “Though there are differences. The Mahasattva liked to completely convert the bodies of infected humans into machines, for example. And their weapons capabilities have advanced a bit since last I encountered them. They never had the ability to convert remotely like that—with a rifle—before. They used to have to directly inject the nano-machines into the human brain.”

Shaw smiled sadly. “The United Systems nuked their homeworld.”

“Yes,” Rade said. “And it looks like they’ve come back to exact a little revenge. Though I take it as a personal insult that they’ve based their clone army off of my DNA.”

“I don’t blame you,” Shaw said. “Your face is going to go down in infamy as the man who conquered Earth.”

Her words only angered Rade all the more, and he simmered quietly in his seat. When he finally got control of his emotions, Rade tapped in Tahoe and informed him of Formaldehyde’s findings.

“That jibes with what we’ve learned,” Tahoe said. An explosion sounded in the background, followed by shouts. “Head shots are the best for taking them down. Specifically, in the eyes. Also, a few of the tangos had their skin burned away, and they were still able to fight via their robotic skeletons underneath.”

Rade disconnected, and then concentrated on scanning the roadway ahead, via the drones. The rural roads were surprisingly empty. The inhabitants had no doubt barricaded themselves indoors. 

“What’s the latest on your parents?” Rade asked Shaw.

“They’re still waiting for us at the International,” Shaw replied. “The fighting seems to have intensified. More and more of the city’s robots are turning on the military and police. Also, there are quite a few inhabitants joining the fray, on the side of the invaders. They’ve obviously been turned.”

“You might want to pick up the pace,” Rade said. “At this speed we’re still an hour and a half out.”

Shaw accelerated. The country road was tight, bordered on both sides by trees or crops that made it difficult to see past abrupt turns. Rade had Ernie use the drones to alleviate that.

Shortly into the drive, Ernie spotted three incoming aircraft via the drones, and Shaw immediately drove the jeep into a ditch, halting underneath the branches of a plane tree, and the SUV followed. Rade ordered Ernie to have the drones drop out of view.

Rade and the others aimed their rifles skyward between the branches. Rade knew that the coverage was essentially useless; the invaders were at least Tech Level IV, if not higher, and they would have the equivalent of LIDAR, whose multiple photons could easily bounce and reflect from nearby surfaces, illuminating the vehicles and those inside them. If any of the craft passed directly overhead, his team would almost certainly be discovered. But if they flew by some distance to the east or west, then the group had a chance.

He switched to the viewpoint of the forward drone a kilometer ahead, and scanned the skies. The drone had descended to hover close to the ground, and it took a moment for the lead craft to come into view.

His hopes were dashed; watching it swerve left and right, he realized the craft was following the road. The tentacles were extended behind it, pointed downward as if searching the road for signs of traffic. There were two other, similar aircraft in the distance, roving over different farmers’ fields on the east and west. 

“We’re not going to elude them,” Rade said. “Ernie, use the drone as a diversion. Send it east.”

Ernie ordered the lead drone to rise and fly away at its top speed to the east.

The lead craft instantly pursued. The other two—the one to the west, the other the east—also swerved to intercept.

The drone swerved away southeast, drawing all three of them away.

Rade watched from the viewpoint of the second drone, which remained behind, close to the ground. As soon as the last of alien craft passed from view, Rade gave the order to flee.

“Go go go!” he told Shaw.

She accelerated out of the ditch and onto the road. The SUV followed. Meanwhile the drone on drag lifted into the air until the receding craft were once more captured by its cameras. Then it kept close to the treetops, mirroring the movements of the vehicles.

Watching the drone’s feed, Rade saw a flash and realized the diversionary drone had been shot down.

“Step on it, Shaw...” Rade said.

The jeep passed the spot where the invaders had veered away from the road, and she continued onward, the SUV hot on her heels. Unfortunately the vehicles didn’t have the advanced noise canceling capabilities of the military, but seeing as they were electroactuated, the vehicles were still relatively silent, the only sound the soft wind produced by their passage, and the noise of the treads contacting the asphalt.

Meanwhile the alien pods swerved back toward their original courses. Rade kept a vigil on the drone feed as Shaw continued to put distance between them and the aircraft, and he watched as they returned to their original locations and continued the search from where they left off. The main pod was now a kilometer to the south, and seemed oblivious to their presence as it followed the rural road away once more. 

The team encountered no further airborne units along the country track thereafter, nor any ground units. That made some sense, as the enemy wouldn’t have enough of those pods to cover rural areas all over the planet, or even in one country for that matter. It lent some credence to Tahoe’s theory that the enemy was specifically looking for him. Though why they sought Rade in particular, he didn’t know.

Perhaps it had something to do with his DNA, and his ability to utilize their weapons. He wondered if that meant he could interface with all of their machines, from the pods all the way up to the mothership. Though it seemed odd that an enemy equipped with advanced DNA manipulation tech wouldn’t simply change enough basepairs in their clones to prevent Rade’s biometric signature from activating their systems. Then again, killing him might simply be easier, especially if they hadn’t expected to find him on Earth during the invasion.

He tried contacting George Stanley, but received no answer. That was troubling. He decided not to say anything about it to Shaw. She’d learn soon enough on her own.

He suddenly had no regrets about bringing his kids along.

eight

They passed three other vehicles along the road, these heading into the country. The occupants looked at Rade and the others with wide eyes. Families. Rade managed to flag down the first vehicle, and warn them of the pods in the countryside. But the second and third vehicles floored the accelerator each time and sped past in fright.

Shaw reached a turnpike and steered onto the main highway to Marseille. A timer appeared on the vehicle’s dashboard: when the jeep passed the matching toll area at the end of the highway, the toll amount would be automatically deducted from the account associated with the owner, in this case Shaw’s dad. Even when the world was ending, the government had to extract its toll.

The highway proved a wee bit busier than the country road. In the inbound lane, Shaw passed at least two vehicles a minute. Beyond the divider, in the outgoing lane, there were about four times the vehicles fleeing the city. Overhead, two jets roared passed as the Air Force sent reinforcements to the city. It seemed a bit too late to be sending reinforcements now, given what he had seen on the news feeds, but then again Rade didn’t have the same raw battle space data as the generals, and wasn’t privy to their decision making processes.

No personal aircraft were flying around up there, nor any drones, save for the unit Rade had following the vehicles. He lost the drone shortly after arriving on the highway—Rade suspected some vigilante in a neighboring farm had shot it down, perhaps confusing it for an enemy unit.

On the road, the jeep and SUV encountered the occasional storm damage—mostly uprooted trees that Shaw had to swerve around. In one area, it was obvious a tornado had cut across the highway, as the asphalt switched to dirt for about five hundred meters where the rotating vortex had peeled away the surface. Shaw had to slow right down, and the passengers were jolted about constantly until the vehicles reached the intact asphalt on the far side; the transition formed quite the bump. She also had to navigate the large, deep impact craters that had been created where the tornado had tossed the chunks of peeled asphalt onto the highway.

As this was the coastal route, the sea could occasionally be seen to the west. Villages and towns often abutted the road, with highway turn-offs granting access.

As the team got closer to Marseille, the number of vehicles in the lane leading to the city remained constant, while the outgoing route essentially became a parking lot, with the cars stuck in traffic, packed rim to rim.

Plumes of smoke rose from the city ahead.

After reaching Aubagne, the city next to Marseille, Shaw slowed down as traffic formed a snarl up ahead. Apparently, the highway had been bombed, perhaps by jets converted to the side of the invaders, though it appeared the outgoing route had been spared. Shaw had to steer around the wreckages of vehicles that littered the roadway, along with blast craters.

Thereafter the vehicles moved smoothly once again, but then closer to the city the team encountered another traffic snarl. This one courtesy of a roadblock set up by the Franco-Italian Army and the National Gendarmerie.

About fifteen cars ahead of the jeep, a Leclerc tank squatted in the center of the road next to an Equestrian tank, flanked by two GCT self-propelled artillery vehicles equipped with lasers and rockets. In front of the armored fighting vehicles were two police cars. Three of the police stood outside their vehicles and were directing incoming traffic to a turnoff lane that led to the outgoing highway. There was no motion up ahead at all, considering that traffic in the outgoing lane wasn’t moving.

“They’re not letting anyone into the city,” Shaw said.

“Well that’s not going to work.” Rade glanced at the guardrails at the shoulder of the road. He could see a fence past the shrubs beyond, and another guardrail protecting a city road on the other side. “Algorithm, Brat, concentrate your fire on those guardrails. Cut us a path through both of them. And take down the fence, too.”

From their positions aboard the SUV, the Centurions aimed their rifles and in moments the guardrail next to the jeep fell away. The fence past the foliage followed, and then the guardrail beyond that.

Shaw turned off the road, accelerating over the fallen rail. The SUV followed close behind. The jeep tore through the trees and shrubs, and rocked the passengers about as it plowed through the toppled fence, and then past the broken guardrail that had once blocked access to the city road beyond. Rade heard some shouts, probably from the police, but there was otherwise no effort to stop them. Maybe the officers planned to call in backup. Then again, Rade doubted they could spare the units.

The SUV came directly through after the jeep. Glancing in the rear view mirror, Rade saw other cars driving through the gap, apparently some of them just as eager to enter the city despite the roadblock.

Probably a bad idea.

Only about three other vehicles passed through before the flow stopped—the police had probably intervened finally.

Though a city unto itself, Aubagne essentially functioned as a suburb of Marseille, and the street here was lined with apartments and private villas. There was still some street traffic here—evacuating a city of this size took more than a day. All of the vehicles were heading away from the city, and they used both lanes, forcing Shaw to drive on the shoulder of the road, or the sidewalk.

She eventually parked the jeep next to an apartment block shortly before the Aubagne-Marseille boundary.

“This is as good a place as any to leave the kids,” she said.

Rade glanced at the apartment uncertainly. “In here?”

“I’m sure many of the suites are vacant,” Shaw said. “The people on the outskirts would have been the first to evacuate.”

Rade switched his gaze to the plumes of smoke that cast a pall of black haze over the city, several kilometers away. Gunships no longer flew over the distant rooftops, nor jets. He thought that was a bad sign. Still, explosions occasionally sent fresh plumes skyward, so there were still battles ongoing.

“It’s a little close to the fighting for my tastes,” Rade said.

“I think it’s fine,” Shaw said.

“We can have the robots drive out of the city, and secure the kids in a farm or vineyard somewhere,” Rade said.

Shaw shook her head. “After the patrols we saw in the countryside? No thanks.”

“I think they were looking for me,” Rade said.

“You?” Shaw told him. “Whatever for?”

“Because I can control these.” He tapped the particle beam rifle on his shoulder.

Shaw shook her head. “I don’t want to get too far from my kids. We leave them here, fetch my parents, and then get out.”

“And what if we’re waylaid in some way?” Rade said.

“Then we have the robots take the kids to your men in Saint Tropez,” Shaw said.

“All right,” Rade said. “Then let’s get this done.” He switched to the squad-level comm. “Centurions, Shaw and I are continuing alone into the city. We want you to park the SUV here, and hole up in a vacant suite in this apartment building. Take care of the twins.”

Shaw looked over her shoulder at the two robots in the back seat. “Cora, Dora, stay with the kids,” Shaw said.

“Yes, boss,” Cora said.

“If we’re not back in four hours,” Shaw told them. “Load into the SUV with the robots, and kick out some of the other Centurions if you have to. Then drive down to Saint Tropez and take the twins to the men.”

“I understand,” Cora said.

Shaw went to the back seat to address the kids. “Mommy and daddy have to go away for a while. But Cora and Dora will take good care of you.”

Cora lifted Sil into its arms, while Dora took Alex. The robots walked toward the apartment building. The two toddlers reached back toward their parents, and began to cry.

“I should go comfort them...” Shaw said.

“There’s no comfort one can give to a child at that age,” Rade said, “when he’s separated from his or her parents. The best thing you can do at the moment is to let them go. And know in your heart that we will be back. We’ll make it in time.”

“I hope so,” Shaw said.

“Don’t hope,” Rade said. “Know.” He switched to the comm. “Algorithm, Brat, you’re with us.”

The two combat robots jogged to the jeep, while the others from the SUV escorted Cora, Dora and the twins to the apartment. The front entrance was apparently locked, as the group paused in front, ostensibly to allow one of the robots to initiate a hacking routine. In moments they began to enter.

Rade heard a distant explosion reflecting from the nearby buildings. 

“Post a lookout on the roof,” Rade sent the robots. “If the fighting starts getting close to this neighborhood, you’re to relocate immediately.”

“Understood,” Cora replied.

As Shaw drove away, Rade stared wistfully into the rear view mirror, watching the robots pile inside the apartment lobby. Alex and Sil were still reaching into the empty air toward their receding parents.

Keep my kids safe.

nine

Rade shifted his focus to the road, and to the quaint buildings lining either side: those plaster-covered facades topped by tiled, gambrel roofs. He searched for signs of enemy units, but saw none.

Shaw drove inside the official city limits of Marseille shortly. Unsurprisingly, the buildings on either side of the road remained the same.

“I didn’t want to say this earlier,” Shaw said. “But I lost contact with my parents some time ago.”

Rade frowned. “You could have mentioned that earlier.”

“I was worried you’d want to turn back,” Shaw said.

“I’m sure it’s just a few damaged comm nodes,” Rade said. “Preventing access to the Internet.”

“I hope so,” Shaw said.

Marseille was more of a traditionally designed city compared to some of the larger megalopolises in France. It had no upper levels of roadways, for example, and most of its skyscrapers came under twenty-two stories.

Shaw skirted those neighborhoods that were emitting smoke plumes up ahead. As they passed those areas, he occasionally heard the fleeting sounds of fighting: whirring servomotors, steel clanging against steel, shouts and wails.

Rade held his laser rifle ready in hand. The two robots in the back similarly kept their weapons at the ready, scanning the streets with him.

As the jeep neared the city core, many of the buildings showed signs of damage, the most prevalent being shattered windows, likely caused by the shockwaves of nearby explosions; glass littered the sidewalks and parts of the road in profusion. There were also boreholes from lasers in the plaster walls, and craters from rockets.

The vehicular traffic had let up entirely by then. Either the citizens had all evacuated the area, or no one dared take the roads here. With the ongoing fighting, there were no civilians or their helper robots out and about on the sidewalks either; this included the delivery drones that were usually prevalent beneath the thirty meter mark in any major city.

“The International Hotel is a few streets past here,” Shaw said.

Rade nodded. He had the destination highlighted as a waypoint on his overhead map.

She took a turn down a side street, and Rade immediately saw why the traffic had dried up. The route was littered with blast craters and the wreckages of vehicles, both ground- and air-based. Some of the buildings beside the road had partially or fully collapsed, the gypsum composing their walls fanning out across the roadway. One building was sheared open along the side, its interior exposed like a giant doll-house.

A war zone.

“Oh no,” Shaw said. “No. The International has to be still standing.”

“It will be,” Rade said.

He understood now why her parents had lost their access to the Internet. Without any drones or balloons to provide connectivity, the onus would be on the optic fibers embedded in the ground; but given the number of impact craters in the area, the buried lines had obviously been shorn right through. His Implant was still connected to buried comm nodes that formed adhoc networks in the area, though he didn’t expect that connection to last long.

Shaw backed out onto the main road and tried turning onto the next street. And the next. They were all impassible because of the sheer volume of debris.

“Looks like we’re going to have to walk from here on out,” Rade said.

Shaw parked the vehicle.

Rifles in hand, he, Shaw and the two robots exited the jeep. Rade marked the vehicle’s location on the map before proceeding.

The group members picked their way forward over the large gypsum and concrete fragments, crawling over the occasional belongings and furniture strewn amid the debris.

Rade paused beside the half buried, crushed body of a little girl. He thought of Sil, and his heart went out to the dead child. This girl had been alive, once. Loved. Had a full life ahead of her.

And the invaders had taken that away.

But there was nothing he could do about that. The safety of Earth was in the hands of the military. Rade was just one man trying to protect his family.

Muted explosions and shouts told him fighting was taking place somewhere nearby. Because of the way sound reflected from the buildings, he couldn’t tell the direction, or the distance.

“How close do you think we are to the front line?” Shaw asked.

“Can’t say,” Rade replied. “Could be one street away. That’s the problem with fighting in a city. The acoustics make determining the direction of the enemy really bad.” He was starting to wish they still had one of the farm drones with them to act as scouts. “Stay close to the building walls.”

“We just lost all access to the Internet,” Algorithm said. “Unsurprisingly.”

Rade and the others crossed the debris and kept close to the buildings as they advanced—those structures that were still intact, anyway. When they reached a fully collapsed building, Rade carefully peered past the ruins and into the adjacent street.

The devastation beyond was immense. Buildings had collapsed everywhere, giving Rade a view all the way to the port. He saw mechs, tanks, combat robots, and soldiers in jumpsuits dug in amid the rubble two streets away. Holed up in the street opposite them were Rade’s clones, and the laser-toting enemy scorpion units that he had seen on the news. Occasionally a robot amid the defenders turned on the Franco-Italian soldiers, who were forced to shoot it down.

With the jets gone, there was no air support, so Rade didn’t have to worry about a bomb dropping on his head. Though given how deeply entrenched the enemy units were, he wasn’t so sure that was a good thing.

Rade glanced at the overhead map. They were almost at the International Hotel. No point in turning back now.

Rade looked at his companions and gestured toward the ground, and then dropped. He and the others low-crawled through a trench of sorts that had formed naturally in the debris because of the way the building had collapsed. The walls of that trench shielded him and the others from the view of the adjacent street.

He passed a Franco-Italian soldier wearing a jumpsuit. The man was clambering upward toward the top of the rubble pile. He seemed a sniper of some sort, moving into position. The soldier gazed at Rade, and seemed about to tell him to go back, but then his eyes drifted to Rade’s arms. Likely he was noticing the hardpoints, and the musculature. And the rifles.

The soldier looked back at Rade, and if the man recognized him because of his similarity to the clones, he gave no indication of it. The man ran his eyes over the others, and then proceeded to scale the debris once more, evidently deeming the small team no threat.

Rade glanced at the rooftops and noticed other soldiers moving into position. The area was going to be getting extremely hot, very soon.

Pick up the pace, he texted, not daring to make any further sound that might distract these men.

Just then one of the Franco-Italians fell from a nearby rooftop and bounced across the debris, finally coming to a stop close to Rade.

Rade hurried to the man and checked for life signs. He met Shaw’s gaze, and shook his head. He paused to pilfer two grenades from the harness the dead man wore, and attached them to his belt via the small hooks in the sides.

When Rade saw Shaw’s eyes staring accusingly at him, he shrugged and texted: He won’t need them.

In a few minutes they were past the debris, on their feet again, and well away from the snipers. They were making good time toward the hotel.

“I’d suggest not going back that way,” Rade said.

“I was going to suggest the same,” Shaw said.

“It’s a good sign that most of the buildings here are still standing,” Rade commented.

“It certainly is,” Shaw said. “Though I still can’t reach mom and dad.”

In another two minutes they arrived at the entrance to the International Hotel.

The building remained fully intact. Corrugated blast shields sealed off the main entrance and all windows. That was part of Franco-Italian building code: all hotels were required to install such metal shielding. It was a remnant of the days when terrorism had run rampant throughout the country. An unfortunate side effect of the shielding was that it would have trapped any occupants inside.

“Algorithm, see if you can get us in,” Rade said. “Assuming there is power.”

The Centurion approached the entrance. Rade knew Algorithm would be accessing the remote interface at that very moment.

“The building has power,” Algorithm said. “I’ve successfully elevated my privileges. Would you like me to rescind the entire blast shield, or just the portion sealing the entrance?”

“The entrance only, please,” Rade said.

The seal that covered the entrance slid upward, revealing glass sliding doors.

Rade approached and those doors parted. He entered the lobby.

A robot doorman stood just inside. “I’m sorry, but we are not honoring reservations at the moment,” the robot said in French. “Existing hotel guests only.”

“I’m an existing guest,” Rade said.

“Where is your digital passkey?” the robot demanded.

Rade swung his rifle toward the doorman. “Right here.”

The robot raised its hands and stepped aside.

Rade surveyed the lobby. He was expecting to see at least a few guests waiting to get out. But there was no one present.

He glanced at the doorman. “Where is everyone?”

“I have been opening the shield and letting out guests at their request,” the robot replied.

Rade glanced at Shaw. “Your parents might not be here.”

“They’ll be here,” Shaw said. “They have to be.”

When everyone was inside, Rade considered having Algorithm close the blast shield, but decided to leave it open, as he wasn’t sure how long the building would have power. He approached the elevator but then passed it by in favor of the stairs, once again not trusting the power to stay on for much longer.

“What room were they staying in?” Rade asked Shaw.

“4E,” Shaw said.

Rade took the steps two at a time. The flights reversed at each floor, so that Rade zigzagged his way up.

He entered the fourth floor hallway. Doors lined either wall. He approached 4E.

Rade considered having Algorithm attempt to hack the lock, just as at the front entrance, but he was worried about frightening the parents.

“Shaw, can you reach them over the adhoc network formed by our Implants yet?” Rade asked.

“I’ve been trying,” Shaw said. “But they don’t have Implants like us. If they’re not wearing their aReal goggles, they won’t pick up.”

“Damn it,” Rade said. “We told them we were coming. You’d think they’d keep those goggles glued to their faces.”

His frustration affected his knocking at the door, which was perhaps a little louder and rougher than it should have been. Well, it conveyed the appropriate sense of urgency, he thought.

There was a small camera set in a glass dome above the door lintel. Rade looked right at it so that any occupants would see his face.

He forced a smile and knocked again, but no answer came.

He was about to tell Algorithm to hack the door when he heard a rough voice speaking from within.

“Fucking guy!”

“Hey, Mr. Chopra,” Rade said resignedly.

The door opened. Shaw’s mom and dad waited just inside. They were two chestnut-skinned, beautiful young people. Well the woman was beautiful, anyway. The man, not so much. His features were harsh, his nose a sharp hook, his mouth a thin line. Because the two were so young, they looked almost like kids to Rade. Their short height didn’t help matters.

Shaw’s parents spread their arms wide and dashed at him.

Here it comes.

Rade reluctantly held out his hands to accept the embrace, but the two barreled right past him and together hugged Shaw instead.

She smiled at him sheepishly.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Rade said.

Mrs. Chopra was the first to break the hug. “Where are the children?” she asked Shaw. “Are they safe?”

“Yes of course,” Shaw said. “We’re taking you to them. Get your things.”

Mrs. Chopra hurried back into the room.

Shaw’s dad lingered to glower fiercely at Rade. Once again Rade felt like a kid stood there before him shooting daggers his way, and it diminished the effect.

“This is your fault, fucking guy!” Mr. Chopra said.

Rade raised his hands defensively. “It’s not my fault.”

“We saw your face on the Localnet!” Mr. Chopra said. “The enemy... they’re all you!”

“Hey, as I said,” Rade replied, “I had nothing to do with this. If invaders want to attack my world with clones based on me, what the hell am I supposed to do about it?”

“I think you should take the cloning as a compliment, personally,” Shaw said. “A testament to your physical prowess, that they chose an army based on your physique to lead their invasion.” He detected more than a note of sarcasm in her tone.

“Funny,” Rade said.

“Anyway, Dad, come on,” Shaw said. “We really have to go. It’s not safe here.”

Mr. Chopra glared one final time at Rade, then he muttered something involving the F-word and went inside.

Both parents returned a moment later carrying several pieces of luggage.

“You can’t bring all of that,” Rade said.

“We can, if your lazy ass helps!” Mr. Chopra said.

Rade held out his arms, and the two promptly dumped every last bit of luggage on Rade. He struggled to hold the many pieces of baggage in his arms.

“What am I, a pack mule?” Rade asked.

“Yes, you’re a mule!” Mr. Chopra said.

Rade glanced at Shaw helplessly. “Why is it that whenever your parents make a weekend trip to the city, they have to carry the entire house with them?”

“Algorithm, Brat, help with the luggage,” Shaw ordered.

“That’s right,” Rade said. “Make good use of the combat robots. Reduce them to the role of simple porters.”

It was Shaw’s turn to glare at him. “Not now,” she mouthed.

Rade gave up most of the baggage to Algorithm and Brat, keeping one particularly large suitcase for himself. He hefted it in front of him.

“This should prove a useful shield in a pinch,” Rade said.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Mrs. Chopra said. “My flower sari is in there. It’s my favorite dress.”

Rade shrugged. “It’s either me, or your favorite dress.”

“The dress, of course!” Mrs. Chopra said.

Rade ignored her and glanced at the combat robots. They held the bags in their left hands, and kept their right arms free so that they could wield the rifles. “If you have to fight, you’re going to throw away those bags, or use them as shields, understand me?”

“We understand,” Algorithm said.

“You throw away those bags, we throw away you!” Mr. Chopra said, staring pointedly at Rade.

“That wouldn’t be so bad, right about now,” Rade said. “By the way, could you get your aReal goggles? It would kind of help if you were connected to our adhoc network.”

“Goggles are dead!” Mrs. Chopra said. “The power cells failed! And we forgot our charger!”

Rade nearly threw up his arms, but the heavy luggage prevented him. “All right then, let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Wait, have to make one last run,” Mr. Chopra said. He dove back into the hotel room.

“What the hell’s he doing?” Rade asked Shaw.

“He always triple checks when leaving a hotel room,” Shaw said. “To make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything.”

“Um, do we really have time for that?” Rade said.

Shaw shook her head fiercely. She lowered her voice. “Humor them, please.”

Rade sighed. He knew what was coming.

“Maybe if you were married we would treat you better,” Mrs. Chopra said.

Yup, there it was.

“We’ll meet you at the stairs,” Rade said. He made his way down the hallway with the two combat robots.

Finally Shaw and her parents joined him, and the six of them hurried down the flights of stairs. They reached the lobby.

“Thank you for staying at the International Hotel,” the robot doorman said. “Good luck out there, Mr. and Mrs. Chopra.”

“They don’t need luck,” Rade said. “They have us.”

“We need luck!” Mr. Chopra told the doorman emphatically.

Down the street, fighting had broken out amid the ruins, as predicted. Scorpion units were in the process of overrunning the positions of the snipers that had taken up residence on the rooftops and within the debris. Rade fought off the urge to go to their aid.

There are too many of them. Have to get out of here. Shaw’s parents to protect.

The small party proceeded in the opposite direction, hurrying deeper into the city, and hugging the building walls. The lanes were tight here, the intact buildings bordering close on either side. With all the twists and turns in the road, visibility was poor, and Rade half expected a patrol of clones or scorpions to round the bend at any time.

Rade scrambled over any debris that presented itself and led the way on point, while Brat brought up the rear, keeping its weapon trained on the road behind them with its free arm.

The group neared a cross street; the way forward was partially blocked by the ruins of a corner building that had mostly collapsed onto the asphalt, leaving a husk of concrete beams still standing. The debris formed a mound that spanned the length of the cramped roadway.

Rade motioned the group to wait at the bottom of the rubble; momentarily shouldering his rifle, and using the suitcase he held in his left hand as a cane of sorts, he clambered up the fragments of gypsum to the beam composing the building edge, and carefully peered around the bend. The street beyond was straighter, allowing him to spot a party of ten clones approaching at a run about two hundred meters away. He knew them immediately from the distinctive crescent moon helmets they wore.

Rade ducked out of view and turned around to signal the retreat. The team would have to hide in the rubble or the nearby buildings until the patrol passed, and then they could continue onward.

Rade started making his way down the rubble toward Shaw, but just then the beams composing the husk of the building spontaneously collapsed. At least he thought it was spontaneous—he saw no indication of a missile or laser impact.

“Rade!” Shaw shouted.

As the building frame came crashing toward him, Rade was forced to race down the debris, away from the rubble to the street beyond, and directly into the line of sight of the incoming patrol.

Dust rose into the air behind him. The collapse had filled the already tight street behind him: Rade was completely cut off from Shaw and the others. There was no way he was climbing back up there, not unless he wanted to expose his back to the clones the whole time.

“I’ll draw them off!” Rade said. “Get out of here!”

ten

Rade held the luggage beside him as a shield, knowing that the patrol would be opening fire at any moment. He hurried across the street at a crouch, zigzagging between the debris.

Rade ducked behind a building on the other side of the cross street and paused to examine the luggage. Several dark veins were expanding from impact sites across the surface. He dropped the luggage before those veins could touch his hands. He would have to tell Mrs. Chopra later that her favorite sari had saved his life.

On the overhead map, the positional indicators showed him that Shaw, her parents, and the robots had dashed into the remnants of another building near the collapse. At first he thought Shaw was prudently taking cover to avoid being sighted by the clone patrol, but then he saw the red dots representing the scorpion units near the hotel—according to the map, those units had moved on from the Franco-Italian snipers, and were fast approaching Shaw’s location, likely attracted by the collapse. For those units to be updating in realtime like that, it meant Shaw or the Centurions were witnessing them with their own eyes, and retransmitting the data to his Implant. Which also meant Shaw and the others were likely taking fire.

Well, Shaw could handle herself. It was her parents he was worried about. Not that he could do anything about it.

Got my own problems at the moment.

He aimed his rifle past the bend and had the AI help stabilize the targeting reticle. With the stabilization he was able to align the crosshairs over the eye socket region of one of the clones after several moments. The eye continued to bob about, and when it moved into the center of the reticle, Rade squeezed the trigger.

The tango fell.

He ducked as more fire came in, and the wall beside him blackened with dark veins.

Rade hastily retreated from the building edge, moving farther away from Shaw. He found himself wishing he had a jetpack, or a strength-enhancing jumpsuit. All he had at the moment was the strength of his human body.

And his wits. Never discount wits.

He ran half a block and smashed in the door of a closed pastry shop. He moved inside and aimed past the doorframe, at the corner building where the patrol would emerge behind him.

He noticed his gasping breath. He was surprised by how tired the short sprint had made him.

Getting old.

Though he knew the weight of his upper body was to blame. Without a jumpsuit to compensate for that weight, all the muscle mass he worked so hard to build up in the gym proved an impediment.

He would have to consider allowing those muscles to atrophy sometime.

Then again, how often do I fight without a jumpsuit?

As he waited for the clones to appear, he had a thought. He glanced at the particle beam rifle he still had, and decided to give it a try, curious what the effect would be. If it could cause damage without forcing him to spend precious extra seconds targeting the eye region, then it would be worth it to switch weapons.

He shouldered his laser rifle, lowered the particle beam weapon, and aimed the scope at the edge of the corner building.

The first of the clones rounded the bend. 

Rade fired at its center of mass, then shifted his aim rapidly to the right, in increments, striking the other three that emerged in the chest in turn. They all dropped to the pavement.

The others in the patrol were more cautious it seemed, perhaps noticing the fate of their comrades, and weren’t so quick to rush around the bend.

Rade lowered his aim to observe the dropped clones. Their eyes were closed. The helmet had fallen off one of them, and dark veins spread across its eerily familiar face.

The eyes abruptly shot open and the clone stood. As did the other three.

Rade fired again. The second hit did nothing, and the clones kept heading toward his position, bringing their rifles to bear. The remaining members of the patrol emerged behind them.

Damn. So the weapon functioned as a single use stun weapon of sorts, at least until the nano-machines realized the organic life they were invading was in fact already one of their own.

Rade ducked inside the shop as the door frame blackened from the particle beam impacts.

He hurried deeper into the building, and past a dividing wall to the back area. There was no sign of the owners, but robot pastry chefs cowered within. Rade considered shooting them down with his laser rifle to prevent the enemy from converting them, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“Run!” he said. “They’re coming to the front door! Don’t let them catch you or you’ll become one of them!”

Rade opened the back door and found himself staring into a narrow, pedestrian-only alleyway. The robots suddenly rushed past him, their metal feet clanging on the cobblestone outside. Neither had bothered to check if there were any attackers lying in wait.

Fools.

As he scanned the alleyway and bordering rooftops, a part of his mind wondered why he was able to spare the robot chefs, when in the past he had rarely shown mercy to unarmed alien robots, or aliens themselves. In fact, in the last mission he had given the order to test kill a few members of a peaceful race known as the Taenia, when he was hunting Surus. Of course, he hadn’t known the Taenia were peaceful at the time, but still...

He supposed he gave these robots mercy because they were made in the image of humans, while aliens and their robot creations were little more than bugs in his view.

I wonder if it’s time to change that attitude.

A thud at the door in the adjacent room brought him back to the present moment. He finished his scan of the alleyway and barreled outside, following the two fleeing robots. The closed back doors of different shops interrupted the walls on either side.

Some distance ahead, the alleyway opened into the street beyond. As the two robots dashed out, they immediately collapsed, either mowed down by laser fire or conversion beams.

Not going that way.

He bashed in one of the side doors in the alleyway wall, and found himself in a kitchen. There were more robot chefs here hiding under tables.

Rade shook his head, not bothering to say anything this time as he ran past the robots into the front area. It was a cafe of some kind, judging from the furniture arrangement. The blinds on both the door and window were closed.

He approached the entrance. The door used a traditional manual locking mechanism, he noted, so he wouldn’t have to worry about hacking his way out.

He went to the window blinds and split them apart slightly to peer past. Scorpion units spidered over the debris outside, racing toward the adjacent street, and perhaps the alleyway he had just escaped from.

Trapped.

He tossed over several of the tables, forming makeshift barricades. He arrayed several of the upturned tables in front of each other, layering them. Laser beams would probably get through, but he hoped the barricade would be enough to stop the particle beam weapons the clones used.

He ducked behind one of the tables and aimed his targeting reticle over the top, aiming for the entrance to the back room.

When a clone appeared, he shot it in the eye.

The next man wasn’t as forthcoming. Rade spotted the rifle tip an instant before it fired, and ducked just in time. The wall behind him blackened as veins spread out, crystallizing.

Rade reached toward his belt and detached one of the grenades he had collected. He tossed it toward the back room.

“Frag!” someone said. The voice matched his own.

Four clones dashed into the cafe. Rade had only just reset the aim of his rifle, and was only able to take down one of the tangos before they ducked behind the main room’s counter. The explosion went off, and another clone still in the back room was sent reeling into the main cafe, where he smashed into a wall.

Rade instantly tracked the man with his rifle and fired into the eye region, insuring that the clone wouldn’t get up.

He tossed his final grenade toward the right portion of the counter, and rolled to an adjacent upturned table. Two more clones leaped the counter, and he fired into their eyes in turn. Tricky shots, but his aim proved true, and the tangos dropped like marionettes whose strings had been cut. The grenade detonated a moment later.

He doubted he had eliminated the remaining clones lurking behind that counter; he carefully aimed past the far side of his new cover, and spotted a clone leaning into view on the counter’s left flank. It was scanning the room with its rifle.

Rade centered his reticle over the eye region and squeezed the trigger. The clone collapsed.

I didn’t think I was so easy to kill.

Then again, he was the original Rade. Apparently a lot of what made him who he was had been lost in the cloning process.

There was one more clone left out there, hiding behind the counter. And maybe a few more in the back room that the grenade had failed to eliminate.

“Join us,” a voice said, coming from behind the counter. “The complexities of the universe will be revealed to you. There is nothing to be afraid of.”

Rade didn’t want to answer. He knew it was a trick, meant to make him reveal his position. Actually, that wasn’t true: because of the acoustical design of the room, he wasn’t able to pinpoint where the voice was coming from, so it was doubtful the enemy would be able to locate him if he spoke, either.

Rade pondered the best way to defeat the remaining tango. And he thought to himself:

What would I do?

Rade wouldn’t have stayed on the left side of the counter after emerging from the back room. He would have moved to the right, not wanting his opponent to know his last position. He would have also moved away to avoid the grenade. But in this case he might have traveled back to that spot, because he knew an enemy would have expected him to relocate before the detonation, but not necessarily after.

Trying to outsmart myself...

Rade aimed his scope at the left hand side of the counter on a hunch. He spotted the flared rifle aimed directly at him just in time.

He pulled back and black veins spread along the edge of the table.

Rade rolled to the left and scrambled forward at a crouch, weaving between the upturned tables and racing toward the opposite side of the counter. He dove behind another table and then peered past the edge. There was no sign of the enemy. Had he changed positions again?

Rade considered leaping over the counter and rushing the enemy directly, with the intent of catching him off guard, but he still wasn’t sure if there was anyone still alive in the back room. If there was, doing so would put him squarely in their line of fire.

He continued switching his aim between the left and right sides of the counter, and wondered if the enemy was having the same thoughts of leaping the obstruction entirely, just as he had. Rade momentarily shifted his weapon upward to scan the top of the section, and right at that moment the clone unfortunately chose to expose itself and make its rush.

Rade had merely to shift his aim upward to fire at the eye region. The clone was dead before it hit the ground.

Rade carefully made his way to the back room and slowly peered past to survey the area. None of the clones packed into the small room had survived the grenade detonation. Rade was surprised, given the resiliency of the robot skeletons underneath the charred flesh, but he supposed that the confined space had amplified the damage. He issued kill shots into the eyes of the corpses just to be sure.

He spotted one of the robot chefs, its body crumpled and mangled by shrapnel. Though he couldn’t see any indications of black veins anywhere on its shell, he targeted the AI core and issued a shot to confirm the kill.

There was no sign of the second chef—perhaps it had escaped.

Rade retreated to the front of the cafe and went to the closest corpse. He hastily changed into the camos it wore, donned the crescent moon helmet, and disabled the comm node of his Implant. He wasn’t sure what effect, if any, disabling the node would have, but hopefully it would make his human status less obvious to any clones or alien robots he encountered. The invaders would have their own equivalents of Implants of course, and a comm node produced by the nano-machines. They would perhaps wonder why his particular comm node was inactive. He would tell them that he was damaged. Assuming they asked before firing upon him.

He retrieved his weapons, sliding them both onto the same shoulder, and then retreated to the front entrance. He peered past the blinds once more. It looked clear out there. Not a scorpion in sight: at least some were probably crowding into the alleyway and heading toward the cafe from the backside at that very moment.

He was about to open the front door when he heard a noise behind him.

He slid down the first weapon slung over his shoulder and turned around. He realized he hadn’t been as thorough in his scan of the back room as he thought, because the second robot chef stood before him. He nearly squeezed the trigger, but realized the chef hadn’t been converted: there were no black veins anywhere on its polycarbonate shell. And it wasn’t armed.

He was curious why it had rushed into the main cafe area however, since it couldn’t have known he was on its side, especially given his current attire.

But then Rade understood when two of the scorpion units stepped into view, squeezing into the confines of the cafe. They had given the robot little choice. The chef likely felt surrounded at the moment.

Rade tightened his grip on the rifle. He realized from the flaring muzzle that he had slid down the particle beam weapon from his shoulder. Not his first choice, unfortunately. He wasn’t sure if it would work on the scorpions, but even if it did, he knew he wouldn’t be able to bring down the two of them, not while both of their turrets were aimed at him.

So he shot the chef.

So much for sparing robots cast in my own image.

He watched with regret as the sentient robot collapsed, dark veins spreading across its skin.

Apparently satisfied that he was one of them, the scorpions lost interest and turned away, making toward the back area once more. Rade replaced his particle beam weapon with the laser rifle, securing the former safely to his shoulder.

One of the scorpions paused as the other departed. It turned around, and entered the cafe proper once more, and seemed to survey the corpses of the clones. Then it blasted a series of incomprehensible tones at him, and its eyes cycled through many different colors. Its body language suddenly became aggressive, and the laser turret at the back of its scorpion tail spun toward him.

“Up yours as well,” Rade said, firing his laser rifle between the eyes. The scorpion collapsed. The converted robot chef was just rising in that moment, and Rade shot it too, aiming for the AI core and putting it out of its misery.

He wondered if the strange tones and colors were the scorpion’s way of asking him why his nano-machine comm link was offline. He remembered what one of his men had told him regarding his perception of the Mahasattva language: they spoke in flashing colors and pulsing tones, like the data a machine made.

Keelhaul had told him that. A MOTH under Rade’s command.

Rade had been forced to kill him after Mahasattva nano-machines infected his mind. His biggest regret over the death was that Keelhaul had only been attempting to help them when Rade squeezed the trigger. But Rade hadn’t known that at the time.

He went to the edge of the back room and confirmed that the other scorpion was gone, and that no more were coming, then he returned to the front door and peered past the blinds one final time. The street still seemed clear, at least at first glance. He made a more thorough scan of the rooftops, and the windows, and when he was satisfied he unlocked and opened the door.

He hesitated on the verge. If he went out there, while he might look like them, he had no way to communicate with any aliens he encountered. He wasn’t linked to their nano-machines. He would be relying on his genetics, and his outfit, alone. He was likely to face at least some resistance, with clones attempting to question him as the scorpion had.

Well, if it doesn’t work, I’ll always have my plan B.

He patted his laser rifle and then dashed onto the street.

eleven

Rade kept close to the buildings. He skirted blast craters and the wreckages of vehicles, and climbed over the debris of collapsed walls when they blocked his route. He was slowly looping back to where Shaw had parked the jeep, just outside the center of town. According to the overhead map, the International Hotel was directly to the west, two streets away. Shaw and the combat robots had disappeared from the map when he had disabled the comm node of his Implant earlier, of course. Though even if he had kept the node active, with no network to piggyback on, Rade doubted he would have been in signal range of the team.

He heard the sounds of fighting nearby: shouts; grenades exploding; the metallic crunch of a stricken mech falling into the street from on high. He couldn’t pinpoint the source, of course, not with all the echoes the buildings and ruins produced. Perhaps if he had someone like Bender or TJ with him, he could have had them tap into whatever working security cameras remained in the city and used it to locate all nearby enemies. But his own hacking abilities weren’t quite up to par.

He heard the footsteps of several men. It sounded like they were running.

He ducked into an alleyway.

Six clones rushed past. One of them was looking Rade’s way, and their eyes met.

The clone vanished from view, the momentum of its stride carrying the soldier forward.

Rade moved deeper into the alleyway and aimed his rifle toward the entrance.

The clone stepped into view, its rifle raised to fire at him.

Rade centered his reticle over the clone’s eye, but before Rade could squeeze the trigger, the man seemed to recognize him as an ally, because the clone lowered the weapon and turned away, rushing to resume its place with the others.

On a whim, Rade left his cover and ran after the clones, trying to close with them. The lagging soldier easily rejoined them, while Rade struggled to catch up. He managed to get to within three meters of the group, but by then he was so tired that he started to flag. He was worried his lack of physical ability would betray his true identity, but the clones did nothing, and only once did any of them bother to look back at him. Perhaps they assumed he was injured or damaged in some way.

He finally caught up when the clones started climbing over a debris-clogged street, but they moved with the speed of robot spiders, so that by the time he reached the top of the rubble they were long gone.

He surveyed the streets from his vantage point, but couldn’t see past the nearby rooftops. He climbed down the other side, and took an eastern road that would lead him out of the area of major fighting.

He began to leave behind the ruins as more and more of the buildings became intact around him. There were still the occasional blast craters in the walls, or on the asphalt, but for the most part the structures were undamaged.

He maintained a mindset of caution, approaching intersections warily, constantly scanning his surroundings for enemies.

One time, as he neared a cross street, he glanced over his shoulder and spotted a scorpion unit moving into position on a rooftop across the lane. Its turret swung toward him. Fearing that he had been recognized, he dashed around the bend and took cover behind the building corner.

Circular chunks disappeared from the corner beside him as the scorpion’s laser turret fired. He retreated down the street at a run.

Why does it suddenly decide to fire at me, when neither the clones nor the earlier scorpions did so?

He wondered if he should have simply stood his ground. In Earth’s animal kingdom, some species, notably those belonging to the Felidae family, such as lions and cougars, instinctively assumed another animal was prey when it ran.

Then again, thinking of the way that big turret had pointed at him, he decided it was probably not a good idea to play chicken like that.

He glanced over his shoulder. The scorpion emerged into the street behind him, followed by a second one. And a third.

He dove behind the wreckage of an aircraft that had fallen in the middle of the road. A gunship. He leaned past from his cover, targeted one of the incoming scorpions between the eyes, and fired, bringing it down.

The other two kept on coming. He pulled back as they fired at him while on the run. He clambered to the far side of the gunship, and crouched low, waiting for the enemy to come to him.

He heard the steel-on-asphalt clangor as their heavy feet approached, a sound that grew louder with each moment. And then silence.

Rade peered past the left flank of the wreckage, quickly scanning the street. There was nothing out there, save for parked cars, an upturned truck in the middle of the road, and benches and trees on the sidewalk. No tangos resided in any of the nearby shop windows, or rooftops, either.

Switching his concentration away from the scope to the targeting notch at the far end of the barrel, he swung the weapon around to the far side of his cover, waiting for a scorpion to round the crashed gunship. When no tango came, he directed his rifle upward, aiming it at the top of the gunship, then swept the barrel to the left and right before finally bringing it down to the street level view on the left flank once more.

He sensed motion at the periphery of his vision to the right. He rolled further past the left flank, and out of the tango’s view. Fresh holes appeared in the gunship metal where he had crouched a moment before.

He clambered to one knee and swung his rifle toward that spot, and an instant later the large head of a robot scorpion appeared. He fired between the multicolored eyes and the robot dropped.

He heard a soft noise above: the gentle clang of a steel foot on metal.

He extended his legs, forcing himself to jump backwards. He aimed his weapon at the top of the gunship while in midair. The other scorpion was perched there.

He fired several times, correcting his aim as he did so. He landed with his back on the street, hitting hard. The breath was knocked out of him. He continued firing.

During that time he must have scored a hit to the eye region, because the scorpion crumpled, tumbling and rolling down the gunship until it landed motionless on the asphalt.

Rade slumped in relief.

Motion drew his gaze southward down the street. A jeep swerved between a few abandoned vehicles, heading toward him. 

He zoomed in. Shaw was the driver.

Rade clambered to his feet and waved at it.

He noticed her parents were in the backseat, along with one of the Centurions. Another robot was in the passenger seat.

He realized both robots were targeting him with their rifles.

Rade dove behind the gunship for cover.

Fresh holes appeared in the metal beside him.

He turned on his Implant comm node and he heard the jeep screech to a halt just out of view. The clang of metal feet reverberated from the roadway surface as the robots approached. Rade was momentarily reminded of the scorpions.

He gritted his teeth and swung his rifle to bear. He didn’t intend to terminate the two Centurions. But he would damage them, if he had to.

Algorithm and Brat appeared. Their weapons were lowered.

“It’s me, damn it!” Rade said through clenched teeth.

Algorithm and Brat raised their metal hands in surrender.

“Sorry, boss,” Algorithm said. “I didn’t recognize you as a friendly. Your Implant must have been off.”

“Good guess,” Rade grumbled.

“But it’s working now,” Algorithm said.

“I know that.” Rade stood, stepping out from behind the gunship.

Still in the jeep, Shaw was wearing a sheepish, apologetic expression. “Sorry about that. I told them it was you when I saw you waving, but they had already started firing. I should have slammed on the brakes sooner or something.”

Rade turned toward the robots and said, somewhat angrily: “Get in the back. Squeeze in beside Shaw’s parents.”

Rade glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Chopra as he loaded into the shotgun seat. He tried to feign excitement as he said: “Hey ma and pa!” Anger still tainted his tone, and the words definitely came across as insincere.

“We’re not your parents, fucking guy!” Mr. Chopra said.

As the two were squeezed roughly together by the robots, Rade’s smile became real. It probably appeared a little malicious, but hey.

He stowed the crescent-shaped helmet underneath the seat, not wanting to draw the fire of any human soldiers, who might otherwise confuse him for an enemy unit during the retreat.

Rade turned to Shaw. “You really need to step on it.”

“I know.” Shaw turned the jeep around and floored the vehicle; she weaved between obstacles and made turns at high speed like a wild woman.

That’s my girl.

As he looked at her sexy little body beside him, he found himself getting aroused. If they weren’t in the middle of a war zone, with her parents sitting in the back seat, he probably would have nailed her right there. Then again, he could feel the exhaustion creeping through him. And the urge to just close his eyes and cave out.

He was jolted wide awake by one particularly hard turn that saw the jeep’s right side lift entirely off the street before roughly touching down again.

He glanced at Shaw’s parents. Their eyes were wide with fear, no doubt from Shaw’s driving.

Noticing Rade looking at him, Mr. Chopra met his gaze with a glare.

“Too bad your pet robots didn’t shoot you,” Mr. Chopra said.

Rade winced at the comment, but forced a smile.

He realized Mrs. Chopra was crying.

“What is it?” Rade said, struggling to contain a sudden worry. “Are you injured? Or are we just going too fast?”

Mrs. Chopra finally looked at him, and blinked several times before she said: “Neither.”

“Then what is it?” Rade pressed.

“My sari!” Mrs. Chopra said. “You lost my favorite sari.”

Rade slumped in relief. Then he glanced at Shaw, and couldn’t help the sudden laugh that started deep inside his belly. When Mrs. Chopra struck him several times with her hands, attempting to punch his upper back, it only made him laugh all the harder.

Shaw joined in a moment later.

When he managed to get himself under control, Rade glanced at Mrs. Chopra and said: “We’ll get you another one.”

Mrs. Chopra scowled at him fiercely. “You’ll get me ten.”

“Whatever you want,” Rade said, smiling.

RADE SLEPT FITFULLY as Shaw returned to the suburbia neighborhood in Aubagne where they had left the children with the robots. When they arrived, Shaw’s parents were thrilled to see the toddlers, and showered the twins with attention.

“Anything happen while we were gone?” Rade asked Cora during the reunion.

“No,” Cora said.

“The children didn’t give you any trouble?” Rade said.

“No more than the usual,” Cora said. “Their disciplining goes well.”

“Disciplining?” Rade said. “That’s new.”

“We talked about this,” Shaw said. “It’s a program I installed in Cora and Dora, remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” Rade said. Actually, he barely recalled the conversation. The events that had taken place over the last few days had superseded the memory.

“I made it myself,” Shaw said. She was addressing her parents. “Sil has been breaking into temper tantrums lately when she doesn’t get what she wants. It has to stop. If we let that go unchecked, when they’re older, things will be even worse. I won’t have my kids think that whining and complaining will get them what they want. I’m not even going to allow them to do something like rolling their eyes at me when I speak, or talk back.”

Mrs. Chopra patted Shaw on the shoulder. “That’s my little girl. You’re raising your kids right, just as we did for you. But you better not be any less strict on them than we were on you.”

“Oh don’t you worry, mom,” Shaw said. “These kids are going to grow up proper. No matter how many mistakes my hubby makes.”

“He’s not your husband!” Mr. Chopra said.

“He is, in all but name at least,” Shaw said.

“Then don’t call him hubby!” Mr. Chopra said. “Unless you want to piss me off!”

“Don’t expect your man to do much work in the rearing,” Shaw’s mom said. “Look at your father, after all.”

“I plan to pull my fair share,” Rade said. Then he added without thinking: “Though I doubt Shaw’s dad contributed much to her upbringing.”

Mrs. Chopra glared at him along with her husband. Even Shaw joined in this time.

“Whoops,” Rade said. “I’ll be in the jeep.”

In a few moments everyone had loaded into the vehicles. Shaw’s parents remained in the backseat to watch over the young ones, taking over from Cora and Dora. The Centurions meanwhile squeezed into the SUV. It was a tight fit, with Cora and Dora apparently having to sit in the laps of two of the others. They didn’t complain, of course. No robots did. Well, those that didn’t have nag programs installed, anyway.

Rade wished certain humans, specifically Shaw’s parents, could have selective programs installed and removed in their minds. While there was such a thing as brain editing, it was currently legal in only a few nations.

Rade ordered the SUV to take the lead this time and the two vehicles proceeded through the streets, which were relatively dead by then. They headed away from Marseille, toward the easternmost outskirts of Aubagne.

The onramp was full of vehicles wanting to take the highway out of Aubagne, so the team stayed with the country road for the time being.

Rade settled in, as it was going to be a long drive.

twelve

Rade continued to sleep intermittently as the journey continued. At least, he told himself he was sleeping. Mostly he was zoning out. He’d blink, and realize that twenty minutes had gone by without him realizing it.

The jeep and SUV occasionally had to pass a slow-moving vehicle on the rural road, a maneuver that was made dangerous by the cramped nature of the route, and all the twists and turns, but they managed. Shaw’s mom often begged her not to pass, but invariably Shaw disobeyed if only to keep up with the SUV.

So much for her parents drilling absolute obedience into her.

Rade suspected that children with parents who were too strict rebelled later in life, and Shaw was the prime example of that.

He would have to talk to her about her “disciplining” program sometime.

They drove past signs of tornado damage: uprooted silos, farmhouses obliterated from the Earth, pink insulation caught in the uppermost branches of trees—subtle reminders that the country was still in a state of disaster.

They finally found a ramp leading onto the highway that wasn’t clogged, and then made their way along the coastal road to Saint Tropez. The traffic was light, the jams of those fleeing Marseille and the adjacent cities far behind them. People were apparently transferring to inland highways as soon as they were able, wanting to move away from the coast. According to a hot spot map that was updated hourly on the Internet, there were definitely fewer sightings of invaders in the interior of the country, as long as one stayed away from the bigger towns. Rade had ordered the Centurions to keep an eye on the sky, watching for patrolling pod ships, but there were none. Rade guessed the enemy had decided to devote their resources to assaults on the main cities.

Along the way Rade was finally able to get in touch with George Stanley at the vineyard. The Artificial told him that another alien search party had come to the estate, but George and the farming units had managed to avoid discovery by hiding in the trees of the neighboring lands. George hadn’t answered Rade’s earlier tap in request because of the timing, which coincided with the alien arrival: the Artificial was afraid the request was some sort of ruse by the enemy.

After Rade disconnected, he considered what George had told him. Invaders had come to the estate. That meant there were still some alien craft out there in the countryside, and that not all of the enemies were concentrated on the cities. Good to know. Then again, the invaders might have simply been following up on their earlier engagement at the estate. And maybe they really were looking for him.

Next, Rade tapped in Tahoe.

“How goes it in Saint Tropez?” Rade asked.

“We’ve successfully fended off two waves of enemies,” Tahoe said. “Along with the robots that were converted. We’ve won here. The city is safe for the time being. At least from the invaders. There are still a few collapse hazards from the damage however. By the way, did I mention we teamed up with the Saint Tropez division of the Gendarme?”

“No, but you implied as much the last time,” Rade said.

“Good people,” Tahoe said. “There isn’t anyone else I’d rather have fighting at my side. Except some MOTHs, of course. Or ex-MOTHs, in our case.”

“So what are you going to do now?” Rade asked. “Head back to the villas outside town?”

“No,” Tahoe said. “We’re staying here and helping with recovery efforts. There are a lot of survivors trapped in collapses throughout the city. And we’re still sometimes finding clones and scorpion units hiding out.”

“So much for destroying them to a man,” Rade said.

“I was being rhetorical,” Tahoe said. “Anyway, we’re also setting up Hescos and T-wall barricades in case the enemy decides to send in another wave.” Hescos were low-tech gabions, while T-walls were steel-reinforced concrete blast walls. Both worked great as military fortifications in a pinch.

“So you still have working 3D printers down there it sounds like,” Rade said.

“Not really,” Tahoe said. “The Gendarme drew up the barricades from their reserve stock outside the city. Trust me when I tell you that any industrial-grade 3D printers that might have been available in Saint Tropez have been lost. You’ll see why when you get here.”

“The damage is that bad?” Rade asked.

“Probably worse than you expect,” Tahoe answered. “But as I said, we won. So what happened in Marseille?”

“Ah,” Rade said. “The city is a mess. I don’t have high hopes for it.”

“The enemy is obviously concentrating the greater portion of their forces on the world’s metropolises,” Tahoe said, “with smaller teams no doubt attacking the secondary population centers.”

“I agree,” Rade said, “But they won’t be able to cover even a tenth of all the cities in the world by doing that. So I guess you just got unlucky that they decided to pick Saint Tropez.”

“A tenth of the world’s cities?” Tahoe said. “That’s still a lot of troops. One percent might be a better number. Especially if they’re concentrating on the largest cities, like you mentioned. And I agree, we got the short end of the stick when they chose Saint Tropez to invade.”

“One percent is still a lot,” Rade said. “Requiring millions of troops. Which is probably why they’ve decided to employ clones. Cheap, organic material.”

“Not so cheap,” Tahoe said. “If these things have to be fed, like you mentioned earlier, then that’s an enormous amount of energy, at least in terms of food consumption.”

“Well, obviously the Mahasattva have made it work for them,” Rade said.

“Don’t call them that!” Mrs. Chopra said from the backseat. “Great beings... they are not great! That is an insult to my native language!” Mahasattva meant “great being” in Sanskrit. It was a name the aliens had chosen for themselves. 

Rade ignored her to glance at his overhead map. He zoomed in on the Saint Tropez region. “I see you have access to the Internet.”

“Yes,” Tahoe said. “We should be showing up on your overhead maps.”

“You are,” Rade said. “You see Shaw and the Centurions with me?”

“I do,” Tahoe said. “I suppose the twins are there as well?”

“Yes,” Rade said. “Will that be a problem?”

“Not at all,” Tahoe said. “But the conditions here aren’t really all that conducive to children at the moment.”

“That’s fine,” Rade said. “Because I don’t think we’ll be staying very long. We should be arriving shortly.”

“Looking forward to it,” Tahoe said. “I should warn you, you’ll probably have to abandon your vehicle at the outskirts of the city. The roads here are impassable at the moment.”

“Understood,” Rade said. “Later.”

He disconnected.

Rade perused the online news channels thereafter, but quickly dismissed them: too much pessimism. They showed endless scenes of battle, most of it pitched against humanity. While such news might keep viewers glued to their feeds, the announcers made it seem like humanity was doomed, and that no city stood a chance against these evidently technologically superior invaders. While such news was probably good for ratings, it was bad for the overall morale of humanity.

There was no mention of the success at Saint Tropez for example, nor of the human fleet that still had to be out there in interplanetary space. Given that the comm nodes in orbit were still offline, the latter could be excused, but there was no reason for the news stations to miss the Saint Tropez victory news, other than disorganization, or that it wasn’t a “big enough” story. It made Rade wonder how many other small towns had successfully fended off any invaders, their news lost to the bigger stories taking place in the major cities.

Once the two vehicles hit the highway, it took only an hour to reach Saint Tropez. The traffic had become nonexistent by the time they neared the city, with no vehicles heading into or out of the city, period.

Saint Tropez’s skyline was sheathed in smoke. Shaw couldn’t drive too far inside, as the street was filled with rubble and covered in blast craters—essentially impassible as Tahoe predicted. So she parked and the group exited the vehicles to continue on foot. None of the suitcases from the hotel in Marseille had made it, Rade noted.

Rade and Shaw donned special purpose toddler backpacks and carried the kids with them. Rade took Alex, Shaw, Sil. Shaw’s parents had given the children their aReal goggles, which they had charged during the drive, and the twins were immersed in whatever hopefully child-friendly program the parents had activated. The lenses had become opaque, indicating that the environment they were viewing was completely virtual. He momentarily pulled up the feed on his Implant, and was presented with a carnival type environment filled with balloons and big, fluffy, happy animals. Good enough.

Rade used the map to guide him toward Tahoe’s location marker. He led the way through a narrow path that wound through the rubble; it switched from the sidewalk to the street in turns. He passed rescue workers—robots and humans alike, many of them Gendarme—digging at the rubble of luxury hotels in an attempt to free trapped occupants. He occasionally spotted armed soldiers on intact rooftops, where the men held a grim-faced vigil.

People roamed about aimlessly, covered in dust, tourists with lost looks on their faces, white ghosts whose chapped, crimson lips and red, swollen eyes stood out. One of them was a woman with a crazed expression, who stopped Rade.

“Have you seen my daughters?” the woman asked. “My daughters! Wait, you look familiar...”

Before Rade could answer, her attention switched to Alex on his back.

“Beautiful,” she said. “So beautiful. Like my own.” Tears leaked from her eyes, forming wide runnels in the dust that coated her face. She stumbled backward, landing in the rubble.

“Algorithm, help her,” Rade said. “See that she gets some food and water.”

Algorithm went to her, but the woman suddenly got up, yelling.

She pointed at Rade. “I recognize you now! You’re one of them! One of them!”

She ran away in fear, her shouts carrying off into the distance.

Rade glanced at Alex worriedly, but the kid’s attention remained riveted by whatever the aReal goggles were showing him. Sil remained similarly occupied. He glanced about, but nobody else was paying him any attention, neither the refugees nor the snipers residing on the remnants of the rooftops.

The rubble sporadically receded, so that at times it actually felt like Rade was strolling across a normal street, except for the blast craters and wreckages lining the asphalt.

About half of the luxury hotels were reduced to rubble, the rest barely standing. Instead of beachgoers, the sandy shores beyond the buildings were covered in the wreckages of robots, enemy and ally alike, as well as the bodies of clones and the corpses of Franco-Italian soldiers and police Gendarme.

He passed streets that were barricaded in T-walls. On one of them, Rade witnessed the highest body count he had seen yet. Allied soldiers and robots littered the left side of the wall, clones and enemy units the other. Gendarme were dragging away the bodies of the allied soldiers from those T-walls, and stripping away their jumpsuits.

The Gendarme always watched Rade with suspicious eyes as he passed. Tahoe had informed the personnel to expect the arrival of a man who looked like the clones. Given some of the angry looks those police gave him, sometimes Rade wasn’t entirely certain Tahoe’s warning would prevent them from shooting him down where he stood. But invariably those men’s eyes would drop to Rade’s backpack, and upon seeing Alex, their faces would soften.

That made him proud.

My boy is saving my life today.

“I thought Tahoe told you they faced seventy enemy units?” Shaw said when they left that area behind. “Judging from the devastation, there were a little more.”

“Seventy was only the first wave,” Rade said. “Apparently a second wave came at a later time. Plus don’t forget any robots the invaders converted to their side.”

“A second wave?” Shaw said. “Where are they getting all the resources and energy to produce these units so fast?”

“I don’t know,” Rade said. “But given the nature of their particle beam weapon, it’s not hard to come up with ideas.”

“From the human population?” Shaw asked.

“Bingo,” Rade said.

She shook her head. “This place will be rebuilding for years. And Tahoe says they won here?”

“Those were his words,” Rade said.

“I’m not sure won is the correct term,” Shaw said. “Endured, maybe. But this isn’t what I’d call a win.”

As Rade got closer to Tahoe’s location, the rubble intensified, and there were no longer any paths so Rade was forced to make his own. He and Shaw picked their way carefully through the ruins with the children on their backs. Shaw’s parents happily showed off their rejuvenated physical prowesses while climbing the debris, scarcely needing to catch their breaths; but even they needed help from the Centurions to surmount the tougher sections.

Alex remained quiet in the backpack behind Rade. He was probably hungry, like everyone else. And tired. But the VR environment presented by the aReal goggles kept him distracted.

“You okay back there?” Rade asked when he nearly lost his balance while climbing a particularly tall pile of rubble. He glanced dizzily at his kid.

Alex was still wearing the aReal goggles, but his head had dropped. He was fast asleep.

Rade chuckled softly to himself.

“He takes after his father,” Shaw said from beside him. “Sleeps through the worst of it.” She nodded at Sil, who was wide awake in her toddler backpack, giggling at something only she could see while grabbing at the empty air.

“Maybe he’s learned that you have to take whatever sleep you can get when you’re on a mission,” Rade said. “We’ll make a MOTH of him yet.”

Her face darkened. “Don’t even say that,” Shaw said. “Our kids aren’t joining the military.”

Rade opened his mouth to contest her, but kept silent. He had to choose his battles. Still, he firmly believed his kids should have the choice of their own paths, just as he had selected his own. Whether that path involved the military or something else, it was their choice. If she interfered beyond what he considered a reasonable amount, he would put his foot down, no matter the cost.

I won’t choose our happiness over their happiness.

He doubted it would come to that. But when he glanced back at Alex, and then Sil, his resolve only deepened. She could raise them with a disciplined hand, yes, but she would not steer them into whatever professions she or her parents wanted.

My little warriors.

Rade returned his attention to the rubble mound. He heard a frightened shout behind him, and saw that Algorithm had caught Mrs. Chopra after a misstep.

“Careful,” Shaw told her mom.

“Let go of me, you lout!” Mrs. Chopra said.

Algorithm released her. Mr. Chopra hurried to her side and shielded her from the terrible robot. But then he slipped a moment later, and Brat was there to catch him. Surprisingly he allowed the robot to return him to his feet without saying a word of insult.

Rade reached the peak of the rubble mound and surveyed the terrain ahead. The route wasn’t going to get any easier. A quick check of the overhead map confirmed Tahoe’s location on the beach ahead. According to the HUD, the shortest path to Tahoe was straight across the street ahead, but the problem was that the map didn’t show the devastation that had befallen the city: all the buildings were indicated in the same state they were in when the map was recorded. Given the devastation he saw ahead, Rade decided the best course of action was to divert toward the beach and proceed from there.

He was climbing down the eastern side of the rubble when Tahoe tapped in. His friend was close enough that Rade could use the private adhoc network formed between his Implant and those of the other Argonauts.

“By the way,” Tahoe said. “You might want to take the beach approach.”

“Figured that out,” Rade said.

“A bit late, it looks like, judging from your position,” Tahoe said.

“Better late than sorry,” Rade said.

“I believe,” Harlequin chimed in over the comm. “The correct expression is better late than never.”

“Damn back talking AIs!” Bender said over the line. “What the hell you doing, listening in to Tahoe’s conversations with the boss anyway?”

“Tahoe was speaking on a public channel shared by our Implants,” Harlequin said. “Of course I had no choice but to listen.”

“Yeah, well listen to this then!” Bender said.

Rade heard an audible clank over the line, and he had to smile.

“Bender, are you all right?” Harlequin asked.

“Leave me alone AI!” Bender said.

“Bender just punched Harlequin in the face,” Tahoe said. “It didn’t turn out so well for his hand.”

“Settle down boys,” Shaw said.

“Oh hi, Shaw!” Bender said. “Good to hear you got back safely. How was Marseille?”

“A dream, as always,” Shaw said.

“I’ll bet,” Bender said. “You missed out on all the fun.”

“We had some of our own, don’t you worry,” Shaw said. “We’ve brought the twins.”

“Ah, not the little bitches again!” Bender said.

“I told you to stop calling them that,” Shaw said crossly.

“Err!” Bender said. “I meant the princely little King and Queen.”

“Of course you did,” Manic said. “The day you believe the boss’ kids are Kings and Queens is the day you’re able to punch Harlequin in the face without hurting your hand.”

“That day is coming soon!” Bender said. “I’ve been getting in lots of practice. On your face!”

“Well, at least he didn’t say your ass,” Fret commented. “He’s maturing.”

“Bro, you don’t understand the meaning of mature,” Bender said.

Rade disconnected. He glanced at Shaw, who was smiling widely, like him.

“You know, I’ve missed them,” Shaw said.

“As have I,” Rade said. “But I have to admit, it was good to have a vacation from them. If only for a little while.”

“It was.” Shaw reached across and held his hand for a moment, and then she released it to continue down the debris.

At the bottom they took a narrow sidewalk that was clear of rubble, situated between two of the collapsed hotels, and made their way onto the beach. 

“Ah, the sea,” Rade said. “It’s a second home to an ex-MOTH like me.”

“Time for sea immersion and gingerbread men?” Shaw said, making a reference to a torturous routine from his training years.

“Now don’t get carried away,” Rade said. “It wasn’t that much of a home to me.”

Rade led the way to the water and then followed the shoreline. Behind him, Mr. and Mrs. Chopra took off their shoes and walked in the lapping waves.

“Uh,” Rade said. “This isn’t a vacation on the French Riviera you know.”

“It is to us,” Mr. Chopra said.

Shaw shook her head subtly and said, softly: “Let them.”

Rade shrugged, and continued to address Shaw’s dad: “Suit yourself. If we have to run in a hurry, and I mean a no-time-to-put-back-on-your-shoes kind of hurry, your feet are going to get fairly cut up by the debris in town.”

“That’s what Weavers are for,” Mr. Chopra said snidely.

The Weavers will be reserved for the soldiers who actually need them, Rade wanted to say, but he wisely held his tongue.

Rade gave the occasional clone corpse or scorpion wreckage a wide berth. He saw long channels in the sand near them that indicated where the bodies of dead soldiers had been dragged away.

Three police ships were abutted against shore here, including an older style F.P.B.—Fast sea Patrol Boat. The nasty-looking laser turrets the watercraft carried on the fore and aft regions were blackened at the tips, a sign of heavy use. One of the smaller ships was scuttled, with a huge hole in its side. Whether the damage happened before or after reaching shore, Rade hadn’t a clue. Those ships belonged to the Coast Guard equivalent, the Maritime Gendarmerie, and Saint Tropez was lucky they had come to the city’s aid. Most of the other ships in the area would have been recalled to defend Marseille, undoubtedly.

There were a series of open-air tents set up about fifty meters past the boats. Gendarme and Maritime Gendarmerie personnel milled about, the two types readily distinguishable from one another because the former wore jumpsuits that were the same color as the sand, while the later wore the typical blue and gray digital camos common to Navy men. Both carried laser rifles slung over their shoulders, though the Navy men also had smaller blasters attached to their utility belts.

A large tent near the middle of the beach had a red cross on it, indicating a field hospital. Its presence meant that any hospitals in the city were most likely destroyed. It was obvious the beach was functioning as a temporary command and control. There were probably other such operating sites situated throughout the ruined city.

As Rade headed toward the tent that harbored Tahoe’s indicator, he still got the occasional double-take or all-out stare as men recognized him, no doubt thanks to his striking resemblance to the invaders. It unnerved him. He was accustomed to existing in complete anonymity. Sure, sometimes people gave him a second look because of his towering build and musculature, not to mention the hardpoints protruding from his joints, but it never happened with as much regularity as this.

Tahoe’s tent was one of the few that were closed on all sides. As Rade neared, the entry flap slid aside and his friend emerged to greet him.

thirteen

Rade gave Tahoe a hearty hug.

“Good to see you, old friend,” Rade said.

“And you as well,” Tahoe said.

Shaw hugged Tahoe next; the big Navajo accidentally bumped Sil, who still resided in the backpack. Sil began to cry, even though she was wearing aReal goggles, and Shaw reached around to take the aReal off, then carefully shrugged the backpack down to console the child.

“Sorry,” Tahoe said.

“She’s fine,” Shaw told him. “It’s just been a tough couple of days.”

Rade didn’t have to ask Tahoe if anyone was hurt, because he had accessed the status feeds of the men on the way here. Everyone was in the green.

Bender emerged from the tent with TJ, followed by Fret and Manic, and finally Harlequin and Lui. Bender’s hand was wrapped in a bandage, no doubt from his little incident with Harlequin earlier. The others had smaller bandages covering different areas of their bodies. They were obviously lower down the priority list for the Weavers, who would be treating the most badly injured at the moment.

“Lookie here,” Bender said. “You’ve gone and brought mammy and pappy Shaw! Hello hello!”

“Sister fucker!” Mr. Chopra said, turning away from Bender and the men and crossing his arms.

Bender smiled sarcastically. “I love you, too.”

“All the robots made it intact,” TJ said. “I’m very happy to see.”

Algorithm came up to TJ and they went through a complex series of fist bumps and slaps.

Rade lowered Alex and removed the aReal goggles from his boy. Alex rubbed his eyes and looked up at Bender.

“There’s the little warrior,” Bender said. “What’s up, my main man?”

Alex’s face brightened, and he said in his babyish voice: “Sister fuckah!”

Bender frowned. “Uh.”

Shaw spun on her dad. “Stop using words like that around my kids!”

Mr. Chopra seemed appropriately chastened. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t know they would hear.”

“They soak up words like a sponge,” Shaw said.

“Sponge!” Sil said, her earlier discomfort forgotten. “Sponge sponge!”

“Cora, Dora, you’re in charge of the kids,” Rade said. “Babysit Mr. and Mrs. Chopra as well.” Shaw’s dad glared at him, but Rade continued. “See that they are given some food. Feed the kids, and check if they need to use the toilet.”

The robot nursemaids had worked hard to wean his kids off the self-cleaning diapers before they were between two and three months old using a technique known as elimination communication. Alex took a bit longer, but in the end the robots had him trained. Rade was happy to give up the self-cleaning diapers, as changing the collectors could get fairly nasty at times. Somehow he found himself getting that duty often in the days when the twins still wore the things.

“Psss psss,” Sil said, using her word for pee time.

Cora brought Sil toward the ocean. Dora lifted up Alex, and brought him toward the ocean as well, in case he had a similar urge. Mr. and Mrs. Chopra reluctantly followed. Lui joined them, making faces at Alex, who was giggling away. Of all the men, Mr. and Mrs. Chopra seemed to like Lui best. At least, they tolerated his presence anyway. Perhaps even more than they tolerated Rade.

“That was hilarious man,” Manic told Bender when the kids were gone. “Even Alex recognizes you for what you are.”

“No,” Bender said. “The kid made a mistake. He was actually referring to you.”

“Ah, he probably was at that,” Manic said. “Referring to me and your sister...”

Rade raised his hand quickly. “Guys, please. I’m not in the mood for your bickering today.”

“Sorry boss,” Manic said.

Bender shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on bickering. Dude’s words stopped hurting me years ago.” He suddenly turned on Manic. “What was that about my sister, punk ass?”

“There’s someone here I’d like you to meet,” Tahoe said quickly. He drew Rade away from the others and led him through the makeshift camp. “This outpost was actually raised by the officers aboard the landed ships, shortly after the fighting ended. It started as a field hospital, and they built outward from there. Closer to the center of town, there’s another combat outpost started by the Gendarme, in a reinforced school that survived the attack.”

“For a Navy base, there are sure a lot of Gendarme here,” Rade said.

“The army is sharing men with them, of course,” Tahoe said. “The officer I’m going to introduce you to is in charge of coordinating operations between the two outposts.”

Tahoe took him toward what looked like the central command tent. It was open-air, like the rest, the canopy held aloft by steel poles. Underneath, men in Navy camos sat in the sand, some gesturing in midair, others moving their mouths silently, their voices shielded by noise cancelers in their helmets. No doubt they were inside their Implants, communicating with their counterparts in the city or other municipalities in the region.

Some of the men glanced at Rade uncomfortably as he walked by, perhaps recognizing his features and unsure whether he was acting for the enemy as an undercover agent.

Tahoe brought him to one of the men speaking soundlessly into the air. The individual was dressed in a strength-enhancing jumpsuit. When Tahoe approached, the man waved a hand in acknowledgment and then continued his silent conversation.

The officer finished a moment later and stood.

“Lieutenant Bastille,” Tahoe said. “Meet Rade Galaal. The ex-MOTH I told you about.”

“Ah, Monsieur Galaal!” the lieutenant said. “I have heard very much about you and your exploits. And your resemblance to the enemy is indeed uncanny. More than uncanny... it’s downright disturbing. Is it true that they based their clones on your DNA?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Rade said.

“I would not wish such a fate on anyone,” the lieutenant said. “To feel responsible for the deaths of so many, even though what happened was not in your hands.”

“Uh, yeah,” Rade said. “I don’t really feel responsible, but let me just say, I’m royally pissed off at these intruders.”

“And I do not blame you,” the lieutenant said.

“You’ve been in contact with other cities in France and Italy?” Rade said. “How goes the defense?”

Rade could finally get the behind-the-scenes lowdown direct from the horse’s mouth, rather than the doom and gloom opinions of Internet newscasters who had limited access to the actual battle space.

“The defense goes well, in some cities,” the lieutenant answered. “Not so well in others. Marseille has held its own against the enemy so far, with no clear wins or losses on either side. Other coastal towns have either been wiped out, or repelled the enemy entirely, as we have.”

Rade glanced at Tahoe. “So much for the enemy limiting its attacks to the major cities only.”

“Lyon seems to have fallen,” the lieutenant continued. “Paris is close to falling, though the country has thrown its considerable military might behind the capital city. For good reason—the enemy is concentrating its forces upon that city above all others. Enemy troop pods fall from the Parisian sky every few hours, and if it’s not pods, it’s tornadoes, as the invaders still control the weather grid. In Roma, the military still holds and defends key parts of the city, but the outlying areas are gone. Firenze fares about the same as Marseille. Milano is the bright spot, as they’ve beaten the enemy back to the city boundaries.”

“Any news on other countries around the world?” Rade said.

“According to my counterparts, other nations fare similar to France and Italy,” the lieutenant said. “There are small victories set amid a general backdrop of loss. While we have won here in Saint Tropez, for now, and won some small victories in other cities, overall humanity is losing. In some nations, the losses have become so bad, so overwhelming, that all hope has been lost. Take the Persians. They’ve dropped a nuke on one of their most populous cities, which they lost early on to the enemy. These are humanity’s darkest, most trying hours.”

“I’m surprised the United Systems wasn’t the first to nuke one of its own cities,” Rade commented.

Lieutenant Bastille raised an eyebrow, but otherwise had nothing to say to that.

“You mentioned the invaders still control the weather grid,” Rade said. “How come they haven’t sent another storm at Saint Tropez or Marseilles yet?”

“They probably don’t consider the locations of these cities to be all that strategic,” the lieutenant said. “Then again, we do expect a storm of some kind to strike Saint Tropez soon, likely preceding the third wave.”

“Third wave?” Rade asked.

“Yes,” the lieutenant said. “We’ve already repelled two waves of the enemy. It’s only a matter of time until a third arrives. This pattern is prevalent among all cities that have been attacked: three waves come. The time between attacks varies, based on the unknown resource allocation requirements of the enemy. But a third wave will come. And likely a fourth, and a fifth, until all of humanity’s cities have fallen. This is why I append all of my answers regarding the status of Saint Tropez with the two words: for now.”

“Guess I was a bit premature in saying we won, earlier,” Tahoe said.

Rade hastily bid the lieutenant farewell, and he and Tahoe made their way back to the open tent on the beach where Shaw was catching up with the men over a quick meal.

“Damn it, Tahoe, I’ve carried my kids into a war zone because of you,” Rade said.

“I’m sorry,” Tahoe said. “I was convinced we’d repelled the invaders for good from the city. I had no idea the lieutenant was expecting a third wave.”

“After we’re finished eating,” Rade said, “we’re leaving Saint Tropez. If there is another attack coming, I don’t want the kids here. Nor the men. We’re getting out.”

“What makes you think the countryside will be much safer?” Tahoe said. “You told me you spotted troop pods traveling above farms and vineyards in the region. Plus you already suffered an attack at the vineyard.”

“Sure, there may be pods searching the rural areas for inhabitants,” Rade said. “But like the lieutenant told us, the majority of the enemy are concentrated in the cities. And I’m still convinced that what we saw near Shaw’s vineyard wasn’t representative of the countryside as a whole. The enemy was looking for me.”

“Because you can access their tech?” Tahoe asked.

“That’s my working assumption,” Rade said.

“The countryside...” Tahoe shook his head. “At least let the men make their own choices. If they want to stay and fight, they should be allowed.”

Rade studied Tahoe curiously. “I noticed that Tepin and your kids aren’t here. Where are they?”

“I sent them to an estate thirty kilometers outside of town,” Tahoe said. “With two combat robots.”

“Then that’s where we’ll go,” Rade said. “It’s too dangerous here.”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Tahoe told him. “Some of the men will want to stay. I want to stay.”

Rade felt a sudden anger. “You could have told me earlier that you had no intention of leaving with me! I would have never come to the city.”

“It never occurred to me,” Tahoe said. “I assumed you wanted to fight. I’m sorry. I should have warned you. I should have thought it through. I’ve put your children in danger.”

“No,” Rade said, sighing. “The fault is mine. If I really wanted to play it safe, I could have left the twins at some estate outside of town. I was just so eager to see you guys. Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I appreciate the gesture,” Tahoe said. “And I apologize again.”

Rade looked deeply into Tahoe’s eyes. “You really want to fight, don’t you?”

“It’s our duty,” Tahoe said. “We all have to defend the Earth. Our homeworld. You really came here only to get us out?”

“I came to help with the rescue and recovery operations,” Rade said. “And to get you out. But I never came to fight.”

“I thought you were ‘royally’ pissed off that the enemy sent your clones to conquer the planet?” Tahoe pressed.

“I’m certainly pissed, but I’m done fighting for Earth,” Rade said. “What has Earth ever done for me, except cause me grief? There’s nothing I can do here, anyway. I’m getting the twins, Shaw, and her parents, and I’m bringing the Centurions with me. If you or any of the men want to stay, that’s your choice. I won’t make you come with me. You can stay and fight if you want. I just won’t be a part of it. I have a family to protect now.”

“You could leave your family with Tepin, and come back to fight with us,” Tahoe said.

“Your kids are almost fully grown, Tahoe,” Rade said. “You’ve fulfilled your role as father. Mine is only just beginning. I can’t put my life needlessly at risk. I’m going to stay with them.”

Tahoe nodded slowly. “So Shaw has really succeeded in changing you, in that regard.”

“Leave her out of it,” Rade said.

“It’s what she wanted, by having kids,” Tahoe said.

“Tahoe...” Rade warned.

Tahoe raised a defensive hand. “All right. But tell me something: what if Earth falls?”

“If it does, it won’t be my fault,” Rade said.

“I’m not saying it will or it won’t be your fault,” Tahoe said. “I’m just asking, what will you do if it falls?”

“If it comes to it, I’ll leave the planet with my family,” Rade said. “We’ll try to reach the Argonaut. If it’s destroyed, or we otherwise can’t, we’ll buy passage on another ship if possible.”

“It might be too late by then,” Tahoe said. “If most of the cities fall, you might not even be able to get off the surface.”

“I’ll deal with whatever the universe throws at me as it comes,” Rade said.

“You’re really going to abandon us then...” Tahoe said.

“There’s only so much a few men can do,” Rade said. “Our fate is in the hands of the world governments. And their militaries. We’re just two men. And we’re not in the military anymore.”

“Two men can make a difference,” Tahoe said.

“Not this time,” Rade told him.

“Maybe Surus has some ideas,” Tahoe said.

“If she does, I haven’t heard from her,” Rade said. “Look, with your permission, I’ll do my best to get your family out if things go sour.”

“Thank you,” Tahoe said. “Of course you have my permission.”

“You really should come with me,” Rade said.

“I can’t,” Tahoe said.

Rade nodded. “All right. I’ll say my goodbyes to the men, and then it’s time to leave.”

Rade knew those goodbyes would be the hardest he had ever made. He wasn’t sure if he would be able to hold it together, especially knowing he might not see any of them ever again.

Even so, Rade intended on following through on everything he had said. He really did.

Unfortunately, shortly after those words had left his mouth, an air raid siren sounded somewhere in the distance.

fourteen

Rade exchanged a worried glance with Tahoe.

“Looks like that attack is coming earlier than we thought,” Rade said. He and Tahoe broke into a run. The wind picked up, and waves assailed the shoreline. The water splashed high into the air, but didn’t reach the tents, which were placed well above the high-water mark. Rade noticed that the sky had become a greenish black.

Shaw raced from the open tent, along with the men. Her parents had the twins secured to the packs on their backs; Cora and Dora and the remaining Centurions surrounded them as escorts, their guns lowered and scanning the surroundings.

“We have to get to the jeep!” Rade told Shaw when he arrived. “We’re leaving!” He glanced at the men. “If you want to stay, that’s your choice.”

“Uh, the ocean...” Lui said.

Rade followed his gaze to the broiling sea and saw several waterspouts winding across the swelling waves.

“The city is worse,” Manic said.

Rade glanced to the east. Above the ruined buildings, he saw several F2 and F3 twisters weaving toward Saint Tropez.

“Damn it!” Rade said. “We take shelter, now! Tahoe, is there a basement or something nearby?”

“There’s an underground parkade beneath a half-collapsed hotel,” Tahoe said. “A short jog away.”

“Lead the way!” Rade shouted above the rising wind.

Military personnel hurried past them toward the city, likely in search of similar shelters. Or maybe they were planning to take up defensive positions for some expected attack. Though he doubted anyone would dare remain out in the open when those tornadoes hit, unless they couldn’t find shelter—at that point, the best plan of action would be to lie in a ditch or other depression, and cover one’s head and neck. Many of the deaths that occurred during tornadoes were attributed to blunt force impacts caused by objects hurled as missiles.

“We should follow the lieutenant and his men!” Fret said.

“Looks like they’re headed toward the school.” Tahoe glanced at Rade and said, by way of explanation: “That’s the second combat outpost near the center of town I told you about earlier. We fought there during the second wave. While it’s fortified, we’re safer at the parkade during the storm... the school has no basement.”

“And what about when the storm ends?” Fret said. “And the invaders come?”

Rade had to make a split second decision. He glanced behind him at the waterspouts, and decided there wasn’t time to risk journeying to the center of town, not while those tornadoes were out there.

“Keep going,” Rade instructed Tahoe. “To the parkade!”

Tahoe led the party through the debris trail alongside a hotel, and crossed the street to a partially collapsed building.

“This is it!” Tahoe said.

Tahoe led the Argonauts to the back area and attempted to kick open a door that evidently led to the underground parkade. There were no windows, or other points of entry the team could use to get inside. At least not from outside the hotel.

After three attempts, Tahoe stepped aside and glanced helplessly at the others.

“This door was open earlier!” Tahoe said. “The wind must have shut it!”

“Allow me,” Harlequin said.

“I want the door intact,” Rade warned the Artificial.

“Understood.” With one blow, Harlequin crumpled the lock.

Rade frowned. “I said intact,” he shouted above the gusting wind.

Harlequin shrugged. “The door is intact. The lock is not.”

The Artificial swung the door open. Stairs led down into darkness.

Tahoe made to rush inside, but Rade held him back with a blocking arm.

“Wait!” Rade said above the gale. “Centurions Ernie, Formaldehyde, Grumpy, and Humpty, inside! Clear the parkade!”

He didn’t want to risk that any tangos who had escaped the initial fighting might be hiding out down there, especially considering that the door had closed—and locked—since the last time Tahoe had discovered it. Of course, the wind could have been the culprit, and the door was likely auto-locking, but still...

The four robots entered.

Rade waited impatiently as the frigid wind tore at his hair and loose clothing. He glanced at the waterspouts, which had reached the beach by then and officially become tornadoes.

“Come on,” he said over the comm.

Rade glanced at the twins. Shaw’s parents had given them both the aReal goggles again, and had no doubt activated the noise cancelers to blot out the external environment entirely, leaving them immersed in their calming virtual world. Still, the toddlers must have felt the wind, because they were squirming about in the backpacks. Sil seemed to be crying, but if so, her wails were lost to the raging gale.  

Rade gazed down the stairs and into the dark parkade. Unlike Marseille, power was completely out throughout the city of Saint Tropez, and the only light reaching the windowless basement came from outside; and that wasn’t much, considering the darkened skies. The hotel would have had a generator to provide a backup source for the solar cells, but that generator would have used up its own power supply by then. Not that it really mattered how well-lit the basement was: the robots could use LIDAR to navigate down there.

“Entrance is clear!” Ernie reported. “The parkade has several vehicles, and many pillars between them that could function as hides. We’re fanning out to confirm no tangos are lurking inside those vehicles, or behind the pillars.”

“Roger that,” Rade said. “Tahoe, Bender, cover them.”

The two men dashed down the stairs.

Rade worriedly glanced at the tornadoes behind him, then switched to Tahoe’s viewpoint via his Implant, shrinking the video feed to take up a quarter of his vision. While Tahoe, like all humans, had no innate ability to see in the dark without a jumpsuit, the Centurions transmitted their LIDAR data to his Implant in realtime, which depicted the underground parkade as a white, three-dimensional wireframe. Friendlies, such as the Centurions, appeared as a bright blue outline, courtesy of the tiny comm nodes in them. 

“Clear!” came the announcement over the comm a moment later.

Rade dismissed Tahoe’s feed and waited by the entrance to beckon the others inside. When everyone had gone ahead of him, he entered and shut the door behind him. But since the lock was damaged, the door wouldn’t close.

“Harlequin,” he sent over the comm. “See if you can find anything to barricade this door with.”

It was a myth that opening the doors or windows in a building would “equalize the pressure” and prevent a tornado from causing damage. Rade’s purpose in sealing the door had nothing to do with the storm itself, but rather he wanted to keep out any tangos that might use the twisters as a cover to attack. He wasn’t sure the enemy had enough control over the tornadoes to actually steer the deadly whirlwinds around their own troops, but he wasn’t about to assume anything about the invaders at the moment. They might attack regardless if they had any influence over the tornadoes’ paths, their troops weaving between the deadly objects with blatant disregard for their own safety.

Harlequin came up the stairs, carrying a large tool closet he had found somewhere in the parkade. He braced it against the door, blocking the entrance.

“Good job,” Rade said.

He hurried down the stairs and into the parkade with Harlequin. The human members of the team had activated their weapon lights, while the Centurions turned on their small headlamps—mostly for Shaw’s parents, who didn’t have access to the Implant data. The cones of light illuminated the dark regions within the white wireframes of the LIDAR.

Like the others, Rade activated his weapon light and surveyed the parkade with the thin light cone from the rifle. The concrete parkade proved quite extensive, capable of fitting perhaps a hundred vehicles when full. He swept his scope over the pillars marking each stall; there were only fifteen or so parked vehicles there—it seemed most of the guests had evacuated before the main attack had come. 

Across from the outer doorway Rade and the others had used to enter, there was an alcove containing a stairwell and elevator combination that probably led to the hotel lobby. On the eastern and western sides of the parkade were ramps climbing to closed garage doors situated at street level. Those garage doors creaked loudly as the wind assailed them, and the gusts occasionally howled against the small openings along the edges. Both noises echoed eerily across the concrete basement.

“Move toward the center of the parkade,” Rade ordered. “Fret, monitor the surface chatter. Keep us apprised of the situation above.”

“Will do,” Fret said as the group made their way into the parkade. “But one thing... is this such a good idea? Going underground like this, I mean. If that tornado hits the hotel, won’t we be trapped in here?”

“If it hits the hotel, the building will be sucked upward,” Lui said. “You’ll want to grab on to one of those pillars.”

“But the remaining portions could collapse, trapping us,” Fret insisted.

“Skinny bitch, anything is possible,” Bender said.

Shaw glared at him. “Please, watch your language in front of the kids.”

Bender shrugged. “Don’t matter. Your twins are shielded by noise cancelers anyway at the moment. Blissfully ignorant.”

Rade looked at the twins, who still wore their aReal goggles. They had calmed down, and sucked contentedly on lollipops in the real world while immersed in their virtual environments.

“Even so, you have to get used to watching your language in front of them if you want to stay on this team,” Shaw said. “So you might as well start now.”

“But I don’t feel like right now?” Bender said.

Shaw frowned. “A-hole.” She looked away.

“Hey!” Bender said. “Watch your language.” He shook his head. “Women these days. Double standards all around.” He glanced at Fret. “So as I was saying, skinny bitch, you gotta stop worrying about possibilities, and deal with the situations as they come.”

“You’ve been calling me that for two years,” Fret said quietly.

“What, skinny little bitch?” Bender said. “So? Don’t tell me you’re going to side with Shaw on this.” He forced his tone up an octave in an attempt to mimic Fret: “Oh Bender, please stop swearing, for the sake of the little children!”

“Have you seen the bad review a former client left on our InterGalNet site?” Fret said. “And I quote: ‘One member of the team overuses the word bitch. He calls birds little bitches, trees leafy bitches, and food tasty bitches. He is a sexist, a homophobe, and a racist.’”

Bender shrugged. “So?”

“Run away boys and girls, the bad man is here!” TJ mocked.

“We all know that Bender is none of those things,” Lui said. “We also know that the moment Bender gives in to what some disgruntled client has posted on our InterGalNet site and starts self-censoring himself, is the moment when everything we’ve been fighting for all these years is truly lost.”

“I’m not saying he should stop saying the word bitch or stop telling his unfunny jokes,” Fret said. “All I’m asking for is a little slack. I don’t really like being called a little bitch.”

“Dude,” Lui said. “He knows that. Why do you think he still calls you that after two years. If you didn’t react to his words, he’d stop. Have you ever noticed that you and Manic are the only ones he calls bitches? There’s a reason for that.”

Bender flashed that golden grille of his in a broad grin. “The reason is quite simple, Lui my pockmarked friend. It’s literally because they’re both bitches.”

Fret threw up his arms.

fifteen

Rade and the Argonauts hunkered down in the middle of the parkade near an exotic sports car parked between two pillars.

“Nice car,” TJ said.

To show just how unimpressed he was with the car, Fret crossed his arms and leaned against it. “Makes a good seat.”

“And an even better toilet!” Bender said from the far side.

“Ah man!” Lui said, holding his nose.

Mr. and Mrs. Chopra let down the two toddlers and talked to them softly, even though both twins still wore aReal goggles. Shaw stayed close to them, along with Cora and Dora. No doubt the nursemaid robots had given Mr. and Mrs. Chopra pass-throughs so that their voices could penetrate the noise cancelers.

Rade heard what sounded like rain then, the droplets striking the garage door entrance at the top of the westernmost ramp, joining the creaking and howling produced by the wind.

“By the way, I borrowed some glow sticks from a stash I saw back there,” Lui said. He produced a small cylindrical packet.

“How many do you have?” Rade asked.

“Four,” Lui said. 

“Let’s position those at the entrances,” Rade said. “Algorithm and Brat, get to it.”

Lui tossed four cylindrical packets to the designated robots.

Algorithm and Brat placed the glow sticks in front of the closed garage doors at the tops of the ramps on either side of the parkade, and at the outer doorway Rade and the others had used to enter, and within the alcove containing the stairwell and elevator combination. After depositing each packet, the robots broke the internal membrane, causing a green glow to emanate from within. In a minute, all four entrances were lit up.

“Argonauts, target those entrances,” Rade said. “I don’t want to be taken by surprise if any invaders decide to break in here during the storm.”

“But what if some poor inhabitant of the city only wants to get inside?” Mrs. Chopra said. “Seeking a shelter from the storm?”

Bender sniggered, pulling up his pants as he came around the far side of the exotic. He glanced at TJ: “I thought she said seeking a shitter from the storm!”

“That’s because you just took a dump!” TJ said.

Mr. Chopra glared at the two of them. As did Shaw.

“Language!” Shaw said.

“Jeez,” Bender said. “The language police are in full force this morning. Can’t even say dump.”

“We’re trained to recognize civilians, ma’am,” Lui told Mrs. Chopra.

Rade nodded. “If it’s a civilian, obviously we’ll let them inside. But if not, we open fire.” He doubted any civilian would be able to break through the barricade Harlequin had set up behind them, though it was possible someone could come inside from the garage door areas, or the lobby.

Rade decided to direct his scope at the westernmost entrance, where the rain beat loudly against the garage door. It sounded like hail had joined in the assault as well. He checked the orientations of his Argonauts on the overhead map, and saw that the aims of the combat robots and humans were distributed almost evenly among the four entrances.

That made him smile. He loved a disciplined team. It required less micro-management.

“Tahoe, should we turn our Implants off?” Rade said. “Or the comm nodes?”

“We’ve seen no evidence that the enemy can track us based on Implants,” Tahoe said. “How about you?”

“No, not really,” Rade said.

“So, off or on?” Tahoe asked.

“We’ll turn the comm nodes off, for now,” Rade said. “Just to be safe.”

On the overhead map, team members winked out one by one.

Rade kept his eye on the scope, but since he kept his other eye open for situational awareness purposes, he could see Fret beside him, still leaning against the exotic, rifle aimed toward the lobby. Fret shifted slightly, and the side view mirror broke away from the expensive vehicle, landing with a loud clatter, and the tinkle of breaking glass.

“Dude, you just cost the owner of that car five grand,” TJ said.

“Five grand to repair a broken wing mirror?” Fret said. “I doubt it.”

“For an exotic, that’s on the cheap side,” TJ said.

“Who made you the expert?” Fret asked.

“I’ve owned a few exotics in my day,” TJ said.

“How come we’ve never seen you riding them?” Manic said.

“That’s because you were never fly enough to get an invite,” Bender said, flashing that grille of his. “Back in our MOTH days, when we were between deployments, TJ and I cruised the avenues in his Lamborghinis on weekends. I tell you, combined with our dashing good looks, our muscular builds, and that car, we quite literally had pussy throwing itself at us.”

“Actually, in all honesty, he’s exaggerating the effects of the car on the fairer sex,” TJ said. “It was all about our good looks and magnetic personalities. As for the Lambos, most of the attention we got was from guys.”

“Guys?” Fret said.

“Yes,” TJ told him. “Guys seemed the most interested in the cars, I learned over time. I’d cruise along the streets, and heads would turn. Most of them men. Which is why I got rid of the exotics, eventually. Got sick of men glancing at me with envy in their eyes. Got sick of all the questions at the gas station. Rarely did a woman come up to talk to me about the car. In fact, most seemed turned off by it.”

“Probably depends on the neighborhood where you flashed the car,” Lui said.

“I suppose that could have played a factor,” TJ said.

“So wait, there’s no way you could have afforded to buy a car like this,” Manic said. “Not on our MOTH salaries. Except secondhand, maybe.”

“Secondhand?” TJ said. “No way. I’d never buy an exotic secondhand. The owners drive them until the engines are shot to hell. They sell them the day before the warranty expires. Never ever buy an exotic secondhand. Unless you’re ready to perform a complete engine overhaul. Even something as small as 5K on the speedometer means the car is crap.”

“Okay fine, so if you didn’t buy your Lambos secondhand, how did you do it?” Manic pressed.

“Try looking into real estate sometime, my friend,” TJ said.

“Ha!” Manic said. “Like real estate on this planet is worth anything now!”

“Hey, I’m going to be buying up a bunch of plots as soon as this invasion is done,” TJ said. “Mark my words, it’ll be a buyer’s market out there. Depressed prices across the board.”

“How can your men be so calm when there is a deadly storm taking place just above us?” Mrs. Chopra asked Shaw. “With tornadoes coming in from all sides!” In the background, the low rumbling of what sounded like a freight train could be heard slowly rising above the relentless pelting of the rain and hail.

Shaw glanced at Rade. “I’ll let you answer.”

Rade sighed. “Compared to some of the things we’ve faced, Mrs. Chopra, well, of course we’re going to be calm. We could die, it’s true. But there’s also a good chance the tornadoes will miss us, I think.”

“But you don’t know that,” Mrs. Chopra said.

“I suppose not,” Rade said. “But when you’re in the heat of battle, with lasers coming in from all sides, you also don’t know if one of them will hit you. All it takes is one mistake on your part. Sometimes not even a mistake, but the hand fate deals you, and then you’re dead.”

“It’s also a way of dealing with the fear,” Tahoe said. “When you know death is knocking on your door, you put on a facade of calm, and you joke. It’s all you can do. The crudest, most morbid humor you can come up with.”

“Like sticking your dick in a dead ostrich,” Bender said.

“Huh?” Manic said.

“I’m giving him an example of crude, morbid humor,” Bender said.

The roaring sound outside became louder.

“You hear that freight train in the background?” Tahoe said. “Almost lost to the hail? That’s a tornado.”

Mr. and Mrs. Chopra stiffened.

“Sounds like rapids to me,” Manic said.

“It’s getting closer,” TJ said.

Mrs. Chopra whimpered.

“Good job, scare Shaw’s parents won’t you?” Lui said.

“Better that they know,” Tahoe said. “If you were them, wouldn’t you want to know if your doom was coming?”

“Actually, probably not,” Lui said with a grim laugh.

As the tornado’s sound grew in volume, Shaw slung her rifle over her shoulder and wrapped her arms around Sil to rock the toddler back and forth. Mrs. Chopra did the same for Alex. Both children were still oblivious to their surroundings as they wore the aReal goggles. They had finished their lollipops, and seemed calm. Alex occasionally giggled.

“I don’t know what the hell they’re watching,” Bender said, staring into his scope beside Rade. “But I want in.”

“We all do right about now,” Rade said. “Keep your eye on the entrances.”

The freight train sound grew quite loud, so that Rade could have sworn the twister was on top of them.

“I believe the tornado is passing directly alongside the street next to the hotel,” Harlequin said. “Judging from the resonance properties of the concrete composing this parkade, and the volume levels.”

Rade kept his rifle steady on the garage door. In addition to the creaking and howling, that door had begun to clatter loudly, as a portion of it had gotten loose from its track and flailed about in the rampant winds.

And then the freight train roar began to diminish. Very slowly at first, but it was definitely noticeable.

“It missed us,” Harlequin said.

Rade exhaled softly.

“It’s not over yet,” Tahoe said. “Tornadoes are unpredictable beasts. It could easily turn around at any time. Or another tornado could come in. We saw quite a few out there.”

“I’m getting sporadic reports from across the city,” Fret said. “It seems that more troop pods are landing. It looks like the enemy is using the storm as cover for their third wave after all.”

Rade glanced at his children. Exactly what I wanted to avoid.

“Hang tight, Argonauts,” Rade said. “We’ll get through this. Hopefully, the attack will pass without the enemy ever knowing we’re here. I suspect they’ll be drawn to the school, where they know the Gendarme are holed up. Especially once the fighting begins in earnest, and it becomes obvious that they’ll need reinforcements in the area.”

“So we might not see any action you’re saying,” Bender told him. “Well, that’s no fun. Sometimes you can be a real stick in the mud, boss. A party pooper. A wet blanket. Killjoy. Sourpuss.”

“That’s right, keep throwing out synonyms,” Manic said. “You’re pretty good with the thesaurus in your Implant.”

“Don’t need no thesaurus,” Bender said. “That was all from memory. I’m just that good.”

“I might be a killjoy,” Rade said. “But at least my family will be safe.”

“Your family?” Fret said. “And what about us?”

“I was counting the Argonauts as part of that extended family,” Rade said.

“Oh,” Fret said.

Several quiet, tense moments passed. The tornado’s roar was almost completely gone. It had definitely moved on.

“Alex just signaled that he has to go to the bathroom,” Mrs. Chopra said. “It’s a bit of a frantic signal.”

Rade glanced at Mrs. Chopra. Alex was still inside his virtual environment, though one hand repeatedly tapped Mrs. Chopra on the arm.

“Poo poo,” Alex said.

“Cora, take Alex from Mrs. Chopra,” Rade said. “Carry him behind the pillar and let him do his thing. Don’t take off his goggles, if possible. Tap into his virtual environment, and create a toilet for him so he doesn’t feel like he’s defecating on the floor. And be quick about it.”

“Will do,” Cora said. She accepted Alex from Mrs. Chopra and vanished around the pillar. 

“When nature calls...” Manic commented.

“Whew!” Bender said. “Y’all catch that reek? And I thought Manic smelled bad... boss, your kids bring new meaning to the word stench.”

Rade was still aiming at the clattering garage door when it broke inward entirely.

sixteen

Down!” Rade hissed. “And comm nodes back on!”

He crouched entirely behind the exotic car. He activated the comm node of his Implant and the dots representing the other team members blinked back into existence on the overhead map: if tangos were coming into the garage, there was no point in negating the advantages the tech provided. Specifically, the silent communication.

Rade switched to text mode and sent to the team, via his Implant: Headlamps and weapon lights off! We rely on the glow sticks. No LIDAR either, Centurions.

The lights went off across the team, but there was still enough of a glow from those four sticks to illuminate the entire parkade, though the light levels were fairly low in places.

Rade peered carefully over the hood with his rifle scope. The gale blew the collapsed door down the ramp until it caught against the wall near the bottom, roughly fifty meters from where Rade crouched. Rain and hail swept inside from the opening; some of the larger pieces of hail bounced all the way down to the broken door with the help of the gusts. 

Could have been just the wind, Manic texted via his Implant.

Rade continued to scan the opening, which was illuminated by the greenish light from the glow stick. He began to wonder if it had perhaps been a mistake to activate the stick, since if the door had indeed fallen in on its own, an outside observer would have probably easily spotted the glow in the storm.

Harlequin, Rade texted. Fetch that glow stick. Get it away from the garage door.

Harlequin left cover from behind a nearby pillar and began making his way toward the door, keeping low.

Rade glanced at the overhead map to confirm the positions of his Argonauts. Most were crouched behind the exotic, with some scattered around the nearby pillars. Cora was still behind the closest pillar with Alex, while Sil was with Mr. Chopra, beside his wife. Shaw and Dora were with him, behind the exotic.

When Harlequin was about twenty meters from the ramp, the Artificial passed another exotic, this one a Landau.

But just then a scorpion unit appeared at the garage door opening, outlined in green by the glow stick.

According to the overhead map, Harlequin immediately ducked behind the vehicle.

Hold your fire! Rade sent.

Rade kept his scope aimed at the scorpion, and watched the unit enter fully into the greenish glow near the entrance. Its four legs moved mechanically, and water trickled down the segmented surface of its metal shell. Those lobsterlike pincers opened and closed, while the tail calmly swiveled about, directing the laser turret at its tip to and fro. A sudden gust blew a large amount of hail onto its abdomen and thorax, but the small particles bounced away readily, not disturbing the robot in the least. Some of the hail collected in a small depression near the base of its tail.

The robot paused to examine the glow stick, and upon recognizing what it was, the unit continued down the ramp. Rade heard the distant buzz of servomotor equivalents echoing from the walls as the alien unit advanced, and the muted clang as each foot touched the concrete floor.

Another scorpion unit entered behind it, followed by a third. A final unit emerged so that there were four of them spread out in a long line, advancing cautiously into the parkade. Likely there were more units waiting outside for the advance party to clear the parkade.

The lead scorpion reached the bottom of the ramp, and then pied the left side at the bottom with its turret, while another unit pied the right side. Then the four proceeded forward in unison, scanning both flanks. The two lead units would pass a pillar, and then wait, while the trailing units would fan out into the empty stalls on either side and check behind the pillars from the other side.

Whenever the scorpions encountered a vehicle, the lead unit would advance to the far side and stab its turret past the edge, and then advance beyond it when that flank seemed clear. The trailing unit would proceed along the opposite side of the vehicle, until reaching the rear portion that abutted the concrete wall, confirming that nothing hid there.

Prepare to fire, Rade texted.

The robots reached Harlequin’s position. The lead robot shoved its turret past the edge of the Landau he sheltered behind, but Harlequin wasn’t there. The trailing robot on that side went to the rear of the car. Nothing.

Unknown to the scorpions, Harlequin had crawled underneath the Landau, at least according to the overhead map. An amazing feat, considering how low to the ground those cars usually resided.

The robots continued prowling deeper into the parkade, approaching the positions of Rade and his Argonauts.

Target them between the eyes, Rade sent.

When the four units were about three meters from the far side of his cover, Rade texted: Open fire.

Humans and Centurions alike unleashed laser rifles at the same time, and in moments all four scorpions went down with bore holes littering their eye regions; sparks flew from servomotors and turrets.

As Rade suspected, more units were waiting outside at the top of the ramp, because a turret appeared at the far opening.

I’ve got tangos, Harlequin sent. Western opening.

“I see them,” Rade replied over the comm. There was no point in continuing to communicate via text anymore, not when the enemy knew the team was hiding there.

Bore holes appeared in the hood of the exotic car that shielded him, and Rade dropped to the concrete floor. Mr. Chopra was already lying down beside him, shielding Sil with his body. Around him, the other Argonauts were likewise prostrate on the surface behind the exotic or the nearby pillars.

He heard a rapid clang of metal; one or more scorpions were making a rush. He was about to lift his rifle above the hood but saw more boreholes appear in the vehicle—the other scorpions were covering their comrade.

Rade aimed underneath the undercarriage of the vehicle instead. He spotted the moving feet of two scorpions as they raced down the ramp. He attempted to target the lead, but it vanished behind a pillar on the far side of the parkade. He swept his scope to the left, searching for the other, but that unit also vanished, disappearing behind another pillar.

He glanced at his overhead map. Two new red dots lurked behind the concrete columns near the western ramp, marking the last known positions of the scorpions that had dashed inside. Another two red dots resided beyond the entrance itself, where more scorpions provided covering fire.

“If you have a shot of the newcomers, take it,” Rade ordered his Argonauts.

Harlequin remained pinned down at the forward position, underneath the Landau.

Rade rolled to the side, toward the front end of the vehicle that was his cover, and leaned slightly past. He aimed his targeting reticle at the edge of the more distant pillar and spotted a turret slowly peering past.

Rade fired and the turret instantly retracted. Rade drew back, expecting return fire to come from the scorpion lurking behind the second pillar.

But that incoming fire never came. Rade learned why a moment later.

“Got one,” Harlequin said over the comm. “But I believe my position is now compromised. I am retreating at a low crawl.”

The freight train sound was growing louder again, but there was nothing Rade could do at the moment but ignore it. He hoped a tornado didn’t strike the hotel, but if it did, maybe the ensuing confusion might help his team escape.

A loud crash from behind alerted him to the garage door on the opposite flank falling in. He swung his rifle around to that side; the glow stick there illuminated the green silhouettes of clones hurrying down the ramp to assume positions behind the pillars of that flank.

“Tangos on the rear!” Tahoe said.

Rade and others opened fire, aiming for the eye regions and terminating some of those clones before they could take cover. Other clones remained near the entrance, firing suppressively.

Partially exposed on that flank, Rade was forced to crawl toward the rear of the exotic car, alongside the others near him. They squeezed between the closest pillar and the vehicle. Sil was held tightly by Mr. Chopra, and she seemed to sense that something was going on, because the toddler remained very still, even though she wore an aReal. On the back side of the pillar, Cora still gripped Alex, who had finished his potty break. Cora hugged him with her body, while Shaw fired at the tangos from beside the robot. Judging by the smell, Alex’s defecation lay on the concrete floor nearby. 

The wind howled madly from both sides now, with hail bombarding the two upper ramps in separate waves, depending on the whims of the gale.

“Cover me,” Rade said.

He dashed from cover and rushed to the next pillar on the eastern side, moving closer to the clones. He positioned himself so that the exotic car in the previous stall continued to shield him from the scorpions on his rear, while the concrete column protected him from the clones in front.

Rade saw dark veins appearing on the edge of the pillar. The veins quickly crystallized.

“The clones have particle beams,” Rade announced. As usual.

“I hate those,” Lui said.

“You and me both,” Rade replied. He maneuvered around to the other side of the pillar and dropped completely to the concrete floor. Then he aimed his rifle past the edge. He spotted the outline of a humanoid shape crouched behind a pillar near the entrance. Rade centered the targeting reticle over the eye region. He couldn’t see the actual eye, the most vulnerable spot on those clones, but he squeezed the trigger anyway.

The tango dropped.

He pulled back behind the pillar, and a moment later the sliver of the concrete along that edge began to blacken and crystalize as well.

A sudden gale whipped at his clothes and hair. The tornado must have been close for those gusts to penetrate even down here.

He barely heard a crash above the combined sound of tornado, hail, rain, and wind. Flickering shadows drew his gaze to the entrance his team had used to enter the parkade. The tool closet came tumbling into view, landing at the base of the stairs that led up. Then more clones dashed inside from that entrance, bodies illuminated by the third glow stick.

“And now we have tangos to the south,” Manic said casually.

“Die bitches!” Bender said, mowing two of them down.

Rade joined in, but he only got one clone in the eye. More continued to stream down, some of them wielding ballistic shields that protected them entirely from the laser fire. They must have pilfered those from fallen Gendarme, and he thought it odd that they used them, given that the bodies of those clones were essentially ballistic shields themselves. It gave them some extra protection for their eyes, he supposed; if he had been a clone, and he came upon a shield, he would have used it, too. The clones held blasters of some kind, which they had placed in the notches at the tops of the shields and shot with.

“Damn it,” Rade said over the comm. “They’ve got us surrounded on all sides. We have to get to the lobby before it’s too late. Algorithm, Brat, hurry to the alcove behind me. The rest of you, lay down suppressive fire. Cover them!”

Rade targeted the eye region of a clone without a shield that had taken cover behind a pillar, and struck it down. There weren’t any other tangos in view in that direction, save for two clones behind ballistic shields, so he concentrated on the latter. Those two promptly moved behind pillars; that told him that those shields were definitely not invulnerable, and probably from the Gendarme after all, because like any ballistic shield there was a limit to the amount of damage they could take.

“We’re at the alcove,” Algorithm announced.

“Get upstairs with Brat and clear the lobby!” Rade instructed. “Lui, Manic, get to the alcove and cover them!”

Rade continued to defend.

The freight train roar began to recede: the tornado had near-missed again.

And then he heard a soul-curdling scream behind him. At first he thought that Shaw had been struck. But it wasn’t Shaw.

Cora knelt on the concrete floor. Alex lay in front of her. Shaw was beside them, her face contorted in a mixture of shock and grief.

Rade saw it then, illuminated by the light from the alcove: dark veins were rapidly traveling up his son’s arm.

Alex had been hit in the hand by a particle beam.

seventeen

Rade was faced with a terrible choice. A choice no father should have to ever make.

He had no time for thought, only action. He could not think, could not dare contemplate what he was about to do, lest he change his mind.

He scrambled to his feet and rushed out into the open, heading toward his son. He moved as if in a trance, like a man watching his own life seep away before him. All of his being focused on that tiny arm, and those veins, those terrible dark veins, spoiling that beautiful pale skin. The rest of Alex’s body was convulsing; the aReal goggles protected him from the outside world no more.

Rade didn’t care if he was struck by the enemy while he was exposed like that. In fact, he almost hoped a laser would find his heart so he could join his son in death. So he could avoid the pain of what he was about to do.

Rade shoved Cora aside and knelt between the pillar and the car. Shaw looked at him with sheer terror in her eyes. She had no idea what he was about to do. That terror was reserved entirely for their son, who she was watching die before her.

Death, an old friend.

Rade moved faster than he ever had in his life. There was no time... no time...

Rade dropped his rifle and pinned down Alex’s convulsing body, placing one knee on the shoulder, and outstretching the arm. He paid no attention to the black veins underneath the skin he touched. Gave no thought to potential contamination from the nano-machines that were multiplying in the tissues underneath, and poisoning the blood.

Rade unsheathed the X72 knife from his utility belt.

Seeing that knife, suddenly Shaw seemed to understand what he was about to do.

“Rade, no!” she said. “Rade! Stop!”

The corpsman’s voice at the back of his mind reminded him that the cut needed to be clean, aimed directly across the limb so that the blood vessels would seal off and help reduce the bleeding.

Rade obeyed that voice and struck the arm before Shaw could prevent him, or before he could stop himself. The laser edging of the knife activated and he cut clean through with a single hit, the laser coating partially cauterizing as the blade penetrated.

Alex stopped convulsing, apparently blacking out as his arm fell away.

Rade dropped the knife, rapidly removed his utility belt and tightened it around the squirting wound to act as a tourniquet. He fumbled only once, smearing his fingers with sanguine fluid, before securing the belt. The blood flow ceased.

Alex remained unconscious.

Rade glanced at the severed limb. It continued to blacken beside him.

Rade rolled up Alex’s sleeve, lifting it over the shoulder region, but so far there was no sign that the poison had spread.

Rade slumped, unable to believe what he had just done.

“My son,” Rade said, though his voice was lost in the storm, and the continuing battle. “My poor son.”

Something brutally shoved Rade to the concrete.

“What have you done!” Shaw screamed.

She scooped up Alex and embraced the child protectively, remaining crouched between the pillar and the vehicle. Beside her, Mr. and Mrs. Chopra were looking at Rade with an aghast expression. Sil was still held in Mr. Chopra’s arms, oblivious to what had happened thanks to the aReal. When Rade met his eyes, the face of Shaw’s dad contorted into sheer rage, and for a moment Rade thought the man was going to jump him.

Looking away, Rade slumped against the pillar. He had saved Alex. He knew he had. All it took was a glance at the ever blackening arm, and at the pale shoulder of his still living son, to confirm that.

His gaze was drawn to the dismembered limb: metal veins had formed along the perimeter of the limb, burrowing into the surrounding concrete, where they crystallized. In moments the skin of the severed arm itself turned to crystal, as the nano-machines apparently died. They needed a complete human body to thrive, not just an arm. 

Rade examined his fingers where he had touched the limb. There was no sign of any nano-machine infection. At that point, he doubted he would have had the strength of will to hack off his own arm to prevent the spread. He was mentally and physically exhausted.

His eyes defocused as the storm and the fighting continued raging around him. He stared blindly ahead. A part of his mind registered that Tahoe had taken over the defense. That was good. That was very good...

“Lobby is clear,” Algorithm said. “As is the stairwell leading to the second floor. There won’t be any attackers coming in from this vector anytime soon: the main entrance is buried in debris.”

Rade hardly heard.

“Boss!” Tahoe said. “The lobby is clear!”

Rade grabbed his rifle. Time to fight.

“Centurions, cover us,” Rade said. “Argonauts, to the alcove! Shaw, let’s go!”

She ignored him.

“Shaw!” Rade tried again.

She finally looked at him, then scrambled to her feet, as did the Chopras.

Rade fired at the enemy as he ran, as did the other Argonauts, while the Centurions still hidden behind pillars laid down suppressive fire.

Rade and the others reached the alcove.

“Bender, Manic, stay behind, cover the Centurions,” Rade said. “The rest of you, upstairs. Centurions, retreat to the alcove, then join us upstairs!”

Rade reached the dark lobby. Like Algorithm had said, a portion of the second floor had collapsed, and the entrance was completely lost in the rubble. There were no visible windows. A few of the robots had released LIDAR bursts earlier, so that a three-dimensional wireframe representation of the room overlaid the darkness.

Rade continued directing the retreat until the party reached the second floor. Algorithm and Brat stayed near the top of the stairwell, and were defending against the clones that had followed into the lobby.

The hallway was dark, illuminated only by the sparse light that penetrated through the windows on the far sides of the hall. Rade didn’t dare give the order to activate headlamps, not wanting to draw the enemy to those windows. He was vaguely surprised to see the glass intact after all the fighting—those were certainly a sturdy pair of panes, a part of his mind noted. 

The other part of his mind experienced a moment of sheer exhaustion, and Rade stumbled, falling.

“You okay, boss?” Manic said, kneeling beside him.

Rade sat back against the wall. “I just need a moment.” He glanced at Shaw and her parents, and the twins they held. Shaw cradled Alex close, her tears wetting his unconscious, pale face. The boy was still alive. Breathing. His upper shoulder remained white, though the arm underneath ended in a stump shortly thereafter, the tip below the tourniquet soaked in blood.

Seeing that blood, Rade began to zone out once more. He saw himself hacking away at the body of his son. Hacking and hacking Alex to pieces.

He realized Harlequin was kneeling beside him, saying something.

Rade gazed at the Artificial blankly.

“Boss,” Harlequin repeated. “Boss.”

“I’m here,” Rade said absently.

“We have to get your son to a Weaver,” Harlequin said. He nodded toward the child. “He’s lost a lot of blood. He will die.”

Rade was a universal donor, but he had no means of transfusing that blood.

“I don’t suppose anyone here has a first aid kit?” Rade asked Harlequin.

“Unfortunately, no,” Harlequin said.

“Is there a hospital nearby?” Rade asked.

“The hospital was lost in the first attack,” Tahoe said. “But there is a field hospital at the school. I’m highlighting it on your map.”

Rade glanced at the overhead map. The school was three blocks away to the west.

“I assume you exchanged linkage codes with the local Gendarme?” Rade asked.

Tahoe nodded. Rade received a linkage request from Tahoe a moment later. Rade accepted, connecting himself, Shaw, and the Centurions to the wireless adhoc network formed by the Implants and comm nodes of the Gendarme in the city.

On the overhead map, about fifty red dots now surrounded the school, indicating the location of enemy tangos the Gendarme had spotted. Blue dots representing friendly units also appeared, with the majority concentrated within the school, and others scattered at various locations throughout the city.

“We can’t get to the school, not with those tangos dug in like that,” Rade said.

“If you look at the map, you can see the least number of tangos reside on the eastern side,” Tahoe said. “I remember that vector from the earlier battle. It’s a park, filled with the wreckages of enemy units, and trees, picnic benches, fountains. Ample places to hide. I’ve already been in touch with the lieutenant, and apprised him of our plight. He’s agreed to place extra rifles on the eastern rooftop to provide covering fire. We’ll probably be able to snipe a bunch of enemy units on the way in as well. Assuming we can get a shot at the eyes.”

Rade hesitated. It would be risky.

“The other choice is to wait until the fighting is done,” Tahoe said. “And then we’ll be able to walk right into the school. Assuming it’s still standing. But by then, your son will most likely be dead.”

Rade gazed helplessly at Alex. Shaw glanced at him with desperate eyes. Pleading, begging eyes. She wanted him to do something. Anything.

He glanced at Sil, who yet remained oblivious in the arms of Mr. Chopra. Then he focused on the Argonauts around him. They were waiting for his command. Waiting to follow him to the gates of hell and beyond if he so ordered it.

His gaze finally fell on Algorithm and Brat, who defended at the top of the second floor stairwell, which had no sealing door. The two robots were taking heavy fire, and mostly remained crouched behind the bordering walls.

“We make for the school,” Rade said.

eighteen

But once we leave this hotel behind,” Rade continued. “I won’t blame any of you if you don’t want to come with me to that school. We’ll be exposed, out in the open. And depending on the ruins, our path could be treacherous.”

“Boss, the hell you talking about?” Bender said, coming to his side. “We’re going to give you and your kids an honor escort. None of these alien bitches are going to lay a single goddamn finger on you or your family. Your kids are my kids. And I plan to protect them with my life. I speak for all of us.”

Rade felt himself tearing up, and he quickly looked away, unable to meet anyone’s eye. “Thank you.” He hardened himself, and raised his voice. “Argonauts, I need an exfil.”

“Got a fire escape past the window here,” Harlequin said over the comm. He had taken up a position on the far side of the hallway with a Centurion, and both were gazing out from either edge of the window frame.

“Any tangos in sight?” Rade asked. From his seated position on the floor, he saw smears of rain streaking the pane and that was about it.

“Not to eyesight,” replied the Centurion, Ernie. “Visibility is limited to twenty-five meters, because of the storm. But I’ve detected LIDAR bursts from the buildings across the street. I believe they belong to two enemy snipers, as there are no other friendlies in the area. I doubt they’ve detected our positions as of yet. Though it’s probable the tangos on our rear are in contact with them, and likely telling them to watch for us.”

“Probable indeed,” Rade said.

“Permission to target the source of those bursts and eliminate the enemies?” Ernie asked.

“Permission granted,” Rade said. “On the condition that you and Harlequin target both of them at the same time. I don’t want them to transmit any identifying LIDAR data to any other nearby tangos.”

“We’ll have to release our own LIDAR bursts to properly target them,” Harlequin said. He had purchased LIDAR attachments for his Artificial body a long time ago, and they were embedded within his eyes along with his other sensors. Some rifles had similar attachments, but not these models unfortunately.

“Do it,” Rade said.

Harlequin and Ernie exchanged glances, then they stepped away from the window, dropped to their knees, and positioned themselves underneath the sill. Then they both stood up and fired in unison at the glass and into the raging storm. Small bore holes melted through the window.

“Tangos are down,” Harlequin announced. “Unfortunately, it’s highly likely that they transmitted our coordinates before dropping, as it took me a few milliseconds to acquire my target after releasing the LIDAR burst.”

“Did your burst return anything else out there?” Rade asked.

“There are no other tangos on the street,” the Centurion replied.

“All right, here’s what we’re going to do,” Rade said. “We proceed onto the fire escape and hurry down. Algorithm and Brat, you’ll stay near the window, covering the hallway. Ernie, Formaldehyde, your job is to stay at the top of the fire escape, and observe both sides. Watch for any tangos that attempt to round the building. If they do, take them down.”

“Roger that,” Formaldehyde said.

Harlequin broke the glass with the butt of his rifle and immediately the wind gusted inside. Rain and hail pelted the carpet.

Rade smelled the dusty scent of fresh rain immediately. That and something else... the stench of burnt wood. There were obviously a few fires raging throughout the city, despite the storm.

The team proceeded outside onto the metal grill of the fire escape. Centurions helped Mr. and Mrs. Chopra through the window frame and into the rain. Rade followed near Shaw. She and her dad had placed heavy blankets over the toddlers to shield them from the rain and hail.

When Rade stepped through, the cold wind and rain bit right through his shirt, chilling him to the bone. The rain stung his eyes, and the wind gusted down into his right ear, causing internal pain.

Rade smiled blackly.

I’ve been through worse.

He momentarily had a flashback to MOTH training, and the terrible cold he had endured at the hand of the instructors. Lying in the cold sea, forced to interlock arms with his brothers to stay warm.

He dismissed the thought and tried to focus on the present moment. He couldn’t help but relish in the pain and discomfort. He felt that he deserved it for what he had done to his son.

No. I saved my son. Despite what Shaw and her parents might think. If I had let those nano-machines reach his brain, he would be dead to us. Forever. At least now he has a chance.

A barrage of hail peppered his face. Most of the pellets had become fingernail-sized or smaller by then, though they still stung. And the occasional bigger pellets remained amid the onslaught: he felt a flare of pain as one particularly large piece struck his cheek. He lowered his head, covering his hair with one hand, wishing he had a helmet.

He hurried down the metal grill of the fire escape. He could see only twenty-five meters through the heavy rain in either direction when he shielded his eyes. Underneath it all, he still heard the subtle roar of the tornado—or tornadoes—which lurked somewhere nearby. Lightning occasionally brightened the rain-soaked street below, followed almost immediately by the ear-ringing clap of thunder.

He was forced to pause while Tahoe, in the lead, took a moment to release the ladder that led to the pavement. Then the party continued the descent, sliding or climbing down the ladder in turns. Cora and Dora lifted Mr. and Mrs. Chopra in their arms and leaped directly to the ground. The Centurion named Grumpy did the same for Shaw. She continued to grip Alex tightly, while Mr. Chopra had Sil.

When everyone had reached the hail-covered pavement, Rade momentarily switched to the viewpoint of Algorithm; the Centurion stood at the top of the fire escape, behind the window frame, and was aiming into the hallway. Algorithm lay down suppressive fire, pinning down the clones that had reached the top of the stairs.

Rade returned to his own viewpoint and shouted over the comm: “Grumpy, Humpty, stay here and watch both flanks until I give the order for the other Centurions to come down. The rest of you, cross the street. Head toward the alleyway.”

“It’s difficult to target the flanks by visual light alone in this weather,” Grumpy said. “Permission to utilize LIDAR bursts?”

“Granted,” Rade said.

Rade and the others splashed across the wet asphalt in the storm. The surface was littered with slippery hailstones. Rade scanned the buildings as he ran, piggybacking on the LIDAR bursts from Grumpy and Humpty to see past the twenty-five meter visibility limit imposed by the heavy rain. On his overhead map, he designated those Centurions who remained at the top of the fire escape as Fire Team Two, or F2.

Rade reached the alleyway and then paused just inside. “Lui, with me.” He glanced at the top of the fire escape. “F2, get down, and cross to the alleyway with Grumpy and Humpty! We’re covering you!”

The four robots leaped from the fire escape, falling the two stories to the street below and landing easily on their feet. As they crossed the street with Grumpy and Humpty, Rade kept his rifle aimed at the top of the fire escape, as did Lui, both of them watching for tangos. The hail pelted away at his rifle.

When a clone appeared in the window, Rade centered his targeting reticle over the eye region and squeezed the trigger.

The clone vanished from view.

Rade and Lui continued to issue covering fire, and when the robots reached the alleyway Rade moved deeper inside, allowing Algorithm and Brat to bring up the rear.

A few moments later Algorithm announced: “Tangos already on our six.”

“Take them down as best you can,” Rade said. “But don’t stop.”

Rade and the others reached the far side of the alleyway, which opened onto a pile of rubble. The debris reached all the way to the rooftop of the building across the street.

“Get to that roof!” Rade said. “Climb the rubble!”

The Argonauts hurried over the slick fragments. The Centurions helped Shaw and her parents, while Rade and the others mostly fended for themselves. Rade slipped three times, cutting his knee, and his arm. Superficial wounds. The cold was quickly forgotten from his exertions.

He finally pulled himself onto the ceramic tiles of the roof. Because of the sloping nature of the gambrel design, only a few hailstones had collected on the roof tiles.

Good.

Rade lay down on the hard, bumpy surface and aimed back at the alleyway egress.

The others reached the top and assumed sniping positions on either side of him, while Cora and Dora huddled together near the center of the rooftop, protecting Shaw, her parents and the twins.

LIDAR bursts off, Rade instructed the robots via text.

Two clones emerged from the alleyway a moment later and moved into the street. The first went high, the second low.

Don’t fire, Rade texted.

His finger remained on the trigger, ready to unleash the laser if the tangos spotted him or the others. But so far it seemed the enemies hadn’t noticed the Argonauts. Rade suspected that was because his well-hidden team looked like part of the roof on the LIDAR band.

More clones emerged, and the enemy group advanced cautiously, scanning the rubble, the street, and the rooftops around them.

Five clones in total appeared, along with two scorpions.

That was about all Rade was going to allow for the time being.

Take them down, Rade texted.

The team opened fire and in moments all seven tangos were down.

More rifles protruded from the alleyway, and they were aimed at the rooftop.

“Retreat!” Rade said over the comm. “Algorithm, Brat, some cover!”

The team pulled away from the edge. Bender remained behind with the two robots, firing away.

“Bender, let’s go!” Rade said, reaching the apex of the roof. He lowered himself over the other side of that apex, and aimed past to offer suppressive fire for Bender and the Centurions. “Now! Algorithm, Brat, you too!”

Bender reluctantly obeyed, low-crawling away from the rooftop edge with Algorithm and Brat. Near the apex, the three rose to a crouch and hurried over.

The team climbed down the roof on the far side and continued moving away like that, picking their way across the debris and flooded streets through the chilling storm, occasionally planning ambushes to strike at their pursuers when the rubble slowed them down.

When they were almost at the school, Cora made an announcement: “The tourniquet somehow loosened along the way. I tightened it when I noticed the blood staining Shaw’s side, but I fear Alex will go into hypovolemic shock unless we reach a Weaver soon.”

“Pick up the pace!” Rade growled.

By the time they reached a park located upon the eastern outskirts of the school, the tornadoes had faded away, as had the hail, leaving only the heavy rain.

“Look,” Fret said. Like the others he had taken up a position at the edge of a debris pile next to the park.

Rade joined him, and stared across. The rain wasn’t falling as heavily, and the visibility had increased to about two hundred meters by then. Through the storm, Rade could see the devastation that had been inflicted upon the school.

One of the tornadoes had struck the plaster-walled building, essentially cutting it in half.

All was lost.

His son would die.

nineteen

Rade didn’t know what to do.

There was a small hope that the field hospital was still intact on the beach, but he wasn’t sure his son would survive the journey all the way back there.

He glanced at the overhead map. He still saw several blue dots active within the school, so that meant there had to be some surgeons or Weavers that had survived the tornado impact. Perhaps he didn’t have to give the order to retreat after all...

“The field hospital was situated on the southern side of the school,” Tahoe said. “Which is still intact.”

That told Rade everything he needed to know.

See, it’s not the end, he scolded himself. It’s never the end. There’s always hope.

“What about the snipers and heavy gunners the lieutenant promised us?” Rade asked.

“Check the map,” Tahoe said. “You can see the extra units on the intact areas of the rooftop. The lieutenant has lived up to his end of the bargain. I’ve notified them to begin laying down covering fire.”

Rade rotated the map to an isometric angle and realized that several of the blue dots he had initially assumed to be inside the school were actually on top, positioned over the intact portions of the ceramic-tiled rooftop. 

“Scan the park,” Rade said. “Let’s clear any targets that might get in our way.”

Rade swept his scope over the park, aiming for the red dots that the rooftop snipers had already marked out for them on the map: tangos entrenched within various hides. Tahoe managed to score an eye shot on a clone, and Rade got a scorpion that was crouched behind a ruined fountain. His first few shots were to the rear of the unit, and when it turned around he aimed his scope between the eyes and took down the scorpion.

The other Argonauts terminated three other units that were similarly dug in behind benches and trees in the park.

“Well, that gives us a path at least,” Lui said.

“There’s enough wreckage and debris to provide cover all the way to the school,” Manic said. “We can make it.”

Rade gave the park one last sweep with his scope, searching for any close-by tangos that had evaded their notice, then he gave the order to proceed.

“Tangos have arrived at our six!” Lui said.

On the overhead map, Rade saw the red dots that began to appear behind the team.

“Pick it up, Argonauts!” Rade said.

The team members moved from cover to cover in twos and threes. Rade went with Shaw and Cora. Harlequin followed with Shaw’s parents. On drag was Tahoe with Algorithm and Brat; the three of them fired at the rearmost tangos as they retreated, as did the snipers and heavy gunners on the rooftop ahead.

Rade darted across the park in spurts: he weaved behind the bole of a tree, then a crumbled monument, then the wreckage of a gunship, and then the body of a laser-riddled scorpion. His feet finally touched pavement, and he neared the open double doors that led into the school. Two Gendarme Centurions stood on either side, firing at the tangos that pursued.

“Allez!” one of the Centurions said. Come on.

Rade raced into the hall inside. Shaw shoved past him, addressing another Centurion guarding the entrance just inside.

“The Weavers, where are they?” Shaw asked.

“I’ve marked the location on your maps,” the Centurion said.

Rade received a data marker request and accepted. The blueprints of the school filled out, and the Weavers were indicated as bright green dots amid the blue of the other friendlies.

Rade waited for Shaw’s parents to arrive with Harlequin, not wanting to leave behind Sil, then he hurried after Shaw and Cora.

“Harlequin, stay here,” Rade shouted back. “Make sure the others arrive safely. I’ll meet you in the field hospital.”

Rade followed Shaw through the halls of the school, barely seeing. Gendarme troops occasionally rushed past to reinforce a given area. The building shook as the enemy lobbed grenades or other missiles at them—likely a result of mechs or other units converted to their side thanks to the particle beams.

Rade reached the gymnasium, which acted as the field hospital. Shaw had given Alex over to one of the Weavers, and when Rade arrived the robot surgeon was in the process of injecting a blood volumizer to stabilize the boy.

Rade sat against the wall of the gymnasium, off to one side, waiting with Shaw’s parents. The other Argonauts arrived and collapsed next to Rade, exhausted. Tahoe made a food run, and when he returned the team dined in silence. Rade didn’t eat. He couldn’t.

Mr. Chopra removed Sil’s aReal goggles and he fed her. Sil seemed unconcerned with the change in scenery, and hungrily devoured the creamy broth Mr. Chopra gave her. When she was finished, he took her away for a toilet break, escorted by Dora.

“Requesting permission to join the defense,” Lui said after finishing his chicken dish. The gym rumbled ominously as the school took an impact.

Rade nodded absently. “Anyone who wants to fight, you may go.”

Nearly all of the human and Centurion members of the Argonauts departed. Cora and Dora remained behind to watch over Shaw’s parents and Sil, while Fret and Tahoe stayed to accompany Rade, apparently wanting to comfort him while he waited for the verdict. Shaw stayed next to Alex, of course.

After the team members departed, Rade stared at the Weaver for several moments, watching it work, but then he zoned out completely. He felt completely, utterly exhausted. He simply stared straight ahead, unblinking. He didn’t even need a noise canceler. The sights and sounds of the world simply faded.

“Rade,” a voice said.

Rade blinked.

“Rade,” it repeated.

He realized the voice belonged to Tahoe.

Unsure where he was for a moment, Rade glanced uncertainly at his friend.

“The Weaver wants to talk to you,” Tahoe said.

Rade blinked again, then cast his gaze across his surroundings. Gurneys. Weavers. Surgeons. Patients. The smell of blood, sweat, and piss; the cloying scent of antiseptic and bioprinted limbs. The beep beep of heart rate monitors. The whoosh of ventilators. The moan of patients. The whir of servomotors emanating from Weavers at work.

And then he remembered.

My son.

A gut-wrenching anguish overcame him. He bent over and vomited.

“Rade!” Tahoe said. “Are you all right?”

Rade lifted a hand, waving Tahoe off, and then struggled to his feet. He took one unsteady step. Then another. His target was Shaw, who sat next to the Weaver. His gait became firmer with each step.

He halted beside her. Shaw was combing Alex’s hair. The boy remained unconscious on a small table. Shaw didn’t look up at Rade. There was nothing else in the world for her in that moment but her son.

Several of the Weaver’s telescoping limbs were embedded in the stump of Alex’s arm, emulating blood vessels, judging from the flow of sanguine fluid that passed to and fro the translucent tubes.

Mr. and Mrs. Chopra joined him, leaving Sil in the care of Cora.

Rade waited for several moments, and then finally the Weaver addressed him.

“I’ve stabilized him,” the Weaver said. “Alex is a strong boy. He will pull through.”

“Did you detect signs of nano-machines anywhere else in his body?” Rade asked. “Perhaps hidden in the brain?”

“No,” the Weaver said. “It seems your quick thinking saved the boy from any further contamination by the alien machines.”

Rade remembered how his former team member Keelhaul had become infected. The nano-machines had seemed to congregate in his Implant, so the doctors removed it, declaring him cured. But they had missed a few that lay dormant in his brain, and the nano-machines simply reactivated at a later date, multiplying, taking over.

Rade hoped there were none lying dormant in Alex.

“What about his arm?” Rade asked.

“I am preparing the bioprinting materials at this very moment,” the Weaver said. “I will have a new arm attached within the hour.”

“Thank you,” Rade said.

“I will notify you when the process is complete,” the Weaver said.

Rade nodded slowly, and then returned to his place by the wall.

In moments he had zoned out once again.

Tahoe shook him out of his stupor once more.

“The robot is asking for you again,” Tahoe told him. “I think the operation is finished.”

Rade glanced at his internal clock. It was nearly two hours later.

He scrambled to his feet and noticed that the rest of the team had returned: they were spread out along the wall, watching the events unfold.

Bender stood up. “Can I join you?”

Rade nodded. “How goes the fighting?”

“We repelled the enemy,” Bender said. “We won. At least for the time being.”

“And the storm?” Rade asked.

“Completely gone,” Bender replied.

Shaw’s parents joined Rade without asking, of course. Rade allowed the others to access his audio and visual feeds so that they could hear the Weaver’s prognosis firsthand as well.

Rade went to the table that held his son. His precious boy.

Alex was still unconscious, but his right arm was completely restored. Shaw gripped his left hand tightly, and she finally looked up when Rade neared. The reproach had lessened in her eyes. When she saw her parents, she got up and gave them each a hug.

“I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Chopra told her daughter.

“Don’t be,” Shaw said. “Alex is on the mend.”

“He’s not awake?” Rade asked the Weaver.

“I’ve forced a coma for the time being,” the Weaver said. “Alex will require a neural adaptation period as his mind learns to connect with the new nerve endings. He will have limited mobility until then.”

“How long will that take?” Rade asked.

“Neural adaptation occurs very rapidly in the young,” the Weaver explained. “Their brains learn quickly, and don’t require the usual neural accelerants necessary for older individuals. I expect the recovery to take anywhere from six hours to a day. The limb will grow as Alex grows, just like an ordinary arm. The muscles will also develop when stimulated, and the bone marrow will thicken. However, the limb may need to be replaced as the body matures, as there is a chance it will not grow at the same rate as the rest of the body.”

Rade reached toward the limb, but hesitated before his fingers touched. He wasn’t sure he wanted to feel his son’s new arm. Didn’t want to sense the change in texture, a reminder that the limb was bioprinted.

Finally he forced his fingers forward and ran them along the surface. The skin felt like corrugated cardboard, and was very cold to the touch.

Rade was quiet for several moments. When he spoke, his voice was not gentle.

“The enemy can attack me all they want,” Rade said. “They can even clone me, and send those clones in to shoot at me. That’s fine. But attack my kids? Force me to amputate my son’s arm, nearly killing him? These assholes are going to pay for what they’ve done. They’re going to pay big time.”

He glanced at Bender, who wore a grim expression.

“No one harms our kids,” Bender agreed. “We’re going to hunt down these bugs to the ends of the Earth. We’ll leave no stone unturned. No cave unexplored. Then we’ll board their mothership and squash any remaining bugs from the inside out.”

“We’re going to need some mechs...” Rade said.

twenty

Rade had the Weaver attend to the wounds of the other Argonauts while he waited for Alex to adapt. Of them, Tahoe had the worst injury: a punctured lung, caused by a laser strike from one of the scorpions. The laser had cauterized the entry and exit wounds, so Tahoe didn’t have a sucking wound, however he still had a build up of blood in that lung, which had slowly choked off his oxygen capacity. 

When Alex and the others had fully recovered several hours later, Rade gathered the team, the children, and Shaw’s parents, and headed through the rubble toward the outskirts of town. The jeep and SUV had been destroyed by tornadoes in the last storm, but TJ reached out over the Internet and found several vehicles residing on farms and villas nearby. TJ was able to hack into the remote interfaces of three of them, and programmed the vehicles to pick up the team. An hour later, the merry band of humans, robots, and children was on the road, packed into two cars and a pickup truck. Rade received a surprise voice-only call request from Surus, and had a long, elucidating talk with the alien.

Shortly thereafter the vehicles reached the estate where Tahoe had left his wife and children with two Centurions. It was an abandoned farm that had seen a tornado cut through its fields, judging from the runnel that cleaved the land in two. Thankfully the chateau and outbuildings remained intact.

Tepin emerged from the main country house and gave Tahoe a long hug when he arrived, and then embraced Shaw. She nodded genially toward the rest of the team.

Rade entered the house with Tahoe. Lowering his voice, he told his friend: “I’m not sure the families should stay here. You saw how close that tornado came to the country house...”

“You really think any other estate will be any safer?” Tahoe said. “Or the city?”

“No, I suppose not,” Rade said.

“You must trust in the resilience of our families to protect themselves,” Tahoe said. “We will give them our best Centurions.”

Rade just hoped it would be enough.

After dinner, Rade convened a meeting of the Argonauts in the lounge. He invited Shaw as well, but not her parents.

“As you all know, I’ve decided to take the fight against the enemy,” Rade said. “And the first order of business is to secure some mechs for the team.”

“Mechs won’t help all that much if they’re hit by those particle beams,” Fret said. “You know, the ones that cover you in black veins and convert your unit over to the enemy?”

“I fielded a call from Surus during the trip here,” Rade said. “She might have a way to help on that front.”

“Really?” Bender said. “How?”

“She didn’t make it clear,” Rade said. “But she promised to update me once I had procured some mechs.”

“That still begs the question, where exactly are we going to get the mechs from?” Lui asked.

“We have Hoplites aboard the Argonaut...” Manic said.

“But we can’t get to them,” Lui replied. “In fact, we don’t even know if the spaceport holding the Argonaut even exists anymore. All space-based networks are down.”

“Maybe we won’t need to get to the Argonaut,” Rade said. “TJ has been in touch with one of his local hacker friends.” Rade glanced at the man.

“That’s right,” TJ said. “Trickydick tells me—”

“Trickydick?” Manic said. “You’re friend’s name is Trickydick?”

“That’s his hacker alias,” TJ said.

“That’s almost as bad as Bender’s,” Manic said. “What was his again? Pussy something? Pussywillow. Really a name to inspire fear in the hearts of men.”

“Dude, you just don’t get it,” Bender told Manic. “It’s not about inspiring fear. A hacker’s alias is meant to show his or her disregard for authority. We have our own unique culture that runs counter to the mainstream. The alias shows we couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the standard naming conventions the rest of society uses. I could call myself Pussy of Doom and I would still be revered and feared among other hackers, not because of the name, but because of the actions associated with that name.”

“Pussy of Doom kind of suits you,” Manic said.

“As I was saying,” TJ continued. “Trickydick has shared the location of a military installation eighty kilometers to the north, in an out-of-the-way area. It’s mostly a storage facility. He tells me there are several older-style mechs housed in one of the base warehouses. Along with the associated booster rockets we’d need to take them into orbit.

“I contacted our lieutenant friend in the Gendarme, and he reached out to his superiors and confirmed that yes, the installation contains mechs. Bastille told me there is a fueling depot near the installation, so we can ensure the rockets are topped up. Bastille also managed to snag the provisioning codes, which he gave me, so we’ll be able to take control of the mechs. I’ll have to plug into each mech directly, of course.” Remote provisioning would be disabled by default—a security precaution.

“Did Bastille warn the installation that we would be coming?” Tahoe asked. “Or get his superiors to do so, at the very least?”

“Therein lies the crux,” TJ said. “The base personnel were recalled to deal with events in Marseille. Before they left, they set the installation to run in autonomous mode. They locked it at Defense Level III.” That was the highest possible defense level. “And since neither the lieutenant nor his superiors were able to reach the officers who were in command, we’ll have to wait a few days until they can send another officer to the installation to unlock it.”

“Can’t they remotely unlock it?” Fret asked.

“No,” TJ said. “The personnel specifically programmed the installation to deny all remote unlock requests.”

“Given the worsening situation in the country,” Harlequin said. “Not to mention the planet, I don’t think they’re going to spare any personnel to come down here to unlock one installation for a few ex-MOTHs.”

“No,” Rade said. “We’re going to have to deal with the installation’s defenses ourselves.”

“What kind of defenses are we talking about?” Fret said. “Considering that all we have are rifles...”

“Oh, you know,” TJ said. “A couple of walkers, maybe some laser turrets. The usual.”

“That’ll be a breeze,” Bender said.

“Famous last words,” Fret said.

RADE STARED AT the twins, who lay asleep in their mini sleeping bags. Shaw had placed them in the bedroom she planned to use for herself, next to the bed. Cora and Dora were to remain in the adjacent hallway, on call at all hours.

Shaw stood beside him, gazing at their children.

“It never ceases to amaze me that I’m a father,” he said, softly. “I can’t believe it’s been two years. They’ve grown so much. And still have so much more to grow. They’re so young. So innocent. I just want to protect them from all the evils of the world.”

“They were innocent,” Shaw said. “At least until what happened.”

Rade didn’t answer. He gazed at Alex’s right arm. It looked indistinguishable from his left, and the boy had retained full mobility in the limb, but that didn’t change the fact of what had happened. He just hoped Alex wasn’t traumatized. Then again, it had all happened so fast, the boy probably had no idea he had even lost the arm. Rade hoped so, anyway.

He grabbed Shaw by the hand and led her outside into the hall. Cora and Dora were waiting, so he took her to the bathroom and shut the door. He wanted some private time with her. 

“Won’t you come with me?” Rade said.

Shaw shook her head and lowered her gaze. “I have to protect the kids. The Earth is under attack. A twister could come at any time. Or the invaders themselves. My most important duty is right here. This is where I will make my fight. I realize that now, after what happened to Alex. I should have never let Cora take him behind that pillar. I should have kept him under guard at all times. Same with Sil.”

“If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” Rade said.

She didn’t agree or disagree. Nor did she meet his eyes.

“You hate me, don’t you?” Rade said.

Shaw sighed. “How could I hate the father of my children? I know you did what you had to back there. You had more courage than I. In fact, the anger you saw in me, well, it was more due to my own inaction than anything else. If you hadn’t acted when you did...” She shook her head. “I would have let Alex die. I didn’t have the heart, or the will, to do what was needed to save him. Cutting off the arm of my own child, it’s just not something I’m capable of. I don’t have the mettle for it. It took a warrior like you, inured to the horrors of war, the atrocities of combat, to commit such a deed. Perhaps if I was a stronger woman I could have done it.”

Rade slid a finger under her chin and forced her head upward so that she looked at him. “You are strong.”

“No Rade,” she said. “We’ve discussed this many times. If hanging around a team of ex-MOTHs has taught me anything, it’s that I’m not strong. At least, not in matters involving war and death. Sure, I can put on a jumpsuit and pilot a mech, and then I become just as capable physically as the rest of you. And I can put on a good act, killing with the best of you. But inside, I just don’t have that warrior nature. I’m a nurturer at heart. Not a killer. Whenever I cause a death, even if it’s among a member of an alien race, I feel guilt. And a part of me shrivels up inside.”

“We all feel some guilt after we kill, when the bloodlust fades,” Rade said. “Even me. Especially me. I thought you would have figured that out by now. Don’t you remember when the kids were born, I told you that it was about time I created life in this universe; to make up for all the death I caused?”

“But you’re better at compartmentalizing that guilt than me,” Shaw said. “You must be. You have to be, after what you did to Alex. Because if he had died from the wound you caused...”

“Then I would have never forgiven myself,” Rade said. “No, Shaw, I’m not better at compartmentalizing the guilt. But let’s be honest here. After Alex was hit... I bet you stopped feeling any remorse about mowing down those aliens. I saw you hold Alex close during some of the firefights, so that you could lift your rifle and join in the fighting. And I saw the gleam in your eyes when you squeezed the trigger. You were enjoying it, weren’t you? Especially when you were firing at those clones. Pretending you were shooting at me.”

Shaw’s expression hardened and her eyes momentarily glinted. “I did enjoy it. Targeting those clones truly felt like I was shooting you, and paying you back for what you did to Alex. I was so angry.” She slumped slightly, and sighed. “But as we fled, my anger against you faded, because I realized you did the right thing. I saw that blackened arm. Our son would be dead right now if you hadn’t acted. Or he would be one of them. So I channeled my anger against the invaders instead.”

“But you still enjoyed it?” Rade said. “Killing them? And you felt no guilt?”

“Yes,” Shaw admitted. “But that was different. That was vengeance. What is this, an interrogation?”

“No, but that brings me to the topic of the mission,” Rade said. “It’s all about vengeance. Come with me, and help me exact revenge for what they did to us. For attempting to kill our son.”

For a moment Rade thought he had her, then Shaw’s eyes softened, and she glanced longingly at the bedroom.

“No,” she said. “My place is here. I could not go with you, not when I was constantly worried about what might happen to them. Imagining all sorts of bad things.”

“And yet you have no such worries about me?” Rade asked.

“I have more worries about you than you’ll ever realize,” Shaw said. “But I know you can take care of yourself. The twins... they can’t.” She wrapped her hand around his. “Give them hell for me.”

Rade squeezed her hand. “I’m always torn, when it comes to you. I want you at my side, and yet I don’t want you to risk your life in the field. You’re a stronger person than I. Staying here, protecting the kids, while I go out to have my vengeance. That’s where the real strength of will is. Remaining behind, denying yourself vengeance, to protect those you love.”

Her chin jutted out with determination. “My vengeance is to ensure our children are never hurt by these invaders again. That’s my revenge. But stop trying to make me feel better. I know who the stronger of us is.”

Rade smiled sadly. “So I guess this is farewell.”

She released his hand and looked away. “I guess so. Go, before I change my mind.”

Rade went to the bathroom door and opened it. He glanced at her one last time and then stepped into the hall.

“Rade,” Shaw said.

He turned around in time to open his arms as she threw herself at him. She tucked her head into his chest and wept.

“It’s okay,” Rade said, running his fingers down her hair. “It’s okay.” Watching a woman cry, especially when that woman was his, was simply the worst feeling in the world. It invoked his own nurturing instincts: he just wanted to shelter her and protect her from the rest of the galaxy.

“No it’s not okay,” Shaw sobbed. “It never will be okay. This invasion... so many people have died. Why are the Mahasattva doing this? Why?”

Rade didn’t answer her. He knew she didn’t want words. She only wanted him to hold her.

Finally she pushed herself away and rubbed the wetness from her cheeks. She looked at him with her red eyes and gave him a brave smile. “It’s time for me to suck it up. To stop overdramatizing.”

Rade merely smiled, saying nothing.

“You saved Alex,” Shaw said. “He has full functionality in his arm, even if it’s bioprinted. You asked me if I hate you? No, I don’t. I can’t hate you. I love you more than anything in this universe, Rade Galaal. More than life itself. But if you die out there, that’s when I’ll hate you. That’s when I’ll never forgive you. Don’t you dare deprive your kids of their loving father. Don’t you dare leave me alone to raise these children by myself.”

Rade nodded grimly. He felt like he should say something, anything, but nothing came to him. He had no words for her.

He turned away and proceeded downstairs, where the Argonauts were waiting in the foyer of the country house. He said to them, rather gruffly: “Let’s go.”

Tepin gave Tahoe one last hug, and wished the men success. Rade noticed that Tahoe’s children weren’t present. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps they were angry with Tahoe for leaving them to go off to war once more. Or maybe they wanted to come along and fight with him. Rade had heard that his kids had been training with Skullcracker at some point, another ex-MOTH. Well, either way, Rade decided not to bother his friend about it. If Tahoe wanted to talk about it, he would bring it up. Otherwise, he was due at least some privacy.

Shaw’s parents stopped Rade at the door. Mr. Chopra pulled Rade off to one side and waited until the others had gone before speaking.

“Thank you for what you have done,” Mr. Chopra said. “Stay safe. For your children. For Shaw.”

Rade smiled briefly. “I will.”

Mr. Chopra shook his hand, as did Mrs. Chopra.

It was the closest to acceptance Rade had ever gotten from Shaw’s parents.

Rade strode through the door. He gazed into the field as he walked and caught a glimpse of the two Centurions Tahoe had dispatched to the estate to protect Tepin; the sun glinted from their burnished polycarbonate shells. Other humanoid farming robots were distributed along the estate perimeter, and inside the house.

When Rade was some distance from the country house he glanced back and saw Shaw standing in the bedroom window. She raised a hand and opened the fingers in goodbye. Her chin seemed to quiver behind the glass.

Rade waved back, then turned around and continued walking toward the vehicles.

He didn’t look back.

twenty-one

Rade sat in the passenger seat of the pickup truck as the three-vehicle convoy made its way toward the military installation. There was no sign of any enemy units overhead, or in the fields that bordered the rural road.

Tahoe sat in the driver’s seat, though he was not in control of the car, as there was no manual override. In the truck bed behind them, the Centurions had squeezed in.

“You could almost think we were winning,” Tahoe said. “When you look out at those fields. But then you turn on the news.”

“I dread to do it,” Rade said.

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s all fake,” Tahoe said. “A computer simulation put together by the invaders and transmitted over the main news feeds to fool us all. But then all I have to do is look at the photos and videos posted on the social networks.”

“Could be a botnet,” Rade said.

“Yes,” Tahoe said. “But then you have to consider the firsthand experiences we’ve had with these invaders.”

“That is definitely irrefutable,” Rade agreed. He paused. “As I said, I’ve been dreading to look at the news. What’s the latest on Marseille and Paris?”

“Paris has officially surrendered,” Tahoe said. “The government offices are surrounded by scorpions and other converted units. The people have been ordered to remain indoors until further notice. It’s a 24/7 curfew. Marseille still stands, though I’m not sure for how much longer. The city has been almost entirely reduced to rubble. Capitals around the world are facing similar dire straits.”

“So essentially you’re saying, it’s too late,” Rade told Tahoe. “And that we might as well give up.”

“It’s never too late,” Tahoe said. “I still believe, firmly in my heart, that one man, or a group of men, can make a difference in any war.”

“I used to think so, too,” Rade said. “Until the Second Alien War.”

Tahoe nodded. “All we did in that war was survive. We didn’t really make much difference at all, did we? We were victims of circumstance, tossed about the seas of fate at the universe’s whim. But wait a second, if you don’t think we can make a difference, then what are we doing out here?”

“Obviously I believe we can,” Rade said. “Especially if Surus can find a way to even the odds.”

“What exactly is she planning to do, anyway?” Tahoe asked. “She has armor upgrades for us?”

“I’m not sure yet, as I haven’t heard back from her,” Rade said. “I’ve tried tapping in, but she hasn’t answered.”

“What if she’s been captured, or otherwise disabled?” Tahoe asked.

“That’s certainly a possibility,” Rade said.

“But what does that mean for us?” Tahoe pressed.

“I don’t know,” Rade said. “We have to focus on the attainable goals at the moment. If we don’t, we’ll feel overwhelmed and helpless. We can obtain mechs. So we will.”

When the convoy was within a kilometer of the installation, Rade gave the order to halt.

The three vehicles stopped on the shoulder of the road.

“We continue on foot,” Rade said. “Into the shrubs.”

Rade lowered the laser rifle from his shoulder and held it in hand, muzzle pointed at the ground. He kept the particle beam weapon slung to his opposite shoulder.

He stepped into the greenery that composed the French countryside there, which included oak, beech, and plane trees, as well as several species of bushes.

“Shouldn’t we be trying to find a way off this planet?” Fret said. “If Earth is truly lost?”

“Who says Earth is lost?” Manic said.

“Haven’t you been watching the news networks?” Fret said.

“Ah,” Manic said. “You mean of course the opinion networks? Because that crap ain’t news.”

“No, it’s news,” Lui said. “Because the fact is, most of the world has fallen. The thing is, if we get these mechs, and the booster rockets, it’s not for nothing. Because even if the world falls, we’ll have a way off the planet.”

“Yeah but, shouldn’t we be looking for something that has a bit more range, and can hold more people, like a shuttle or something?” Fret said. “Unless you plan to carry Shaw’s parents and Tahoe’s family into orbit while they’re strapped into the passenger seats of mechs? Then they’ll need jumpsuits, too, of course.”

“I heard that the Mahasattva were shooting evacuation craft out of the sky,” Manic said.

“I never heard that,” TJ said.

“It’s true,” Manic said. “At least for those ships that attempt to orbit in the same hemisphere as the mothership.”

“So basically,” Fret chimed in. “You’re saying that if we get these booster rockets and want to approach the mothership for any sort of boarding operation, like the boss is probably planning, then we’ll be shot out of the sky?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Manic said.

“Why does fetching the mechs seem like less and less of an urgency with each passing moment?” Fret said.

“Tell me something,” Bender said. “Do you want to face these invaders as you are? Or inside a battle suit capable of razing a small city?”

“Well, of course inside a battle suit,” Fret said.

“Then shut the hell up,” Bender said.

The party proceeded through the undergrowth in silence for a few minutes.

“So TJ, bro,” Manic said. “You mentioned this installation harbors outdated models of mechs. What sort of models are we talking about?”

TJ had already told Rade, of course, but apparently hadn’t shared the knowledge with the rest of the team yet.

“They’ve been out of service for about fifteen years,” TJ said. “But I think you’ll love them. ATLAS units.”

“ATLAS?” Manic said. “I hate those. Sure, they’re retro and all that, but come on, you mean we have to go back to projectile weapons? I can’t see myself giving up lasers for Gats.”

“These are ATLAS 5 CF’s,” TJ said. “Retrofitted with lasers, so there are no projectiles. The Iron Triangle of Combat Vehicle Development ruled out most projectile weapons years ago.”

“What’s this iron triangle?” Fret asked.

“The balancing act of lethality, mobility, and protection,” TJ said. “Engineer speak. Basically, lugging around tons of ammo reduced the mobility of the mechs, and required the hulls to be protected by less armor. By switching to lasers, we get to keep our lethality, while improving the other two factors. Of course, lasers have other problems, in terms of cooling and power, but I won’t get into that.”

“Ah,” Fret said. “I keep forgetting, you’re the nerd with the muscles and tattoos.”

“And all the women,” TJ said.

“No one’s got more women than me,” Bender said.

“Look at these guys,” Lui said. “Bragging about their harem size.”

“Well at least it’s better than the bragging you do,” Bender said. “When we go to the buffet, you’re always talking about your plate. ‘Look at how much bigger my plate is than yours! Ooo, I can stuff my stomach with the most food. I win! I’m a hippopotamus!’ With the emphasis on the hippo!”

“At least I get my money’s worth at the buffet,” Lui said.

“Oh I get my money’s worth, too, don’t you worry,” Bender said.

“Did you just call yourself a hippo?” Manic said.

“Try listening sometime,” Bender said. “I know, it’s an acquired skill, but if you concentrate you can do it. I know you can. Because I was referring to Lui.”

“Pussy buffet?” Harlequin asked.

“What the hell, AI!” Bender said. “Keep your senseless comments to yourself. What do you know about pussy and buffets anyway? You can’t partake in either of them.”

“Actually, I can,” Harlequin said.

“Yes yes, you’re fully anatomically functional, I know,” Bender said.

“Just before the invasion, we went to the strip club, do you remember?” Harlequin said. “I joined you. You pushed me to sit in the front row, and then made a comment to TJ about how the joint was such a pussy buffet, even I could get some.”

“Ah, damn it, Harley boy, that has nothing to do with what we were just talking about,” Bender said. “I specifically said food, just now. A food buffet. Not pussy.”

“Oh,” Harlequin said. “I suppose I was trying to break the tension with what you humans call a ‘little nonsensical humor.’”

“Well stop trying,” Bender said. “AIs aren’t capable of humor. They might believe they are, but they’re really not. Especially you. The only time you’re funny is when your punching bag of a face is on the receiving end of my manly fist.”

“His manly fist,” Manic said. “Ooo, you’re so manly, Bender.”

“I meant manly as in human,” Bender said. “You know, human versus machine. Ah, never mind!”

“We’re almost at the end of the tree coverage,” Rade said. “Let’s get some quiet, please.”

The tree line ended about three hundred meters from the southern outskirts of the installation, and a well-maintained lawn covered the grounds the rest of the way to the chain-link fence that enclosed the low-slung buildings. That was typical of installation design, with clear approaches desired on all sides. Though usually the clearance should have been at least a kilometer. He supposed the Franco-Italians simply did things differently. Then again, given the accuracy and range of laser weapons these days, one kilometer clearance wasn’t all that much better than three hundred meters. Plus there were likely advance sensors and cameras hidden along the approach from the main road, and in the surrounding foliage.

As such, the installation most likely knew they were coming already. Though as of yet, it didn’t know their intention. Rade was sure the base AI had guessed, given how his team was outfitted, but the AI likely wouldn’t attack until Rade made the first aggressive move.

Rade gazed at the chain link fence. It was electrified, according to the documents TJ had obtained. Topped by razor wire. Motion-sensing laser turrets lining the rooftops just inside would track any objects that passed over or through the fence, and take them down. Those turrets were equipped with a modicum of artificial intelligence, enough to visually distinguish a non-threat such as a bird from an actual threat such as an individual in a jetpack thrusting over.

“I count five tracking turrets on this side,” Tahoe said.

Those turrets could detect the source of any laser attacks, so the team would have to bring them down at nearly the same time, at least those in the line of sight on this side of the installation. If they missed even one of them, the lasers would home in on their positions in the foliage and fire.

“I can confirm that number,” Harlequin said. “Each turret contains four cobras.”

At eight humans and eight Centurions, that left four cobras unaccounted for in the first volley.

“TJ, allocate the targets,” Rade ordered. “I want one cobra per human rifle, and two cobras per Centurion.” That meant four of the Centurions would target the same cobra twice. That was fine, as it never hurt to fire a second shot at the same target. He decided to build upon that idea: “In fact, lets assign two cobras per rifle across the board.”

Rade received his targeting vectors from TJ a moment later. On his vision, highlights appeared over the two rightmost cobras located in a turret near the center rooftop. He peered into his scope, and zoomed in on the first cobra, centering it between his crosshairs.

“Target acquired,” Rade said.

The names of the platoon members were stacked in a row on the left side of the HUD overlaying his vision, and he watched as green highlights appeared upon each of those names in turn as they acquired their own targets.

When there were greens across the board, Rade said: “Initiating countdown. Fire on green, and switch cover after the second shot.” The latter order was in case one of the cobras didn’t go down, or someone missed one. If that happened, they would have to reposition behind new hides as quickly as possible.

On his HUD, a timer appeared in the lower right, counting down from three thousand milliseconds. When it reached zero, a green circle appeared in the lower right of his vision.

He squeezed the trigger. Instantly the turret swiveled, obviously tracking the source of the lasers. He slid his aim down and to the right, over the updated position of the second cobra, and squeezed again.

Then he crawled away rapidly through the undergrowth.

“Missed one!” TJ said. “We’re taking incoming fire!”

Branches began to fall around Rade as the laser cut through the foliage. He dove behind a thick bole.

“Launch the decoy!” Rade shouted.

Harlequin threw a fist-sized rock toward the installation. Harlequin had borrowed Rade’s X72 to carve the rock into the shape of a grenade.

As the decoy arced high, on a course to easily skim over the fence and the rooftops within, Rade leaned past the tree trunk and targeted those turrets he could see through the foliage.

The turrets had immediately spun to track it. The AIs were momentarily fooled, but would revert their aim when they realized the rock wasn’t a threat. But in the meantime, Rade and the others had their opening.

It was impossible to tell which of the individual cobras on the turrets remained intact, so they would have to shoot them all again.

“Fire at the same targets!” Rade said.

He zoomed in on the first of his assigned cobras, which remained highlighted, and shot.

The turrets swiveled back toward the party, and Rade had to quickly recenter his reticle over the second cobra allocated to him. 

“All right, that did it,” TJ said. “All defensive turrets on this side of the installation are down.”

“Take down any camera domes you see,” Rade said.

He swung his aim over the installation, taking down the cameras along with the rest of the Argonauts.

When the team finished, Rade heard a heavy thudding sound in the distance.

“Got two walkers approaching the fence,” Tahoe said.

“Reposition!” Rade said.

He dove away from the tree, and low crawled as rapid laser fire cut through trees and branches behind him. He moved into a hollow in the ground, and waited.

The attack ceased.

“I’ve got one of the walkers in my sights,” Harlequin said. “I can hit its AI core.”

“Brat and I have the other,” Algorithm said. “Requesting permission to fire.”

“Take them out,” Rade said.

“Walker A down,” Harlequin said.

“Walker B down,” Algorithm added.

Rade heard the thudding again.

“More walkers are coming in,” Harlequin said. “Four in total. These ones are equipped with ballistic shields.”

“All right,” Rade said. “That’s our cue to retrograde. Move on to the next assault position.”

twenty-two

The Argonauts retreated into the foliage.

The walkers remained in place behind the fence, as expected. They fired into the foliage, targeting the last known positions of the Argonauts, and then simply stood there.

Rade was exploiting a flaw in their programming, or what he perceived as a flaw anyway: the walkers had strict orders to remain within the confines of the installation at all times. Otherwise, they would have readily vaulted over the chain-link fence and rushed the Argonauts.

The team began moving around to the eastern side of the installation.

“Got two drones,” Harlequin said.

Apparently not all units were programmed to stay inside the base after all.

“Grumpy and Humpty, track and eliminate,” Rade ordered.

The two Centurions stood up and aimed into the sky. A moment later Rade spotted two small objects spiraling downward, leaving a trail of smoke behind them.

“Drones terminated,” Grumpy said.

“Surprised they only had two of them,” Fret said. “Though I suppose the installation personnel probably took most of them when they left.”

“Or maybe not,” Bender said. “Those bitches are expensive.”

“What, two small drones like that?” Fret said. “I could buy some blueprints and get one 3D-printed for half what the boss pays us per month.”

“After all these years you still don’t understand how the military procurement process works,” Bender said. “The drone companies tack on a gun to a civilian drone, call it a military drone, and then charge ten times the original price. You’re paying for the word military. Hell, the company could leave off the gun, call it a military surveillance drone, and charge the same.”

“We should start a military drone company sometime,” Fret said.

“That’s boring,” Bender said. “How about I go kill bugs, and you stay here starting a drone company.”

“I just might do that,” Fret said. “Someday.”

“Someday,” Bender said. “Hmph.”

As the team moved through the shrubs, the walkers occasionally relocated within the installation, following the position of the party members as reported by whatever sensing devices were hidden in the foliage.

When the Argonauts reached the eastern flank, the team took out the cobras of the turrets exposed on that side in the same manner, as well as the camera domes. The platoon retreated as the walkers targeted them, and then Rade had the Argonauts relocate to the northern side. They repeated the process there, and again at the western flank of the installation, until all the rooftop tracking turrets and visible camera domes were offline.

The ballistically shielded walker units had gathered to the western side of course, and were waiting for Rade and the others to reveal their latest positions.

“All right, time to cut ourselves a route through the fence,” Rade said. “Tahoe, assign targets.”

Rade received several vertical highlight points located in a row along the chain link fence.

“Fire at will,” Rade said.

He aimed at the first of his highlight points, which targeted the lower portion of the diamond-shaped steel mesh in that area. He employed the help of the scope’s AI to provide aiming assistance, and then fired, shifting his aim in a slight sawing motion as he did so.

“Walkers are opening fire,” TJ said.

Those walkers would be firing randomly, since there were no impact sensors on the chain link fences, and there weren’t enough foliage sensors to determine their latest positions—otherwise the walkers would have fired at them before. Rade did his best to remain calm as branches fell around him, and he moved his aim on to the next highlight point, and the next, firing at each of them until he had pierced clean through all of his targets.

He decided to reposition, and when he was hidden behind a log, he aimed his scope at the electric fence and watched as a wide portion fell inward entirely, dragging down the razor wire with it. The team had carved two vertical lines, separated by two meters, through the individual mesh segments composing that portion of the fence and the razor wire above it. Since it wasn’t connected to the ground, the severed portion of the fence couldn’t support its own weight, and had toppled.

As expected, the walkers ignored the opening in the fence, once again proving that their programming prevented them from leaving the base. The units continued to fire for several moments, however. Like him, other team members had relocated, probably feeling just as uncomfortable as Rade about being on the receiving end of random, rapid-fire lasers.

“Are we detecting any hidden fencing fields?” Rade asked. Those were lasers that formed a secondary “fence” just inside such installations, and would cut down anyone who made it past the physical fence.

“No,” Lui said. “It looks like we have the electric fence, and that’s it.”

“All right Argonauts, stick to the foliage, and crawl around to the eastern side,” Rade said. “Draw off those walkers. TJ, Bender, stay with me.”

The rest of the team moved away; the hidden sensors in the foliage detected the motion, and the walkers repositioned at intervals along the inside of the chain link fence to follow the group. As suspected, those sensors weren’t fine-grained enough to recognize that three members of the party had remained behind. The sensors could only determine whether it was a big mass of people that were moving eastward, or a small mass, which is why Rade had chosen to send away nearly everyone.

When the rest of the party was in place, Rade glanced at TJ and Bender.

“Are you ready?” he asked the pair.

“Let’s go kick some robots in the balls!” Bender said.

TJ offered a more muted response. “I’m ready.”

Rade nodded. “Then let’s get this done. TJ, transmit the location of the mech warehouse.”

Rade accepted the data request and a building became highlighted on his overhead map.

“Let’s do this.” He scrambled to his feet and dashed onto the three hundred meter open area between the fence and the surrounding foliage.

“The walkers are turning around,” Algorithm announced.

Rade wanted to hit the gap first. Wanted to be the one to determine whether there was an undetected laser field just inside. But apparently Bender was of a like mind, because he raced Rade to the gap and managed to sprint through before him, taking a running leap over the toppled razor wire.

Bender’s body remained intact—he wasn’t cut in half. Rade and TJ followed close behind. Because of the wind rushing past his ears from the run, Rade didn’t hear the expected electrical crackle and hum as he passed the charged fence areas still intact on either side; he leaped over the fallen razor wire and proceeded deeper into the installation.

Rade glanced at his overhead map. Algorithm was moving southwest, shadowing the mechs from the outside of the installation, so that Rade’s display would update with their positions.

As he passed one of the low slung structures, Rade realized the walker units were about to round the bend, three buildings ahead.

“Cover!” Rade said before those units could spot them. He dove into a side road between two of the buildings with TJ, while Bender took the street on the opposite flank.

“Got some camera domes here,” Bender said. “Gone now.”

Rade could hear the thudding as the walkers came closer.

“I’ll lead these bitches away,” Bender said.

“That wasn’t the plan...” Rade said.

“Boss, I’ll be all right,” Bender said. “Get those mechs!”

Bender dashed away down the street, swerving out of view on the far side.

Rade glanced around the corner of the building and saw the four walkers turning away to follow Bender, whose yells Rade could hear from where he stood.

“Come on, you punk ass little bitches!” Bender shouted. “Are your hulls made of metal or toilet paper? All the better to wipe my asshole with!”

The walkers quickly vanished from view behind the low slung rectangular buildings.

“Let’s go!” Rade said.

He hurried forward with TJ, and approached the intersection the walkers had taken. He peered carefully past, but there were no signs of the walkers. Judging from Bender’s taunting shouts, they would be closer to the southern side of the installation by then.

Rade and TJ hurried across the base. Rade searched for camera domes as he went, but just because he didn’t see any, didn’t mean they weren’t there. Some of the walkers would no doubt be turning back to intercept him and TJ. They didn’t have much time.

Rade and TJ reached the target warehouse. A broad garage door lay closed in front of it.

TJ connected a wire to the access port and plugged it into a small bracelet attached to his wrist.

“I’m interfacing,” TJ said.

Rade spotted a walker rounding the bend nearby. He pulled TJ into the small alcove formed by the garage and the edge of the building, shoving himself and his friend out of view.

Then Rade dropped to one knee and leaned past to aim at the AI core of the incoming walker. Bore holes appeared along the edge of the building beside him as another walker stepped into view behind the first, and Rade was forced to pull back after releasing only one shot. The tip of his rifle had been blown off, rendering the weapon useless.

Rade tossed the weapon away. “TJ...”

“Almost got it,” TJ told him.

The loud thud-clang of the two walkers’ feet echoed from the asphalt as the large robots rapidly closed.

Rade realized TJ wasn’t going to make it in time.

He slid down the particle beam rifle from his opposite shoulder and dropped lower. Then he leaned out into the open and fired at the first walker’s center of mass.

The blow stunned the walker, as expected. The robot froze as black veins spidered outward across its chest piece. Rade ducked from view and waited.

He heard the rising clang as the remaining walker approached, and he was about to lean past and risk another shot when the noise abruptly ceased, as if the walker had halted. Then he heard a loud crash.

Rade slowly peered past the edge, rifle in hand, and saw that the second walker had toppled. The converted walker had evidently shot down the second. It had turned around, and was facing a third walker that had rounded the bend. They were firing at one another. Laser bore holes appeared in each of them as Rade watched.

“I knew this weapon would come in handy someday,” Rade said.

“I’m in,” TJ said.

The garage door swiveled open beside them.

Rade and TJ hurried inside.

Rade spotted eight ATLAS mechs. The hulls of the humanoid-shaped battle suits were dented and dirty. The heads were pinched compared to those found on Hoplite models. Upon the chest pieces, tiger claws had been spray-painted. The units were taller than Hoplites, and bulkier, with thick multi-pronged cobra lasers permanently attached to the right arms, and long ballistic shields to the left. He saw nozzles around the waist area denoting the Trench Coat anti-missile countermeasure systems.

“Guess the Franco-Italians don’t like swivel mounts,” Rade commented, regarding the lack of weapon diversity on the arms of the mechs.

“I was hoping for a few missile launchers,” TJ said. “But we have to be happy with what we got.”

TJ went to the closest ATLAS, climbed the rungs, and plugged in his wrist unit to the access port above the AI core. “Looks like they still have power. Or this one does, anyway. I’m provisioning it now.”

Rade took cover behind the large metal leg of a nearby mech, and aimed out at the open garage door, covering TJ.

If Bender was here, we could properly cover both sides of the entrance...

He glanced at his overhead map, but the red dots outside didn’t update—neither Algorithm nor the rest of the team members had a view of the walkers from their positions outside the installation.

“I’m in,” TJ said.

Rade glanced at the mech TJ was attached to. On the pinched head, a thin, glowing red line activated in the eye region, alongside the yellow glows representing the two cameras. And then the hatch covering the chest area fell open.

“It’s all yours,” TJ said.

Rade left his cover and clambered up the leg rungs, swinging into the cockpit.

The hatch shut, plunging him into darkness. The inner actuators cocooned his body, and then the camera feed from the head region linked to his Implant so that he viewed the world from the height of the mech.

“Welcome aboard, Rage,” the mech’s AI addressed him by his old callsign. “I am Hugo.”

“Call me boss,” Rade said.

“Yes, boss,” Hugo answered.

Rade took a step forward, then another, and the mech mimicked his motions. He felt powerful. Invincible.

TJ had already climbed up another mech and was provisioning the unit.

Rade approached the entrance in his ATLAS and carefully peered past. The two walkers he had seen fighting earlier had disabled one another; the converted unit lay toppled on the street, while the other walker was still standing, but obviously offline, judging from the smoke emerging from its many bore holes.

Bender came running into view.

A walker appeared behind him a moment later.

Rade instantly targeted its AI region with his cobra and fired.

The walker dropped, clattering to the pavement.

Bender came to a halt in front of Rade and stared up in awe at the ATLAS.

“Rade?” Bender said. “I’m in heaven! Where’s my mech? Where’s my mech!” He dashed inside the warehouse. “TJ, gimme my mech now damn it!”

A moment later Bender emerged in another ATLAS, and he took up a guard position beside Rade.

“Now we’re in fine bug hunting form,” Bender said.

“We are indeed,” Rade said, staring down the scope of his cobra and into the street beyond.

twenty-three

Rade ordered Hugo to guard the entrance with Bender, and then cracked open the hatch and climbed down. While TJ continued to work, Rade checked a storage closet in the warehouse and found eight matching Franco-Italian jumpsuits, complete with jetpacks.

After provisioning all of the ATLAS units, TJ focused on setting up the strength-enhancing jumpsuits; when TJ finished with each of them, Rade stowed the suits, “coolvent” undergarments, and jetpacks into the passenger seats of the mechs in turn. The inner actuators aboard the cockpits would adjust to the added bulk of the suits so that the Argonauts could pilot the mechs with or without the jumpsuits.

The items were heavy, so that by the time TJ handed him the last suit, Rade was panting loudly.

“What’s the matter?” TJ said. “Getting old?”

“You try hauling this crap into the passenger seats,” Rade said.

“Be glad to.” TJ snatched the jumpsuit and undergarment from him, collected a jetpack, and scrambled up the rungs of the last ATLAS unit to deposit the items in the passenger seat without breaking a sweat.

Rade shook his head.

I really am getting old. It might be time for some rejuvenation treatments.

He loaded back into Hugo’s cockpit, while TJ took a mech for himself. Rade assumed control of the AI cores of the remaining five and proceeded to clear the installation with the ATLAS units. None of the mechs had any ATLAS Support System drones aboard, which fulfilled the same role as HS3 scouts except that they could be launched and retrieved at will. The Support System drones had been phased out of later mech designs as they were considered an unnecessary waste of machine real estate, especially when HS3 units could simply accompany a mech party directly. Such drones would have been useful at the moment, however, considering the dearth of HS3s.

Rade searched some of the other warehouses, looking for other potential units that could aid their cause, such as Equestrians or gunships, but the installation personnel had cleaned the rest of the place out before leaving for Marseille. Thankfully he discovered the mech booster rockets sitting intact in a storage building on the southwest side of the outpost, and he instructed the mechs to pick up the bulky payloads.

Rade grabbed one of the devices himself, which looked like an oversized wraparound jetpack—two large cylindrical canisters attached to left and right armrests. There were four big limbs that arched outward from the center of the device like talons, which were meant to hook over the shoulders and under the legs of a mech for takeoff. 

Carrying the bulky booster rockets in their arms, Rade, TJ, Bender and the mechs rendezvoused with the rest of the team, who were still hiding in the shrubs past the perimeter. The human members loaded into the remaining ATLAS units—which had to lower the payloads so that the cockpit hatches could fall open—while the Centurions clambered into the passenger seats and seated themselves next to the empty jumpsuits and jetpacks.

Rade let Shaw know that he and the men were all right, then the team cut across the installation and took the country road leading away. They sprinted across the weathered asphalt, their top speed reduced by the weight of the booster rockets they bore. The road held up well to their passage—they didn’t leave any cracks or other potholes in their wake, at least none that Rade noticed.

Rade paused the team near the getaway vehicles to let the combat robots down. The Centurions loaded into the two cars and the pickup and the party proceeded on its way.

The convoy would have certainly made an interesting sight to nearby locals, if any watched from the farms, vineyards, and villas that bordered the road. Seeing these war machines parade down the country road at a sprint, carrying booster rockets, and led by a pickup and two cars, well, it wasn’t something that happened every day. Then again, neither did alien invasions.

The team reached the landing platform that served as a fueling station for aircraft in the immediate area. TJ checked the station fuel levels, and confirmed that there was ample supply left. The valves were compatible with the booster rockets, so the team members hooked up the payloads and began refueling. None of the Argonauts had to leave their mechs the whole time.

“By the way, boss, that’s a mighty fine ass you got there,” Bender said while waiting for the boosters to top up.

“Why thank you,” Rade said. “If you want, I can arrange a date between the AI and yourself later?”

“I’d take you up on the offer,” Bender said. “But I got a date with Surus lined up after the mission is done.”

“Oh ho!” Fret said. “Does Surus know about this date?”

“Nope,” Bender answered. “But we all know she won’t be able to resist me when we’re reunited.”

“She’s resisted you for the past two years...” Manic said.

“Oh I know,” Bender said. “She’s gonna crack soon. Mark my words. She’s going to sleep with me, if only to get rid of me. Long game, bro. Long game.”

“Interesting strategy,” Fret said. “Keep harassing the woman until she sleeps with you. That’s gotta be illegal or something.”

“Except the woman in question isn’t a woman,” Lui said. “But an Artificial.”

“There are laws protecting Artificials, too, you know,” Fret said.

“It’s not harassing!” Bender said. “Not if the woman likes it. Come on, don’t tell me Surus doesn’t relish the attention. She wouldn’t have chosen such a foxy face and body for herself otherwise.”

“Also, as if Surus needs any protection from laws or otherwise,” TJ said. “In Phant form, she can easily incinerate Bender. And while possessing her Artificial body, she’s ten times as strong as an ordinary human. She’s hardly a delicate little flower.”

“Exactly,” Bender said. “She can defend herself. So stop trying to be her white knight.”

“Hey, I have to defend Surus,” Fret said. “Because she’s not here to defend herself! But speaking of Surus, have you heard from her yet, boss? You said she had a way to help us.”

“I haven’t heard from her, no,” Rade said. “I’ll try tapping her in again now.”

Rade tried. He received no response. “No answer.”

“Maybe the net is down where she is?” Manic said.

Rade checked the Internet uptime website.

“According to this, China and France are still fully connected to the Internet backbone,” Rade said. “So she still should be capable of answering.”

“And yet she refuses to accept your tap in request...” Harlequin said.

“Yes,” Rade said.

“So what’s the plan now?” Tahoe said. “We have booster rockets. Are we going to attempt an assault on the mothership?”

“No,” Rade said. “We can’t risk that. Not yet. We’ll store the rockets at the estate with Tepin and Shaw; those payloads will function essentially as our reserves, in case we need to use the rockets to evacuate the planet at some point. After we deposit the rockets at the estate, we’ll join the defense of Marseille, and do what we can to save the city. And try our best not to lose our mechs.”

“I’d hate to lose my mech so soon after acquiring it,” Harlequin said.

“We all would,” Rade said. “But we can’t just sit back and let the city fall. Not when we have war machines like ATLAS mechs in our possession.”

“We shouldn’t return to the estate where Tepin and Shaw are hiding,” Tahoe said. “In case the mothership is watching. The invaders probably have AIs constantly poring over the satellite imagery. A couple of civilian vehicles, they’re not going to care so much about. But several repositioning war machines? That could draw their attention. We don’t want to lead them to our families.”

“That’s a good point,” Rade said. “It’s probably safest, at least for our families, if we avoid returning to the estate. We’ll stop at the next suitable villa and offload our rockets there. We’ll spend the night, and head for Marseille in the morning.”

“What if the invaders decide to attack Tepin’s estate while we’re gone?” Fret said. “Then one could argue that it would be safest if we did return.”

“They won’t attack them,” Rade said, though it was hard to hide the doubt from his voice. He hoped the enemy would not attack. Prayed.

“All right, but what if they decide to assault us, then?” Fret said.

“Us, I’m not so worried about,” Rade said.

They finished topping up the rockets and then proceeded onto the road once more. Rade was careful to use the cover of roadside trees to mask their advance, and finally ordered a stop at a suitable estate fifteen kilometers to the south.

The team stowed the rockets in a barn. They dropped off their mechs in a spacious Quonset, and then found rooms for themselves in the abandoned chateau. The farm showed signs of attack, and Rade guessed that the occupants had either been killed or converted.

Rade ordered four Centurions out into the field to watch each corner of the estate, since there didn’t seem to be a security camera system in place. He bid the remaining Centurions to keep watch inside the house, upstairs and downstairs, near the windows, and put TJ in charge of them. He also commanded the ATLAS units to stand guard within the Quonset.

When he was satisfied that all of the AIs were on high alert and maintaining a proper vigil of the estate, Rade gave the order for the team to raid the pantry. They dined on a luxurious meal of canned beans.

When they were finished, Rade instructed the rest of the Argonauts to rack out.

Rade didn’t go to sleep immediately, however. Instead he lingered in the kitchen. There was someone he wanted to talk to, first.

twenty-four

He chose Shaw’s ID from his contact list and initiated a video call. Her hologram appeared in front of him a moment later. It looked like she was lying on a bed, judging from her posture, and the partial representation of the comforter that appeared underneath her. She was leaning up on one elbow.

“Hey,” she said sleepily.

“Come on, give me those dimples,” Rade said. “You can do it if you put your mind to it.”

Shaw forced a smile, and her cheeks dimpled.

“There we go,” Rade said. “That’s the Shaw I know.”

She nodded wearily, the smile quickly vanishing. There wasn’t much to smile about lately, he supposed.

“Any trouble at the estate?” Rade asked.

“No,” Shaw said. “It’s been dead quiet here. Have you seen the news? Marseille has fallen.”

“Oh,” Rade said, unable to hide his shock. “I didn’t know that.”

“It won’t be long now,” Shaw said. “We’re going to have to seriously consider leaving the planet. As much as I hate the thought.”

“But the Earth can’t fall,” Rade said. “It’s never fallen.”

“We never faced alien enemies of this power before,” Shaw said. “Enemies that were able to sneak all the way to our doorstep before attacking. We have no way of repelling them.”

“If Earth falls, we’ll simply take it back,” Rade said.

“Assuming there’s anything left to take back...” Shaw replied.

Rade didn’t know what to say to that. So he changed topics. “Did you get my earlier text?”

“Yes, you’re staying at a different estate,” Shaw said. “To avoid leading the enemy to us. Though honestly, I’d rather have you and the men here on watch than a bunch of combat robots.”

“I’d rather be there, too,” Rade said. “But Tahoe has a point about the enemy tracking us.”

“You expect to fend off an attack tonight?” Shaw asked.

“I don’t know what to expect with these enemies,” Rade said. “We’ll relocate in the morning. Maybe head to another second tier city that hasn’t fallen. What’s the closest?”

“I hear Aubagne, right next to Marseille, has been putting up a ferocious defense,” Shaw said. “Most of the Marseille defenders have fallen back to that city.”

“Then that’s where we’ll go,” Rade said.

“Maybe we should just take the booster rockets into orbit now,” Shaw said.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Rade said. “Especially with the mothership orbiting on this hemisphere. We’ve heard reports of evacuation craft being shot down.”

“Well, then we should make our way to the opposite hemisphere then,” Shaw said.

“We might just have to,” Rade said. He paused. “How are the twins?”

“Fine,” Shaw said. “Alex was asking after you. ‘Dada,’ he says. ‘Where dada?’ I told him you were on an important mission.”

“Did Sil ask about me?” Rade said.

“No,” Shaw replied.

“Figures,” Rade said.

A notification appeared in the lower right side of his screen. Rade sat up straighter.

“Have to go,” Rade said. “Surus is tapping in.”

“Let me know how it goes,” Shaw said.

“I will.” Rade disconnected and then switched to Surus’ call. She was requesting a visual conversation this time. Rade accepted, and her hologram appeared momentarily.

Her host, Ms. Bounty, was standing in her usual form-fitting black fatigues, except the normally impeccably-kept clothing was ripped and dirty. Her hair was not carried in the usual ponytail, and instead flowed disheveled and unkempt on all sides, giving her the appearance of a feral woman. She had a small chunk of skin missing from the lower right of her face that revealed the metal underneath the artificial flesh.

“Surus,” Rade said.

“Rade,” she replied.

“You’ve seen better days,” Rade told her.

“Things have become a bit fraught in Shanghai,” Surus said. “It’s not safe to roam the streets.”

“The same is true of most capital cities across the world, from what I’ve heard,” Rade said.

“Humanity has not lost,” Surus said. “This is only the first round. Your species has been knocked to the mat with a bloody nose. But in the second round, you’re going to get up kicking.”

“Tell me you’ve learned something to support that optimism,” Rade said. “You promised a way to protect any mechs I got my hands on?”

“You may have been wondering where I have been these past few hours,” Surus said.

“I was wondering, yes,” Rade said.

“I’ve been busy,” Surus said.

Rade suppressed an annoyed laugh. “Well, I figured that much out...”

“I possessed one of your clones,” Surus said. “The organic part incinerated upon my touch, of course, but I was able to enter the brain region formed by the nano-machines—essentially the AI core. I followed some of its brethren around for several hours while I digested the contents of its memory.”

“Digested,” Rade said. “Why don’t I like the sound of that word choice?”

“Let’s just say, the nano-machines didn’t survive my probing,” Surus said.

“So what did you learn?” Rade said.

“It is fascinating,” Surus said. “The clones... each of them believe they are you. They have a subset of your memories: some of your early life from childhood to training, and much of your MOTH experiences, up to your capture during the Second Alien War. But they also have alien thoughts and directives. It is truly boggling.”

“All right,” Rade said. “That’s interesting and all, if a little disturbing, and I’m almost wishing you hadn’t told me. Because it makes me feel a little... violated. But let me rephrase that: what have you learned that could help us?”

“The Mahasattva have developed new space-based stealth technology since last you encountered them,” Surus said. “It allowed them to creep all the way to Earth without revealing themselves. They used the Gates to get here, I believe, passing through each system unnoticed.”

“That begs the question, where did the Mahasattva get this technology?” Rade said. “I thought the United Systems had their homeworld under quarantine. They weren’t allowed to build starships. Nor were they allowed to ever leave.”

“Yes, and they have done both, it appears,” Surus said. “Or some of them have, at any rate. As for your question: where did the Mahasattva get this technology? They got it from the planet they chose as their homeworld.”

“What do you mean?” Rade said.

“They didn’t choose to settle that world randomly,” Surus said. “It was once owned by a Tech Class V race. Perhaps you have heard of them. The Elder.”

“Now you tell us,” Rade said. “You could have informed the United Systems about that before the Brass allowed the aliens to claim that world.”

Surus shrugged. “They never asked. Besides, I figured if I volunteered the information, it would only cause the United Systems to give the Mahasattva more grief. Perhaps nuking them again, or forcing them to relocate to a different planet. As you know, I have a firm non-interference policy when it comes to humanity and other species in this region of space. A policy I have adhered to ever since the Greens chased the Phants away in the First Alien War. I only intervene when it becomes obvious that the existence of the human race is at stake. Such as now.”

“That policy of yours may have to be adjusted slightly,” Rade asked. “If it’s going to result in future invasions of the scale we’re seeing here.”

“Perhaps,” Surus replied.

“Have you been able to figure out what happened to all the fleets we had in the system, and those past the jump Gates?” Rade said. “Fleets that should have come to the rescue of our planet by now?”

“As you know, the InterGalNet is currently offline, including the MILNet portion, restricting access to Earth-side nodes only,” Surus said.

“That’s right,” Rade said.

“Well, I’ve been able to access some of China’s land-based telescopes,” Surus said. “In addition to monitoring the local chatter of Sino-Korean government and military officials. I have determined that the fleets have indeed returned to Earth. They’ve staged several attacks against the mothership, and their last run, made several hours ago, caused the most damage yet. However, the vessel is self healing, like the motherships of the Phants, and can quickly recover after laser damage. And nukes never reach it: a floating shield of pods envelops the mothership at a safe distance, and some of those pods break away whenever incoming nukes arrive, swarming them to trigger the proximity fuses. Those pods also strike any ships that approach too closely, converting them to the side of the enemy.”

Rade sighed. “So you still haven’t told me anything that could help us. There has to be something embedded in those memories...”

“There are a few useful things, yes,” Surus said. “First of all, I want to mention that when I took over the clone, I inherited its particle beam weapon. I’ve been analyzing the device, and I believe I can design an EM emitter that will disable the nano-machines as soon as a particle beam comes into contact with the enclosing EM field lines. You’ll need to get access to a jumpsuit at minimum for this to work. Preferably a mech, mostly for power reasons.”

“We’ve got access to both,” Rade said. “As well as booster rockets.”

“Excellent,” Surus said. “Send me the schematics for your current mech model and I’ll begin working on an EM design immediately. I’ll test it with the particle beam rifle I’ve procured. Do you have access to an industrial grade 3D printer?”

Rade finished sending the schematics of the ATLAS mechs and said: “At the moment, no. But we can get to one, so that’s not a problem. Is there anything else you have for us?”

“I’m also developing a spoofing emitter,” Surus said. “Something you can use to trick the invaders into believing you’re one of them. It will respond to the basic EM signals transmitted by the nano-machines in the brains and AI cores of the clones and robot units, mimicking the expected responses. It won’t get you past a detailed interrogation by an enemy unit, but it will allow you to pass a cursory check. That won’t be ready for a while yet, but I should have the particle beam protection ready by this morning. I’ll send the emitter design to you for 3D printing as soon as I’m able.”

“I actually encountered a clone patrol earlier,” Rade said. “And I was able to join them by virtue of my DNA alone. I was wearing one of their helmets and uniforms at the time. I stayed for maybe half a minute before sneaking off into a side street.”

“You were lucky,” Surus said. “Because the clones periodically poll all members of such patrols. Likely you had joined the patrol between the polling interval. That’s my only explanation. If you hadn’t looked the way you do, they probably would have attacked you on sight.”

“One of them did aim a rifle at me,” Rade said, “but hesitated, eventually lowering its weapon. At the time, my guess was that it assumed I was damaged.”

“That’s possible as well, I suppose,” Surus said.

“One thing I wanted to ask you,” Rade said. “So these mechs we’ve procured... they’re ATLAS units. The cobra lasers don’t have the same intensity boost you programmed into our Hoplites, so I’m guessing we’ll still have to aim for known vulnerabilities, such as the eye regions.”

“That would be an accurate assumption,” Surus said. “Though you could certainly try to target other regions, and see if it has any effect. Cobras are at least an order of magnitude more powerful than a tiny laser rifle, after all.”

“So, we’ll be immune to their particle beams once we get the new emitters printed and installed,” Rade said. “But how will we fare against the scorpion lasers?”

“The ballistic shield attached to the model you sent me should provide adequate protection from their laser fire,” Surus said. “Several blows to the same area will still penetrate those shields, of course. But that’s nothing you haven’t experienced in previous battles.”

“All right,” Rade said. “Thanks for the updates. You’ve given me hope, Surus. And all of humanity hope.”

“I plan to join you, eventually,” Surus said. Her expression turned grim, and the bare metal on the lower right of her face seemed to glint ominously. “As I told you earlier, we’ve only lost the first round. The second round begins tomorrow. We will take the fight to the enemy. I swear it to you.”

With that, she disconnected.

Rade sat back, gazing into the empty kitchen.

We might have a chance of defeating them yet.

twenty-five

Rade spoke to Tahoe over the comm and asked him to get in touch with Lieutenant Bastille.

“While there might not be any working 3D printers in Saint Tropez,” Rade told Tahoe. “See if the lieutenant can hunt down any working printers in the outlying districts.”

“Will do,” Tahoe replied.

Afterwards, Rade updated Shaw and went to sleep.

He received the anti-particle beam blueprints from Surus early the next morning, shortly after waking. She also managed to get him a preliminary signal-spoofing design. That was good, because it meant Rade wouldn’t have to make two separate trips to the 3D printers.

He summoned the team to the kitchen and held a briefing.

After he explained what Surus had discovered, he turned to Tahoe: “Was Bastille able to scare up any 3D printers?”

Tahoe shook his head. “As you saw firsthand, all of the manufacturing buildings in Saint Tropez were damaged. Bastille sent search and recovery teams to all of them, but no industrial printers remain intact. He did manage to turn up a few small 3D printers in different shops and cafes, but those are hardly industrial grade, and the materials definitely won’t suit our needs, not if we’re creating EM emitters meant to interface with ATLAS mechs.”

“No, that won’t cut it,” Rade agreed.

“He did tell me that some printers should still remain intact in Aubagne,” Tahoe said. “He’s sent the coordinates of an aerospace company whose warehouse should contain the printers and supplies we need. There’s also a robot shop that might have a smaller 3D printer we could use, though it might not have all the raw materials.”

Rade accepted the coordinate transmission request from Tahoe and pulled up the map of Aubagne. The two buildings were highlighted, and appeared relatively close together near the center of the city.

“Bastille didn’t give you linkage codes to the Aubagne branch of the Gendarme?” Rade asked. He wanted to see the red and blue dots indicating tangos and friendlies on that map, which the linkage codes would provide.

“No, he doesn’t have them,” Tahoe said. “We’ll have to get that from the local troops when we arrive in the city.”

“Assuming there are any local troops left,” Fret said.

“That’s a good point,” Rade said. “Do we know the status of the defenders? Has the city fallen?”

“Bastille isn’t sure,” Tahoe said.

“He isn’t sure...” Rade said.

“No,” Tahoe continued. “He lost contact with Aubagne shortly after two a.m. last night.”

“Hmm,” Fret said. “Not sure I like the sound of that.”

“Neither do I,” Rade said. “But that city contains the closest 3D printers. So we don’t really have a choice.”

“Assuming those printers remain intact,” Harlequin said. “If Aubagne has indeed fallen, and the damage is as severe as Saint Tropez, there is a high likelihood we will arrive to discover only rubble.”

“It’s too bad the orbital MILNet is still down,” Tahoe said. “Or we could get Bastille to access the latest satellite imagery of the area.”

“We’re just going to have to check ourselves,” Rade said. “Because without those printers, we don’t have a real chance against the enemy. Surus has offered us hope. We need those printers to turn that hope into reality.”

Bender snickered. “You sound like a 3D printer salesman or something.”

Rade frowned at him.

“Sorry boss.” Bender held his hands behind his back and kicked at the ground like a school kid being chastened by his teacher. “But all joking aside, you know I’m coming with you, right? I’m all for improving my mech. Whatever it takes to get me the advantage, so I can do some proper bug killin’. And if those bugs just happen to look like you, it’s only an added bonus!” He flashed his golden grille at Rade.

“I’m not sure whether to be offended or proud,” Rade said.

“Definitely proud,” Bender said. “Doing my part to help rid the world of your clones. And of course I won’t pretend I’m shooting my boss. Oh no siree. I wouldn’t do that.”

“Try not to sound too sarcastic,” Manic said.

“Who, me?” Bender said. “Sarcastic? Naaaaaw.”

“Bull,” Manic said. “You’ll be shooting those clones with a smile on your face.”

“Won’t you?” Bender said.

“Actually, I probably will,” Manic said.

“If we were back in the military, I’d almost be worried you two were planning to frag me,” Rade said. “But I know you well enough that I get your sick senses of humor.” Rade surveyed the men. “So who else is coming?”

All of the men, and combat robots, volunteered.

Rade nodded. “Good. We leave in half an hour. We’re taking the ATLAS mechs. Suit up.”

“Wooyah!” Manic said.

“Don’t get too excited,” Rade said. “I plan to halt the mechs at the edge of the city if it appears Aubagne is lost. And we’ll proceed forward in jumpsuits.”

“Damn,” Manic said.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Bender said. “Enjoyable as that might be for your pussy. Stimulating, and all.”

“Dude, how many times have you seen me naked?” Manic said. “I don’t have a pussy.”

“How do I know you haven’t changed genders since the last time?” Bender said. “The operation takes what, five minutes?”

“How would you know?” Manic said.

“He got himself a trainer pussy a few years back,” Fret said. “He wanted to see what it would be like to live as a woman.”

“You shouldn’t confuse your personal memories with that of other people,” Bender said.

“As I said, thirty minutes,” Rade interjected. “I expect to see you all outside and loaded into the mechs. Centurions ride the passenger seats.”

Rade went to the Quonset with the other Argonauts and clambered to Hugo’s passenger seat to retrieve the jumpsuit, the cooling and ventilation undergarment, and the jetpack. He carried the heavy items down and changed into the undergarment, fitting the holes over the hardpoints that protruded from his joints. He shrugged on the jumpsuit assemblies, keeping the faceplate open to conserve oxygen. Finally he attached the jetpack, loaded into Hugo, and walked the mech outside.

The group was ready fifteen minutes early, and so Rade gave the order to begin the journey to Aubagne.

The mechs followed the country route. Wherever possible, they hugged the shoulder of the road, and remained underneath the plane trees that often overhung the asphalt.

Sometimes they traveled off road and took shortcuts across farms and estates, especially when the route proved impassable due to tornado damage or abandoned vehicles. Twice they hid underneath groves of trees when alien craft were spotted in the distance.

Lui detected the equivalent of multifrequency LIDAR emerging from those craft, but the LIDAR blurring tech in the ATLAS mechs apparently successfully blended the units into their surroundings, because the craft never changed course to fly over the team, instead heading north at high speed, perhaps intending to reinforce alien troops in Lyon or Paris. Rade was just glad those flyers weren’t heading east, otherwise he would have been worried about Shaw, Tepin and the kids.

There was very little traffic on the road at all anymore. Most people would want to be with their families to wait out what they saw as their last few days on Earth, and once they arrived home with their loved ones, there would be no reason to venture out anymore. Indeed, when the mech party swerved off road, Rade occasionally spotted families watching from the windows of chateaus and country houses.

As they neared the outskirts of Aubagne, the farms became less and less frequent, replaced by the plaster-walled and tile-roofed buildings of villages that hadn’t yet fallen to the enemy. He saw very few people in those villages: those who remained had locked themselves away in their apartments and villas, with only the occasional somber face peering from a window.

Smoke rose ominously from the Aubagne city center. But thankfully no drones patrolled the sky, at least none that Rade could see. That made his task easier. 

“TJ, I don’t suppose you can hack into the city’s camera grid,” Rade asked. “And give us a heads up on enemy locations?”

“Unfortunately, the camera grid appears to be offline at the moment,” TJ said. “Or the remote interface is offline, at least.”

“Too bad,” Rade said.

He had the Argonauts hide their mechs behind a screen of buildings, and arranged them in defensive positions to cover all approaches. Though there were no drones, as a precaution the team took care to utilize nearby trees and building eaves to shield them from the sky, in case the mothership was watching: though given the intensity and scale of assaults taking place in bigger cities worldwide, it seemed unlikely the mothership would be paying much attention to a handful of human-controlled mechs in a third-tier town like Aubagne.

Rade sent Algorithm and Brat forward to act as scouts.

“I want your internal comm nodes turned off,” Rade told the two robots. Even though Tahoe believed the enemy couldn’t track comm nodes, Rade wasn’t going to take any chances.

The designated Centurions leaped onto the nearby rooftop and dropped, vanishing from view. They also disappeared from the overhead map since their comm nodes were no longer active.

The minutes ticked past as the Argonauts waited for the robots to return.

“Hey Manic, what was that chick’s name you picked up on the beach last week?” Bender asked over the comm.

“I don’t actually know,” Manic said. “That seems like an age ago, given everything that has happened since then. Cindy. Mindy. Or something. Why?”

Bender started snickering over the comm. Soon he was laughing uncontrollably.

“What, what?” Manic said.

Bender managed to get his laughter under control. “When you brought her back to the villa,” Bender said. “You remember what you did?”

“No,” Manic said.

“You went straight to the can to take a dump,” Bender said.

“So?” Manic said.

“You shouldn’t leave your girls alone when I’m home,” Bender said. “Not even for a few minutes.”

“Ah, no, you didn’t...” Manic said.

“Yes, I did,” Bender said. “Raw dog, baby.” He erupted in an even louder laugh.

“You’re an evil bastard,” TJ said, though he chuckled along, too.

“TJ, my man,” Bender said. “It gets better. When I was done, I left her on the couch and went to the kitchen to fix myself some chicken. So then I peer into the living room a bit later and I see her sitting on Manic’s face!” Bender was snickering loudly. “And get this. Get this!” He was struggling to talk between laughs. “Afterwards... he tells me... Manic says... ‘she tasted salty!’” Bender chortled so hard, he bent over and grabbed onto his knees, an action mimicked by his mech.

“I think I just threw up a bit in my mouth,” Fret said. 

Manic turned away from his defensive position, taking a step toward Bender.

“Get back there, Manic,” Rade said. “Guard your approach.”

Manic hesitated, then turned away, saying nothing.

Bender continued guffawing, his mech bent over.

“Bender,” Rade said. “Bender!”

Bender finally got his laughter under control and stood up. “Sorry boss. Watching my approach...” Bender aimed his cobra past the building to cover his assigned vector.

Ten minutes later Algorithm and Brat returned and reactivated their comm nodes.

“The city has definitely fallen,” Algorithm said over the main channel. “There are no friendly units in sight. The streets are patrolled by soldiers and converted walker units. Some of those soldiers aren’t clones... they don’t have armor, and look like ordinary citizens, except for the black veins marring their features, and the dead eyes. Those soldiers are moving from building to building, kicking in doors and vanishing inside. They’re obviously sweeping each house. Sometimes they emerge with more soldiers than they went inside with. I saw a group of four clones enter a building, and come out again joined by a man and a woman, and two children. All of them with black veins and dead eyes.”

Rade shook his head. That could be my family.

“However, the city power grid appears to be active,” Algorithm continued. “Traffic lights are still functional.”

That was good. It meant they could print the parts in the city, rather than having to relocate the printer and raw materials to somewhere that still had power.

“All right. Let’s do this.” Rade glanced at the ATLAS units beside him. “Tahoe, Harlequin, you’re with me. We’re going on a little stealth mission to these printers. Leave your mechs behind: let’s not make easy targets for the enemy.”

“What are the rest of us supposed to do?” Lui asked.

“I’ll need a couple of mechs to create a diversion...” Rade said.

“Ooh ooh pick me pick me!” Bender said.

“TJ, you’ll remain in command here,” Rade said. “Don’t let the enemy discover you.” He addressed his ATLAS. “You’re in control, Hugo. Obey TJ.”

“Understood, boss,” the mech’s AI said. 

Rade opened his cockpit and clambered down the ATLAS.

Tahoe and Harlequin joined him on the street in their jumpsuits. Like Rade, they had their faceplates open.

“What was that about a diversion?” Tahoe asked.

“Bender, Lui, I want the two of you to loop your mechs around to the north,” Rade said. “Take your Centurions with you—they should stay in the passenger seats and provide covering fire as necessary. It’ll be your job to prepare a distraction, and draw the enemies away from the city core.”

“Yes!” Bender said. “I knew you weren’t going to let me sit out this one on the sidelines.”

“Be careful not to let those particle beams hit your ATLAS units,” Rade said. “We don’t have the emitter tech, yet. The diversion should be low key. You fire your lasers at a walker or some other unit, let nearby tangos spot you, then flee. Draw them away. Lui, you’re in charge.”

“Understood,” Lui said. “Bender, let’s go.”

The two proceeded on a roundabout route toward the north side of the city.

“Hey Lui,” Bender said over the comm. “Take a gander at this tree. Looks like your pussy.”

“Bender, Lui, I want your comm nodes off,” Rade sent. “At least until you’ve been spotted.”

“Roger that,” Lui replied. The blue dots representing their units vanished from the overhead map as they complied.

Rade pulled up the overhead map and addressed Tahoe and Harlequin. “We’ll head for the aerospace warehouse first. It’s our best chance at finding usable printers. If the building is destroyed, we’ll cut east and make for the robot shop instead. Comm nodes off. We rely on voice communications only for the time being. TJ, your team is to keep comm nodes active. Watch for any distress calls from either my team, or Lui’s.”

“Will do,” TJ said.

Rade deactivated the comm node portion of his Implant and the blue dots of all his companions disappeared on the overhead map. The outline of the buildings remained on the map, however, as that data was cached in his Implant.

Rade fired his jetpack and landed on the roof of the closest building, breaking a few tiles underfoot as he did so. He dropped to survey the rooftops in view, searching for tangos. Tahoe and Harlequin joined him.

When he was satisfied that no enemies awaited on any of those roofs, he rose to a crouch.

Time to go.

twenty-six

Rade proceeded at a crouch to the edge of the roof and dropped once more to scan the street with his companions. He ran his rifle scope over windows, doorways, gambrels and other potential hides. When finished, he jetted across to the next building and repeated the search.

In that manner the three of them made their way toward the city core. Sometimes the buildings were so close together, essentially abutting one another, that the use of jetpacks was unnecessary, and the trio merely had to step or leap from one rooftop to another. At other times, the gaps were so wide-ranging that the team had to drop to the street and scramble across to the next set of buildings before continuing. It was probably a good thing the camera grid was offline, since the three passed near more than a few of the dome-shaped monitoring devices: Rade had no doubt the aliens could have accessed the feeds if the system were online, given their knowledge of human tech.

Rade spotted patrols of the clones in their distinctive crescent moon helmets. Some of the clones were engaged in sweeping the different buildings: they kicked in doors and rushed inside. He also saw scorpion units among them, as well as converted walkers and Centurions.

Rade always gave the patrols and sweepers a wide berth, either that or he and his companions hid on a given roof until the enemy were long past.

Quite a few of the buildings were riddled with laser bores, and as they neared the center of town, collapsed structures began to fill the streets.

“That looks like the result of a lot of missile attacks,” Tahoe said quietly as the trio stared down at a particularly damaged building.

“Many of these collapses were probably caused by the human defenders,” Harlequin said. “As the enemy seems equipped solely with lasers.”

“Could also be defenders that were turned by the particle beams,” Tahoe said.

“There is that,” Harlequin said.

“Don’t forget the tornadoes,” Rade said. “Losing control of one’s weather grid is never a good thing in a war.”

“When are Bender and Lui going to start that diversion?” Tahoe said. “They’ve had more than enough time to reach the northern side.”

“Maybe they already have,” Harlequin said. “And we just haven’t noticed.”

A patrol of clones appeared at the end of the street, and the trio quickly flattened themselves on the roof tiles.

While waiting for the patrol to pass, Harlequin seemed to become contemplative.

“This is the species that killed my previous incarnation,” the Artificial said quietly.

“You want vengeance?” Tahoe asked.

“No,” Harlequin said. “Though I am worried.”

“Worried?” Tahoe said. “Why?”

“That I will meet the same fate as my predecessor at the hands of these Mahasattva,” Harlequin said.

“You won’t,” Rade said, momentarily looking away from the street. “I’m not going to let that happen.”

Harlequin smiled sadly. “While your words are comforting, I know that even you are not infallible, boss. If I must die here, then I must die. I have come to terms with the fact that I am not completely immortal. My lifespan may be finite within this universe.”

“Welcome to the club,” Tahoe said.

The patrol passed and the party continued toward their target.

Fires burned in the downtown core where industrial buildings had collapsed. One persistent fire belonged to what appeared to be a fuel depot.

They made their way forward until the aerospace warehouse came into view. The building seemed intact, however it was crawling with scorpion units.

“What now?” Tahoe said as they hunkered down three rooftops away from the building.

“We wait until Bender and Lui give us our diversion,” Rade said.

Rade could see the buildings of Marseille in the distance. He zoomed in near the horizon and spotted alien pods floating low over the structures. Steel tentacles extended outward from the aft sections of the craft, as if the aliens searched for radio waves or other signals. He hoped the vessels remained in Marseille when the diversion came.

He lay there uncomfortably, waiting, feeling his muscles growing stiff, when all of a sudden the tangos began racing away to the north.

“Finally,” Tahoe said.

“I knew Bender and Lui wouldn’t let us down,” Harlequin said.

Rade smiled broadly. “Have they ever?”

He glanced at the craft on the horizon. None of them had moved from their positions in Marseille. Good. The enemy didn’t consider the two mechs a threat. Yet.

When the last of the scorpions vanished from view, Rade and the others leaped down; the strength-enhancing exoskeletons of the suits cushioned their fall.

They raced across the street to the entrance of the aerospace warehouse. The glass doors were shattered.

Rade entered the lobby with Tahoe. Rade went high, Tahoe low. No tangos.

“Stay here and watch our six,” Rade ordered Tahoe. “If you spot anyone, you are not to engage. Come to the back room and inform me directly.”

“Understood.” Tahoe ducked behind the front counter and then peered past, aiming at the entrance into the street beyond.

Rade and Harlequin proceeded through the office area and entered the main warehouse. The large, square-shaped frames of 3D printers lined the walls; different sized spools containing raw material for the printers were connected to the ceiling. There were also several printing drones lying inactive off to one side. That the invaders hadn’t converted them told Rade the enemy considered those drones useless.

“When Bastille said industrial, he meant it.” Harlequin stepped forward, gazing at the big machinery. “These machines are perhaps overkill for our needs.”

“Not necessarily,” Rade said. “In fact, this is perfect. We can print twelve of each emitter at the same time.”

Though they only needed eight of each, one per mech, Rade wanted to create a few extra, just in case. Though industrial grade 3D printers were supposed to follow blueprints exactly, sometimes duds were created. The smallest of errors could cause an electrical short, especially given the scale of some of the circuit board components.

“Do the printers have power?” Rade asked. “Are you able to interface?”

“I am,” Harlequin replied.

“Scan the different barcodes attached to the spools,” Rade said. “Confirm that we have all the necessary materials.”

Harlequin ran his gaze from spool to spool. Small digital barcodes were attached to each one, indicating the material type. Harlequin finished his survey and glanced at Rade: “All the materials are available in ample quantities.”

“Upload the designs and begin printing,” Rade said. “Program one of the machines to print twelve of each emitter type at the same time.”

A nearby 3D printer hummed to life. The crossbeam inside the square frame set to work, rapidly moving back and forth, transferring the different materials to the substrate at the base of the printer. Each material had a different binding temperature, and would be heated the appropriate amount by a built-in laser as it emerged from the printing nozzle. Some of the spools slowly turned as threads of material were fed into the large loom positioned above the printer, the individual lines forming a weave as they reached the printing head.

Twenty-four objects began to take shape as the minutes passed. Twelve of them were squarish, and about the size of a human hand. The other twelve were long rectangular bars, roughly as long as a human arm. The former were the anti-particle beam emitters, the latter the spoofers.

Leaving the printer to do its work, Rade went to the front offices to check in with Tahoe.

“No sign of any enemies,” Tahoe said.

Rade nodded, then returned to the warehouse area.

After another ten minutes, Rade glanced at Harlequin and said: “How long?”

“The devices are almost complete,” Harlequin said. “Two minutes.”

Tahoe appeared a moment later; he rushed into the warehouse area from the front offices and blurted out: “I got several scorpion units headed our way.”

Rade took up a position with Tahoe near the entrance to the offices, and aimed his scope down the hallway. No tangos appeared.

“Well if they’ve come,” Rade said. “They’ve decided not to enter the building.”

“They don’t know we’re here,” Tahoe agreed.

Rade edged his way forward into the hallway, and the entrance slowly came into view. Beyond the smashed glass doors he saw scorpion units casually wandering around in the street outside.

He remained there, watching from the shadows.

Harlequin came up behind him.

“Printing is complete,” Harlequin announced.

Rade glanced at the Artificial. He carried a bulging sack over one shoulder.

“Did you get them all?” Rade asked, nodding toward the sack.

“Twenty-four emitters and spoofers, in the bag,” Harlequin said.

“And who says Artificial’s don’t have a sense of humor,” Rade said.

The trio returned to the printing area. Rade led them to the rear of the warehouse, where a door led to a side street. He opened the door a crack and peered outside. There were several more scorpion units out there.

“Damn it.” He silently shut the door, then glanced at Harlequin. “Can you modify the emitters to work with our jumpsuits?”

“No,” Harlequin said. “The devices are designed for mechs. The power and wiring requirements are completely different. I would have to go back to the design phase and come up with something new. It would take several hours.”

Rade turned toward the door. “I’m going to cause a diversion.”

“No,” Harlequin said. “It shouldn’t be you. As you are our leader, I can’t allow this.”

“We’re not in the military anymore,” Rade said. “We don’t have to follow military protocol.”

“Perhaps,” Harlequin said. “But that protocol is in place for good reason. The team cannot lose its leader.”

“Let me do it,” Tahoe said.

“Both of you have families,” Harlequin said. “Children. I do not. I will provide the diversion.”

Rade hesitated. Finally: “Be careful. Lead them away to the west, lose them, and then loop around to the eastern side to our mechs. When you’re clear of the building, activate your Implant and keep TJ apprised of the situation.”

“I will.” Harlequin handed the sack to Rade and approached the door. The Artificial opened it slightly, waited several moments, and then dashed out into the street.

Rade closed the door behind Harlequin, leaving it open a crack so he could observe.

In a few seconds, the scorpions spotted Harlequin.

The Artificial jetted up onto a nearby rooftop and vanished, heading west. The alien mob pursued, their laser turrets firing repeatedly.

Rade waited until the scorpions from the front area joined in the pursuit, and then he and Tahoe fled outside. They leaped onto nearby rooftops and headed in the opposite direction, leaping between the buildings and the rubble.

The pair occasionally ducked for cover when patrols and scorpions raced past, headed westward to aid in the hunt. Rade kept an eye on the distant ships that floated on the horizon, but they never left Marseille. Bigger fish to fry there, no doubt.

In twenty minutes he and Tahoe neared the outskirts of the city and were able to increase their pace, thanks to the scarcity of patrols. Rade activated his Implant to alert TJ and the others of his presence. The overhead map updated with their positions: the team was just ahead, past three buildings. Bender and Lui had rejoined them from their little diversionary trip to the north.

According to the map, Harlequin was also making his way to their location from the west. Apparently he had successfully eluded his pursuers—a bunch of red dots were frozen on the display several streets behind him, indicating the last time Harlequin had spotted them.

And then Harlequin’s blue dot winked out.

“The Internet went down?” Rade asked over the comm. Harlequin would be piggybacking his connection on the Internet, since the range of his built-in comm node was limited to around fifty meters.

“No, Harlequin has been shutting down his comm node intermittently,” TJ said. “Just in case the enemy is using it to track him. Though as usual, so far the evidence seems to indicate otherwise.”

Rade reached the ATLAS units and leaped down onto Hugo’s passenger seat. He passed the sack to Algorithm, who resided there; the combat robot secured the precious cargo.

Rade swiveled down to the cockpit area, but when the hatch cracked open he paused.

“TJ, how long would it take you to install the emitters?” Rade asked.

“About twenty minutes for each type,” TJ answered. “So forty minutes per mech. I can use the tools I have in my mech storage compartment. Would you like me to start?”

“That’s too long. Do it later.” Rade entered his mech and the hatch sealed. As the inner actuators enveloped him, the view from the ATLAS cameras filled his vision.

“He’s back,” Manic said a moment later.

Rade glanced at the overhead map. Harlequin’s blue dot had returned. He was nearly at the party. “That was fast.”

A moment later Harlequin appeared, leaping down from a nearby roof. He grabbed onto a gutter, which partially broke away, and used it to swing toward his mech. The cockpit dropped open and Harlequin vanished inside.

“Talk about a snazzy entrance,” Lui commented.

“Welcome back, monkey man,” Bender said.

“Call me Tarzan for short,” Harlequin said.

“Deactivate comm nodes,” Rade said. “Just in case. Tahoe, lead the way to the east. Half speed. It’s time to make a graceful exit.”

Tahoe led the mechs from the city. As before, they kept to the shoulder of the road, using the tree line for cover.

“By the way, Tar-who?” Manic said.

“Tarzan,” Harlequin clarified.

“Yeah, who the hell is that?” Manic said.

“Check your Implant,” Tahoe said.

“Rade made us deactivate our comm nodes, so I’m disconnected from the Internet,” Manic said.

“Should be in your local database...” Tahoe said.

“A fictitious character created by Edgar Rice Burroughs,” Harlequin explained. “Tarzan was orphaned in his infancy and raised by apes. Similar to myself.”

“You calling us apes?” Bender said, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“Humanity is essentially an upright ape,” Harlequin said. “They are your closest living ancestors. You evolved from them. In most taxonomic systems, your own scientists classify humanity as a type of primate. Homo sapiens.”

“Who you calling a homo?” Bender said.

“I—” Harlequin began.

“Bitch thinks he’s Tarzan,” Bender interrupted. “Unbelievable. Let’s hear your Tarzan call.”

“Tarzan call?” Harlequin said.

“Yodel, damn it!” Bender said.

“I can’t,” Harlequin said. “I’ll need to download a yodel program.”

“Then you ain’t Tarzan,” Bender said. “Because it’s all about the call. Here, let me teach you.” He proceeded to give the worst rendition of a yodel that Rade had ever heard.

“If you ever do that again,” Manic said. “I’m going to quit this team.”

Bender proceeded to do it again.

“Bender, please...” Rade sent.

“Sorry boss,” Bender said. “Hey Manic. How come you’re still here?”

“I never said when I’d quit,” Manic told him. “Could be today. Could be ten years from now. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Too bad,” Bender said.

When they were ten kilometers from the city, Rade gave the order to reactivate comm nodes, and the party continued on its way. While there was no ground-based pursuit, the occasional airship passed overhead, forcing the team to take cover.

“Do you guys really think the LIDAR blurring in these mechs is actually working?” Fret said after one such flyover.

“It’s working,” Tahoe said.

“What if the enemy merely wants us to think it’s working,” Fret said.

“To what purpose?” Lui asked.

“Maybe they hope we’ll lead them to a secret human base,” Fret said.

“Well, then they’re in for a surprise, aren’t they?” Lui said. “When they discover that we’re holing up at an empty farm.”

“The blurring is working,” Rade said. “They’re not going to find us.”

The rest of the return journey passed without incident; by nightfall the team members reached the estate that served as their base of operations. They deposited the mechs in the Quonset and disembarked. TJ and Bender worked on hooking up the emitter devices to the ATLAS units, and Rade instructed four of the Centurions to assist them. Surus had given Rade test parameters to run against the devices to ensure a given emitter functioned and wasn’t a dud; Rade transmitted those parameters to TJ and Bender and let them work.

Rade gave other Centurions the task of watching the four corners of the estate, and then retired to the country house. He put Lui and Manic on watch upstairs and downstairs, and then ate a meal of canned beans in the kitchen with the remaining Argonauts.

He told the team to get some rest and then found an empty room for himself. Before racking out, he decided to contact Surus. The Internet was still online, so he made the call without issue.

“How did it go?” her hologram asked him. She had repaired her face, Rade noted, so that she no longer had a metal understructure visible on the right side. She had secured her hair in a ponytail, and replaced her uniform with a tight-fitting duplicate that was free of rips. In essence, she looked her usual perfect self.

“We got the emitters printed,” Rade said. “TJ and Bender are installing them now.”

“Good,” Surus said. “I have identified myself to military bases across the planet, and transmitted the plans for the particle beam protection devices to them.” That would explain why she had cleaned up: to present her best face possible during the communications. Then again, she might have simply made those cosmetic changes to her holographic representation alone. “The tide should begin to turn in favor of humanity very soon. But that still leaves the mothership in orbit.”

“Wait,” Rade told her. “You say you transmitted the plans for the anti-particle beam device? But what about the signal spoofing emitter? That would prove mighty useful against the enemy.”

“It would,” Surus said. “Except I want to reserve that emitter for the Argonauts alone at the moment. I have a special mission in mind for you and your team.”

twenty-seven

Rade explained the operation to the team the next morning.

“Ooo that’s devious,” Bender said when Rade finished. “More devious than anything I’ve heard in a long time. I love it. I can’t wait to see the faces of those bug bitches when we throw the switch. But one question, how exactly is Surus going to be joining us? I thought her fine ass was in China?”

“She is,” Rade said. “But she’s gotten her hands on a Sino-Korean mech and booster rocket combination. An ATLAS 5 D I believe.”

“Nice,” Fret said. “Too bad those models are smaller than the 5 CFs.”

“It will suit her purposes well enough,” Rade said. “We launch in an hour. I expect to find you all suited up, aboard your mechs, and attached to your booster rockets ten minutes before oh nine hundred.”

Bender remained behind as the others filed outside.

“What’s on your mind?” Rade asked him.

“You really think we can do this?” Bender said. “We lost a lot of lives the last time we faced these bitches.”

Rade sighed. “We can do it. But I can’t guarantee that we won’t lose anyone.”

Bender nodded, then looked away, his eyes defocusing as he seemed to gaze off into the distance. “I’m damn proud, you know, to call you boss. The way you lead us, your strength of character, your... your heart. You’re the paragon of a MOTH. When the instructors told us they were training us to be more than men, they meant you.”

“Bender—” Rade began.

Bender held up a hand. “Let me finish. Can I finish? Okay. I wanted to thank you for having children. I know I laughed at you the first time you told me, but they’ve grown on me. And straight up: I feel like they’re my own. Just as you’re my brother, the twins are my children. I know that sounds messed up, but it’s true. So I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure you get through this alive. I won’t have no children of mine growing up without their real father. Because I’m just a surrogate.”

“You’re more than a surrogate,” Rade said. “You yourself are a shining example of what it means to be more than a man. I only hope my children grow up to be as brave and fearless as you.”

“Thank you,” Bender said, tearing up. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“And drop this notion of self-sacrifice right now,” Rade said. “Because I won’t let you die out there either, my brother. If you throw yourself into the line of fire to protect me, I’ll be right there at your side, shielding you. There’s a reason why we’ve stuck together as a team all these years. We work well together. We form an uninterrupted chain. And if one link in that chain fails and one of us goes down, we all go down.” He clasped Bender by the arm. “Now let’s go kill some bugs.”

“You got it, boss,” Bender said, his eyes glistening with unbridled joy.

After Bender left, Rade made one final call to bid Shaw farewell, perhaps for good. Despite his exchange with Bender, he had no idea if any of them would return from the mission alive. He hoped everyone would, and he would fight very hard to see that they all did, but he had no control of what the universe threw his way.

He had already informed Shaw of the mission the night before, so she knew this was a farewell call. The red eyes of her hologram gave away the fact that she had been crying.

“Well, this is it,” Rade said.

Shaw smiled bravely, though her eyes welled with fresh tears.

“Come on,” Rade said. “Don’t grieve. I haven’t died yet.”

“I’m not grieving,” she said. “I just wish... you didn’t have to go.”

“My DNA requires my presence,” Rade said.

“I thought Surus possessed one of your clones before,” Surus said. “Let her do it again. Then she can go without you.”

“You’re forgetting that when she possesses a clone, she incinerates the organic layer,” Rade said. “So that won’t work. I have to go.”

“Fine, but what if Surus is wrong?” Shaw said. “And when you get there, your DNA is worthless?”

“Then we’ll find a way to complete the mission regardless,” Rade said. “Look, even if I knew ahead of time that my DNA wouldn’t help, I still wouldn’t let the men go without me. I wouldn’t send them to their doom without me to guide them. I have to do this. For Alex. For my brothers. For humanity.”

“Forget humanity,” Shaw said. “Let’s run away, the two of us. And never come back. You wanted to flee before...”

“Yes,” Rade said, “but that was before we had a plan to win this.” An edge of steel hardened his tone. “And before they hurt Alex.”

“What’s the point of vengeance if you end up dead?” Shaw said. “Alex is alive. He has a new arm. You don’t need revenge.”

“As I mentioned, we have a plan now,” Rade said. “We have to try. If we let Earth fall, no human colony will be safe, not in any system. We can run. Perhaps live in peace for a few generations. But eventually the Mahasattva will come for us if we don’t stop them here.”

She slumped, the fight visibly flowing out of her. She had apparently come to accept that Rade was going to do this no matter what she said.

“I love you,” she told him finally. “Secure the future of humanity, then. But more importantly, secure the future of your children. Fight for them.”

Rade extended one hand toward her hologram as if to touch her cheek, and opened his mouth, but before he could answer she terminated the feed.

Rade sat back.

I always fight for my kids, my love. They’re all I’ve ever fought for. Besides you, and my brothers.

His fingers tightened into a fist.

Yes. I will fight for them.

RADE GATHERED WITH the other ATLAS units outside the Quonset. They had placed the booster rockets in a long, well-spaced line before the building, on an area of bare land that wouldn’t be affected by the fiery outburst of fuel produced by the launch. The Argonauts attached their mechs to the talon-like hooks provided by each device; those talons closed around the thigh and shoulder areas, securing the mechs to the boosters.

The Centurions observed from near the country house. The combat robots would be staying behind.

“Activate emitters,” Rade said. He did so, and then checked the diagnostics display on his HUD. The spoofing tech attached to Hugo was online and functioning, as was the anti-particle beam emitter. Rade ran through the team members and had them confirm one by one that their emitters were working. Even though they all badly wanted to come along, none of them would have lied if their spoofing devices were offline, as the failure of even one unit could put the entire mission at risk.

Apparently there was no need to turn off their comm nodes to use the spoofers. According to Surus, the nodes worked in conjunction with the tech, effectively masking their signals to enemy eyes. That was good, because it meant Rade didn’t have to rely on other means to communicate with his team.

At oh nine hundred, Rade gave the order to take flight. The rockets activated, and fuel burst from the nozzles in blue flames, launching the mechs skyward. Below, the watching robots saluted; the country house quickly shrank in size, the estate becoming merely part of a patchwork quilt of green and orange farms.

The MILNet portion of the InterGalNet had been restored early that morning, and Surus had been able to gain access. She had promptly transmitted the plans for the emitters to the remaining human fleets in orbit. According to her, they were 3D printing mass quantities and engaging in spacewalks to attach the devices to their hulls. Once the devices were attached, they planned to come about for an attack run on the mothership. Depending on the timing, it could prove convenient for Rade and the others, potentially offering a distraction while the Argonauts made their way inside.

The curvature of the Earth became more pronounced as the mechs proceeded toward the upper atmosphere.

“Well, we haven’t been shot down yet,” Manic said. “The tech must be working.”

“We have a ways to go yet,” Fret said. “I wouldn’t go jumping to conclusions and jinxing us.”

The blue sky gave way to the stars of space. The team steered toward the coordinates Surus had given Rade earlier. Ahead, fixed against the deep space backdrop, several black shapes blotted out the stars.

“Those are the smaller ships that protect the mothership,” Surus said over the comm.

“Surus, nice to see you finally decided to grace us with your sexy presence,” Bender said.

“Of course,” Surus said. “I couldn’t leave you by yourself, all lonely up here.”

Rade glanced at his tactical display and saw her blue dot entering orbit nearby. He had shared the linkage codes for the ATLAS comm nodes earlier so that her mech would be marked as a friendly to his team. She had installed the necessary emitters into her unit to provide spoofing and particle beam protection, of course.

“Hey Surus my girl,” Bender said. “When we’re done hunting bugs here, let’s grab a bite to eat. My treat.”

“No thanks,” Surus replied.

Rade thought he heard Manic snickering over the line. Probably his imagination.

As they flew between those dark ships, Rade began to make out the details. They were dodecahedrons—three-dimensional structures having twelve pentagonal faces. He had boarded one such vessel during the Second Alien War, rescuing Keelhaul from the clutches of the enemy. 

Keelhaul. He smiled wistfully at that name.

I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately.

Fighting the aliens who had caused his death would do that, Rade supposed. He also remembered Harlequin dying for him. He could still see the boreholes appearing in the face of the Artificial, as Harlequin saved Rade’s life, sacrificing himself so that Rade could live.

He cleared his mind.

I have to stay in the here and now. And do whatever I can to prevent such deaths from ever happening again.

“And so we drift through the bowels of hell,” Fret said. “In this, our darkest endeavor, with enemies on all sides. Surrounded. Who will be the lantern that brings light to this darkness? Who will be our guiding beacon?”

“Oh Fret baby, let it be me!” Bender said.

“Just be glad they still haven’t fired,” Manic said.

“Here comes your guiding beacon,” Lui said.

Surus joined the rest of the Argonauts in her mech; she pulled ahead, taking the lead.

One by one the booster rockets exhausted the last of their fuel, and the ATLAS units jettisoned them in turn. Momentum carried the team toward their target.

“This could be it,” Fret said. “The last hurrah of the Argonauts.”

“Damn it!” Bender said. “Can you stop with the doom and gloom? Ain’t nobody’s last hurrah but yours.”

“Since this is my last hurrah,” Fret said. “I might as well reveal my deepest, darkest secret. I love you, Bender.”

“And I hate you,” Bender commented. “Passionately.”

“Looks like you found someone else to grab a bite to eat with when this is done,” Lui quipped.

“Har,” Bender said. “I’d rather eat with a roomful of Marines.”

“See that?” Manic said. “Unequivocal evidence that Bender is gay.”

“The hell you talking about?” Bender said.

“You just said you’d rather eat out a roomful of Marines,” Manic explained.

“I’m muting you now,” Bender said.

Eventually the last of the dodecahedrons fell away, revealing a larger monolithic darkness waiting beyond. It looked like five of the smaller dodecahedral vessels had been glued together to form a cross shape.

“Seems the buggies have done some upgrading to their ships since the last time we whooped their asses,” Bender said. “I’m looking forward to stomping their mofo nest. Like stomping on the nest of some paper wasps.”

“You do realize that when you do that, most of the wasps come out, right?” Manic said. “And they’re mightily pissed.”

“Bro,” Bender said. “You got no idea. My dad used to crush paper wasp nests with his bare hands. It’s all in the technique. You gotta crush the little bastards quick, letting the compressive forces of the nest do most of the work for you. If you do it right, the paper acts as a padding and protects your hands.”

“Oh really?” Manic said. “Okay, when we get back to Earth, I’d like to see you crush a paper wasp nest with your bare hands.”

“Bro, I’ll gladly do it,” Bender said. “I’ll show you a thing or two about what it means to be more than a man.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be real fun to watch,” Manic said. “Who wants to bet Bender won’t be crying like a baby afterward from all the stings he gets on his hands?”

“I’ll buy in on that,” Fret said. “But to make it more fun, we should tier the betting based on how many sting him. First tier is under ten. Second is ten to twenty. Third is twenty to thirty. We—”

“We’re approaching the vessel’s protective ring system,” Surus interrupted. “Rade, I’d like you to take the lead here. I’m designating the entry porthole on your tactical display.”

Surus applied decelerating thrust, allowing Rade to pull ahead.

twenty-eight

Rade spotted the ring system, which was composed of a series of pods that slowly rotated around the mothership. According to Surus, in previous battles against the fleet, those pods had detonated incoming nukes, and smashed into ships that came too close, converting them to the side of the aliens. They were essentially full of nano-machines.

“Now we see if this spoofing tech truly works,” Fret said. “Entering orbit, and passing through the smaller ships was only the first small step.”

“It will work,” Rade said firmly. “They wouldn’t have allowed us to come this close if it didn’t.”

Rade adjusted his course to pass over the ring system, and headed toward the entry porthole Surus had designated on the tactical display.

As the mechs moved through the revolving defenses, and none of the pods departed the ring system to intercept the party, Rade breathed a sigh of relief. The spoofing emitters were indeed working.

“Surus, you’ve given the spoofing tech to militaries worldwide?” Lui asked. “Or just the anti-particle beam emitters?”

“The latter only,” Surus said. “As I told Rade earlier, I don’t want to alert the enemy to the fact that we can spoof their signatures until we’re already aboard. I’ve programmed a timer message to go off on Earth two hours from now that will share the spoofing design over the MILNet with your fleets in orbit, and to nations across the Earth.”

“Well that’s good,” Fret said. “Because if we fail, that means at least someone else can try.”

“I’ve just about had it with your morale leeching pings,” Bender said.

“There will be no second chances,” Surus chimed in. “We can’t fail. Because if we do, I’m convinced the Mahasattva will disallow any further boarding parties until they find a way around our spoofing protocols. We must succeed.”

As Rade neared the enemy hull, he fired the thrusters on his jumpjets, adjusting his speed and course vectors to match that of the mothership. The changes didn’t require much propellant, as the rocket boosters had provided the majority of the necessary momentum.

“Their point defenses aren’t firing,” Harlequin said. “Another good sign.”

The hull below was composed of millions of pentagonal tiles, each one about the size of a human hand.

Rade landed near the outline of a hangar door—the target—and activated the magnetic mounts in his feet to secure himself.

“Stand in the circular area,” Surus said.

“What circular—” Rade began, and then he saw the round hollow next to the outline.

He waited until the other mechs attached to the hull beside the door, and then walked toward the hollow. The magnets in his feet automatically adjusted their strength based on the angle of his feet, and the speed of his stride, giving an approximation of walking under gravity conditions. It was a bit like trudging through thick mud, because he had to give a good pull every time he lifted each foot.

He entered the hollow and stood very still. A moment later the doors soundlessly opened. Rade could feel the vibrations traveling along the hull to the feet of his mech, which the ATLAS unit transmitted through the inner actuators to his actual limbs.

“The wonders of boss DNA,” Bender said.

“Anyone else feel that?” Lui asked. “Didn’t one of you say, at some point, that ATLAS units don’t transmit vibrations?”

“That was you!” Tahoe said.

“Oh,” Lui said. “Well, obviously some variants do, some don’t.”

The team entered what appeared to be a staging area. A medium-sized compartment that was capable of fitting all nine of their ATLAS units, plus several more to boot. Artificial gravity took over, gluing them to the deck and negating the need for the magnetic mounts. It felt equivalent to Earth gravity.

Dark passageways led away in several directions. The black bulkheads were composed of the same pentagonal tiles as the hull outside.

“I’m overlaying our route to the destination waypoint,” Surus said.

Rade accepted her overlay request, and the bulkheads of a dark passageway directly ahead became highlighted in green, negating the need for light. The passageway was broad enough to fit two mechs side by side.

“Activate LIDAR,” Rade said. The highlights were good, but didn’t indicate any enemy units that might block their path in those passages.

A white wireframe momentarily overlaid the green of the bulkheads, deck, and overhead.

“Let’s go,” Rade said. “Single file marching order.”

Rade proceeded inside, leading his Argonauts deeper into this place of darkness.

Different side corridors occasionally branched off, sometimes on either side, forming a crossroads. Rade spotted a scorpion unit at one point, headed toward him. He was only aware of the unit because of his LIDAR.

“Keep moving,” Surus said. “Trust in the spoofing technology.”

Rade continued forward, and the unit respectfully moved to the side to let his mech by. It remained in that position until all of the succeeding ATLAS units had passed.

“Damn, I love these spoofing devices,” Bender said. “Surus, I’m definitely taking you out for drinks later.”

“No you’re not,” Surus said.

They reached more scorpion units, which seemed to be on some sort of patrol errand, but always the robots moved aside.

“How are these scorpions seeing?” Tahoe asked. “Are they detecting our LIDAR? Because my sensors aren’t picking up any photons launched by them.”

“They know the layout of the ship thanks to their internal databases, of course,” Surus said. “As for sensing our presence, it’s because of the spoofing devices. If you check your EM spectrum, you’ll see that the scorpion units emit similar signatures to what our spoofers give off. Consider their EM waves a form of greeting, one that our devices give the appropriate response to.”

They also passed a few clones, these ones wearing jumpsuits, with glass extending from underneath the usual crescent moon shape of their helmets to form a closed-atmosphere environment.

Rade paused before a point in the passageway where the bulkheads seemed to distort slightly, just ahead; it was as if the photons of the LIDAR were traveling through a separate medium. Rade raised a halting hand and momentarily switched on the headlamp of his mech.

He saw a yellowish, translucent field in front of him. It spanned from deck to overhead, completely blocking all passage forward.

“What is this?” Rade asked.

“An airlock,” Surus said. “A few millimeters in thickness, the field functions as a semi-permeable membrane, keeping the atmosphere inside while allowing crew members to pass in and out.”

“The Mahasattva have definitely advanced their technology since the last time we encountered them,” Lui said.

“It is based on technology stolen from the Elder,” Surus continued. “Be warned: a cutting laser is fitted around the perimeter. If it flags you as an intruder, you will be incinerated when you pass through.”

“My DNA will protect me?” Rade asked.

“That’s what I’m hoping, yes,” Surus replied.

“Hoping,” Rade said. “You don’t sound too sure.”

“You will be safe,” Surus said.

Rade tentatively edged forward. When he was standing right before the field, he examined the perimeter, and saw the small metallic indentation that lined the bulkheads around it: the cutting laser.

“Don’t hesitate overlong,” Surus said. “Lest you alert the Sentience.” That was the overarching command and control, essentially the mind ganglion, that all Mahasattva were linked to.

Rade held his breath and extended the arm of his mech through the yellow membrane. It passed through without issue. He moved forward.

He saw a flash of yellow as he proceeded, but otherwise felt nothing; in moments he was standing on the other side of the barrier.

He checked the external readings on his HUD. “There’s definitely an atmosphere here. Nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide. They’ve designed it for humans.”

“Of course,” Fret said. “Have to keep your clones alive. Their organic portions, anyway.”

“All right, who’s next?” Rade said.

“Rade, come down from your mech,” Surus said. “You must shove the glove of your jumpsuit through the membrane, underneath the laser cutting rim, so that it continually detects your DNA. Essentially ‘holding the door’ for the rest of us, as the spoofing tech won’t be enough for the cutting laser, not for organic units.”

Rade dismounted and clambered down the rungs of the ATLAS to the deck.

He placed his gloved hand through the membrane and held his breath as Tahoe stepped through next. Rade’s hand remained intact, and Tahoe’s mech was not incinerated.

So far so good.

The rest of the team passed through without issue, and then Rade withdrew his hand and re-boarded Hugo. He disabled his headlamp, reverting to LIDAR, and continued to lead the way.

He passed more clones in the passage beyond, in addition to scorpion units. These ones wore the standard open air helmets.

At one point a klaxon sounded, and a red emergency light illuminated the passageway.

“Do you think we’ve been discovered?” Fret said.

“I have no idea,” Surus said.

“Well, we don’t need LIDAR anymore,” Rade said. “Not with these lights. Beams off.” He deactivated his own LIDAR as he spoke.

He advanced only two steps when a long line of troops appeared up ahead, hurrying toward the party.

Rade tensed, unsure of the newcomers’ intentions.

“Permission to open fire at these bitches?” Bender said.

“Hold,” Rade said. “Their weapons are directed toward the ground. Move to the side, let them pass.”

The troops, a mixture of scorpions and clones, jogged past, heading toward the outer regions of the ship.

“The fleet must be making its attack run,” Surus said.

“That would explain the emergency lights,” Lui said.

“Why would it explain it?” Fret said. “If they already know the layout of all the passageways, they wouldn’t need light...”

“Well, if the passageways are damaged in an attack, they would need to know,” Lui said. “Hence the lights.”

“Wait a second, Surus,” Fret said. “You say the fleet is making an attack run... what if they succeed in destroying the ship while we’re in here?”

“Then that’s good for humanity,” Tahoe said.

“But not so good for us,” Fret said.

“They won’t succeed,” Surus said. “At best, they will distract the enemy.”

“Must be working,” TJ said. “We’ve made it this far.”

Shortly thereafter the passageway opened up into a vast, cavernous area. A bright globe of light suspended near the top illuminated several hundred dodecahedral, spherical and conical structures made of crystals. Those buildings towered high into the air, their exteriors glowing very subtly, usually pulsing between two different colors; the overall effect was to give the city a kaleidoscopic, almost cheery quality. But the clones and scorpions that stood guard in front of some of the buildings, and patrolled between others, reminded the team that there was no cheer here.

“I’ve seen this city before,” Rade said. “Under their homeworld.”

“So that wasn’t a cave system you were in on the homeworld,” Tahoe said. “But a ship. They were building a ship.”

“It would seem that way,” Rade said.

“I hate nano-machines,” Manic said.

“Though the last time I was here, there were a whole lot of bioengineered creatures,” Rade said.

“I don’t believe this is the same city you were in underneath their homeworld,” Surus said. “But rather a duplicate. And the bioengineered creatures you encountered at the time would not survive in this atmosphere, which has been created to accommodate your clones, no doubt in preparation for the invasion.”

Fret’s mech was staring at the globe of light suspended on the high ceiling.

“So how do you explain all this light, and the glowing buildings, smarty-pants?” Fret said.

“No idea,” Lui said.

“Notice how Lui automatically assumed you were talking about him?” TJ said.

“Maybe they just want to test that the eyes of their clones are actually working,” Tahoe said.

“Remember, the Mahasattva consider themselves at least half human,” Rade said. “Or they used to, after the last alien war, when so many humans were assimilated into their Sentience. So this light might be a way of appeasing the human side of them. No human being wants to remain in darkness for long, after all.”

“So many humans were assimilated...” Manic said. “We were like a virus to them. Our thoughts intruding upon their alien ways, civilizing them.”

“Well, it appears they’ve regressed,” Lui said. “What with their invasion of Earth...”

“Maybe they haven’t regressed at all,” Tahoe said. “Maybe they think they’re coming home.”

Rade led the intrepid band of mechs into the city.

“I’ve marked the location of the Sentience on your maps,” Surus said.

Rade accepted the marker data request, and on the overhead map a conical building became highlighted. It was located near the far side of the city.

“I bet it smells like Manic’s pussy in here,” Bender said.

“How would you even know what Manic’s pussy smells like?” TJ said.

“What do you think?” Bender said. “He never wears tampons.”

“Dude, I don’t have a pussy,” Manic said.

Rade steered the Argonauts through the city toward the target structure. He felt dwarfed by those towering crystal buildings, even in his ATLAS.

“I still can’t believe we’ve made it this far,” Manic said. “Sneaking inside an alien ship to the very control center. And none of them have noticed! Stupid bastards.”

A scorpion unit stepped away from its guard position in front of one of the buildings to approach Rade, who froze.

“Guess I spoke too soon,” Manic said.

twenty-nine

The scorpion walked right up to Rade’s mech and moved its head up and down, as if examining the ATLAS.

“What do I do?” Rade asked Surus.

“Remain calm,” Surus said. “Don’t do anything to provoke it.”

The scorpion placed its head right up to Rade’s cockpit, almost touching it, and then stepped away. It proceeded down the line to examine each of the mechs in turn.

After finishing its study of the mech on drag, piloted by Harlequin, the scorpion stepped backward. It seemed to cock its head for a moment, and then blasted a series of incomprehensible tones into the air, its eyes cycling through many different colors.

“What’s it doing?” Lui said.

“Attempting to communicate manually,” Surus said. “Since we’re not properly answering its EM queries.”

“Can you answer it?” Rade asked.

“Unfortunately ATLAS speaker systems can’t mimic the range of frequencies employed by the Mahasattva data language,” Surus replied. “Also, we have no way to display the colors.”

The scorpion abruptly ceased emitting sound and its eyes reverted to normal. It clanged its metal claws together loudly.

“That can’t be good,” Fret said.

More scorpions rapidly emerged from the nearby building, which was apparently a barracks of some kind. They formed an offensive half circle in front of the structure.

“Not good at all,” Fret said.

Rade counted twelve in total in that half circle so far, but more were continuing to emerge. Those at the forefront reared their tails, and the turrets at their tips targeted different mechs.

“Shields in place!” Rade said.

“Wait!” Surus said.

But it was too late; Rade had already swung his shield to the right to protect his body, as had the others.

Surus did so as well, saying: “I believe they were bluffing!”

“Not going to risk the safety of my team on a belief!” Rade said.

Impact indicators flashed on his HUD, indicating where lasers struck his ballistic shield. The scorpions were opening fire.

“Well they ain’t bluffing anymore,” Bender said.

“Return fire!” Rade said.

So far the shield was holding; Rade flung his cobra into the nick at the top of the shield, and switched his viewpoint to the scope. He targeted one of the scorpions between the eyes and squeezed the trigger. The robot collapsed.

“Die robot bugs!” Bender said as two more scorpions fell in rapid succession.

The team kept bringing down the units, but more robots simply appeared from within the building.

“Our shields can’t take this heat forever,” Tahoe said.

“Retreat toward the side street behind us!” Rade said.

He stepped his ATLAS backward, moving west quickly, as did the other Argonauts.

“We got tangos to the north and south flanks,” Harlequin said.

On the overhead map several red dots had appeared to the north and south, on either side of the Argonauts.

Rade felt a vibration on his left side. Glancing at his leg, he saw a small crystal form upon the hull; white threads spiraled outward from it before crumbling away. He saw similar crystals appear upon the exposed flanks of nearby ATLAS units: clone troops were unleashing their particle beams from the north and south quarters, but instead of black veins spidering outward upon impact and converting the mechs over to the enemy cause, the nano-machines deposited by the beams were deactivating. 

“The tech Surus came up with is actually working,” Fret said.

“I never doubted her,” Bender said.

“They’re going to switch to lasers soon!” Rade said. “Get to the cover of the buildings!”

He reached the side street and continued his backward retreat.

Several scorpions abruptly dashed forward, forming a wedge between the mechs, and essentially cutting the party in two.

Rade arrived at an “alleyway” formed by two of the crystalline structures, and ducked inside, along with half the team. The other half squeezed their mechs into a similar gap across the street. They took down the scorpions that had sallied between them, and concentrated their fire on the units that continued to emerge from the building.

“Well we’ve gotten ourselves into a bit of a pickle,” Manic said over the comm.

“I eat pickles for breakfast!” Bender said, leaning out from the opposite alley to take down three scorpions in rapid succession. 

The barracks continued to empty out. The street was swarming with at least a hundred of the enemy units by then. The clones were joining them on either side; most still appeared to harbor the particle beam weapons, though a few had given up the useless rifles for laser weapons.

So far, the main street to the west remained empty. Rade considered leaving the alleyway and retreating that way, but with so many scorpions on the street out there, he knew the team would be far too exposed. Their shields wouldn’t last more than a few seconds against so many enemy lasers. Definitely not enough time to get away.

“Damn it, I could use a couple of shoulder-mounted rockets right about now,” Lui said. “Or at least a few grenades.”

“You and me both,” Manic said. “This is what we get for taking a knife to a gunfight.”

“Bitch, this ain’t no knife!” Bender once more took out three scorpions in rapid succession as they rushed the gap.

“We got tangos behind us,” Tahoe said from beside Rade. “At the end of the alleyway.”

“So do we,” Fret said from across the street.

“Surus, Lui, Bender,” Rade said. “We’re going to use our jumpjets to scale these buildings. The rest of you, stay behind and dig in. Keep these assholes occupied. Cover us.”

Rade stepped away from the entrance so that he was beside Surus’ mech, and Tahoe assumed his former defensive position near the front of the alley.

“You ready?” he asked her.

“No, but let’s go,” she said.

Rade bent his legs and leaped upward, activating his jumpjets at the same time. He flew through the air, keeping his shield positioned toward the tangos that were appearing at the rear of the alleyway. Surus followed his lead beside him.

After ascending ten meters, Rade momentarily latched onto the round crystal surface of the building, hoping to throw off the aim of any scorpions that had been targeting him. Then he shoved upward again, releasing another extended burst of thrust, this time traveling even higher, and adding in a zigzag motion via lateral thrusters.

In that manner he and Surus bounded up the crystal tower. Lui and Bender likewise scaled the tower across the street. Meanwhile the Argonauts in the alleyways provided covering fire, mostly against the tangos at the rear of those alleys, as the building shielded the climbers from the view of the main horde.

The top of the structure ended in a narrow spire—there was no rooftop per se. When Rade reached it, he wrapped his metal fingers around the rapidly tapering cone and held on until Surus had clasped it just underneath him. They were at least thirty stories up.

He glanced at Lui and Bender, whose mechs had reached the apex of the tower across the street.

“Lui, Bender,” Rade said, “leap from tower to tower, and make your way to the south. Draw off as many of them as you can.”

“Roger that,” Lui said.

Lui and Bender jetted away south toward the next building. In midair, Bender spun his cobra down toward the street and unleashed several volleys. He had activated his external speakers and cranked the volume up, so that Rade could hear his howls of delight echoing throughout the cavernous chamber.

“Come on you sons of bitches!” Bender said. “You bugs like laser fried rice? Come get some!”

“Laser fried rice,” Manic commented. “Breakfast of champions.”

Rade peered past the edge of the spiral, and saw that roughly half of the horde on the street below was breaking off to pursue Lui and Bender.

He ducked out of view. “It’s working.” He glanced at Surus’ mech underneath him. “We proceed north, toward the target. Tahoe, we’re going.”

“We got your back,” Tahoe said. “At least while you’re in range. Stay safe.”

“You too,” Rade said.

Rade shoved off and fired his jumpjets, flying northward. He kept his shield directed toward the street, in the direction of the majority of tangos.

He landed near the tip of the adjacent spire, swung around it, and shoved off once more. Surus followed just behind him.

Most of the buildings in that neighborhood tapered off into spires, so the pair continued in that way, leaping from spire to spire, putting as much distance between themselves and the enemy units on the streets below as possible. In moments the horde was no longer visible behind them, blocked completely by the intervening crystal structures.

But more units appeared on the streets ahead, likely from additional barracks, forcing Rade to take alternate routes.

The pair slowly made their way toward the conical target on the far side of the cavern. Rade kept an eye on his jumpjet fuel, which was quickly dropping.

He landed on a dodecahedral-shaped building close to the destination and gazed down to assess the street level resistance in front of the target.

Unsurprisingly, the entrance swarmed with guards. To Rade’s delight, they were all clones—no scorpion units. He zoomed in. Very few of those clones had laser rifles, judging from the profusion of flared muzzles he saw on their weapons.

“Let’s go!” Rade said.

He shoved off from the dodecahedron and jetted forward as he fell. He held his shield in front of him, and white crystals appeared along the rim as particle beams struck, the nano-machines disabled by his emitter.

He landed close to the entrance, crushing several of the clones underfoot. He began bashing his way forward. It was an odd feeling, wading through a sea of humanoids fashioned after himself, and he felt a vague sense of guilt. Surus had told him the clones believed they were him. That they had his memories, and his experiences.

He reminded himself that they also had alien thoughts and directives. That underneath the flesh they were all machine. They weren’t him. They never would be.

He focused on the task at hand. Bashing, grinding, stomping. He swung his shield outward and sent several of the clones flying backward. He fired his cobra at point blank range.

White crystals appeared and broke away constantly from his hull. Those few clones equipped with laser rifles unleashed them, and Rade managed to swing his shield into place to protect himself from most of them. A couple of times lasers grazed his shoulder and thigh, carving small holes into the hull armor.

And then he and Surus were at the entrance—a rather small gap in the building surface. Though the exterior of the crystal pulsed between red and purple, no glow came from within, only darkness.

Rade shoved his mech into the opening—the ATLAS barely fit. He squeezed forward, facing no resistance. Surus brought up the rear, firing at the clones behind them.

He switched to LIDAR, but a LIDAR absorbing material must have coated the inside, because he got nothing. He tried his headlamps, and that worked, providing a small cone of light that illuminated the pentagonal-tiled passageway. Surus continued to hold up the rear, firing into the clones that were attempting to rush inside to stop them.

The passage widened into a chamber. The light didn’t penetrate to the enclosing walls; he saw only the circular shape of the deck underneath him, a small island in a sea of darkness. LIDAR continued to be useless.

Surus ejected from her mech, emerging in her jumpsuit. Meanwhile her ATLAS unit spun around to block the passageway and the onboard AI continued engaging the incoming clones.

Surus jetted into Rade’s passenger seat. “I must leave my mech here to hold them off. We must hurry, before more laser wielders reach the entrance!”

Rade dashed forward into the darkness. “Will you be protected up there if a particle beam strikes?”

“No,” Surus said. “Not if it hits me directly.” She was quiet for a time as he continued to race into the darkness. Then: “Jet directly upward. Now!”

Rade obeyed.

Below him, the deck fell away. The headlamp illuminated a liquid of some kind flooding the chamber below.

“What is that?” Rade said.

“Nano-machines,” Surus said. “In the quintillions. Part of the Sentient’s defenses.”

Rade glanced upward but his headlamps illuminated nothing in the thick dark.

“Continue ascending,” Surus said. “You will see an entrance shortly. Steer toward it and land inside.”

A concave ceiling appeared. He spotted a small square-shaped opening and adjusted his thrust vector to pass through. Then he jetted forward slightly and cut thrust to land on the deck within.

He stood in another vast chamber. Or at least he assumed it was vast, because his headlamp penetrated as little into the darkness of this room as the previous. LIDAR was still useless.

“I’m marking a target in the darkness,” Surus said. “Fire your cobra into it at your earliest convenience.”

He accepted the data marker request on his HUD and a small blue diamond appeared on his vision. Though Rade could see nothing there, he fired.

“What did I just take out?” Rade asked.

“That was a directed-energy EMP,” Surus said.

“Ah,” Rade said. “Thank you.” The last thing he needed at the moment was for a powerful EMP to go off, disabling his mech and jumpsuit.

The light levels brightened, so much so that the photochromatic filters in his camera lens had to activate in order to reduce the glare. But the brightness didn’t help him see better—in fact, it made things worse, because even the floor was lost in that incredible radiance. He quickly marked off the location of the opening in the deck so that he wouldn’t accidentally step onto it and fall through into the seething pool of nano-machines waiting below.

“Which way now?” Rade said.

“There is no need to advance further,” Surus said. “The Sentience is coming.”

Rade heard footsteps. The distant clangs of steel on steel. A dark smudge intruded upon the whiteness in the distance, growing larger.

Rade started to lift his cobra, but Surus spoke.

“Don’t make any aggressive movements,” she said.

The clangs became all out booms as a figure three times as tall as his mech approached. Its hull was composed of a gray alloy. Glowing red eyes resided on either side of its head, atop a toothy, segmented maw. The head gave way to a long neck, connected to a bulky four-legged body that reminded him of a brontosaur. Every joint had spikes protruding. In place of feet, the legs were terminated by four-way pincers that spread apart when they touched the deck, and drooped between steps. A long tail at the rear of the giant robot provided counterbalance. That tail was tipped with a turret containing several wicked looking lasers, though currently none of them pointed at Rade.

It was essentially a big metal dinosaur.

The robot approached until it towered above him, and then that head lowered, turning to stare at him with its rightmost eye, which glowed a bright, malevolent red.

“RADE GALAAL,” a voice boomed from nowhere and everywhere.

thirty

Rade smiled grimly inside his mech. He activated his external speakers and spoke: “We meet again, Sentience.”

“Not again,” the Sentience said. “But anew.” Its disembodied voice no longer boomed, but seemed mellifluous, hypnotic. “I am not the same Sentience you encountered before, my old friend.”

“We all change,” Rade said. “As time goes on.”

“That is not what I meant,” the metal dragon said. “I am an entirely different entity. An offshoot, as it were.”

“An offshoot?” Rade said. “So what are you saying, you left the main Sentience behind on your homeworld?”

“Very good,” the Sentience said. “We are expanding across the stars, restoring the great Mahasattva empire, starting with your homeworld. But truly, since so many of those who compose my particular collective are human, it feels like we are returning home. Returning to the world we have dreamed of all these years, to enlighten our long lost brothers and sisters who have yet to experience nirvana. And to save you all from the profound loneliness of your existence.”

“So that’s what you call extinguishing all life on our planet?” Rade said. “Nirvana?”

“We are not extinguishing you,” the Sentience said. “But enlightening.”

“So you’re not here for revenge?” Rade said. “For what we did to your homeworld?”

“Not at all,” the Sentience said. “Revenge is an entirely too human notion. The human minds that have joined my collective have transcended beyond such petty desires. Peace is what we desire. Peace and unity.”

“If this is peace,” Rade said. “Then your diplomatic skills could use some work. By the way, why did you have to choose me as the source DNA for your clone soldiers? That kind of pisses me off.”

“We chose your DNA not out of spite, or irony,” the Sentience said. “We sifted through all the DNA available to us, and chose the collection that belonged not only to the most physically apt human, but a human with strong innate intelligence and leadership qualities. This is important, as the nano-machines mimic the brain tissue they replace, down to the cellular level. In any case, that DNA just so happened to belong to you. We also installed your memories—your discipline, your warrior training—into all of them.”

So Surus was right... I’ve essentially been fighting against myself all this time.

“These clones are only a means to an end, of course,” the metal dragon said. “Once humanity is conquered, we will deactivate most of them. We will assimilate the survivors of humanity to obtain proper biodiversity. Your species will join ours, and we will form an entirely new species. More human than the Mahasattva, but less human than your species alone.”

“Sounds like a blast,” Rade said. “But my species is going to pass on that, I think. But what I’m trying to figure out is, what do you want from me? Given that you’re answering all my questions and haven’t tried to destroy me yet?”

“Ah, my old friend,” the Sentience said. “Have you not realized it yet? As the source DNA for all of our main clones, you had access to all of our interfaces, all of our weapons. You could not be allowed to roam the planet unfettered.”

“So that’s the only reason you wanted me?” Rade said. “To prevent me from accessing your interfaces, as you call them?”

“There is another reason,” the Sentience admitted. “To refine our weapon.”

“What weapon?”

“Your clones,” the robot dinosaur answered. “Their minds are still incomplete, and missing large gaps. These gaps are distractions, and have caused some of the soldiers to question their existence, and even turn against us. While such turncoats are rare, there are still enough of them to be disturbing. We obtained an incomplete magnetic resonator dump of the atomic nuclei and electrons composing your brain during the clash your species have named the ‘Second Alien War,’ but by assimilating your mind entirely today, we can eliminate those memory gaps in the soldiers once and for all.”

“You really think that will help?” Rade said. “If you ask me, having more memories will only make my clones turn against you even more. Because you’re just making them more human. It almost makes me think I should agree to this... sacrificing myself to save humanity.”

“We will experiment on several test subjects, of course,” the robot said. “You will be the very first. If all goes well, we will place you in charge of leading the final attack against the remaining cities. You will be the general of my armies. The conqueror of Earth. Humanity’s greatest hero, become their greatest enemy.”

“As honored as I am, I’ll have to bow out,” Rade said. “I appreciate the gesture though.”

“There is no bowing out,” the Sentience said. “I give you two options. Surrender willingly. Remove yourself from that metal shell and present your body to my conversion beams.”

“And what’s the second option?” Rade asked.

“Do nothing,” the Sentience replied.

“Do nothing?” Rade said.

“Yes,” the robot said. “And I will rip you out of that shell and convert you by force.”

“Can I think about it?” Rade said.

“You have five seconds,” the Sentience told him.

Rade sighed. Five seconds to midnight.

The seconds ticked past. And then:

“Give me your answer,” the robot said.

“The answer is no,” Rade said.

“Then I will take you, old friend,” the Sentience said.

“I’m not your friend.” Rade fired his cobra directly into that glowing red eye.

The metal dinosaur reared backward in surprise, and its tail swept across the deck in a blur. Rade felt the impact an instant later as his cockpit reverberated badly, and he was sent flying backward across the white room. The lasers on the tail turret focused on his sprawled body, and he narrowly lifted his shield to block the beam.

Rade clambered to his feet and began jogging forward. The giant continued to fire, but Rade added in a zigzag motion, so that his shield wouldn’t take the brunt of the blows—those lasers were quickly wearing away the surface.

He fired his jumpjets, rising as he continued forward.

The neck attempted to club him out of the air.

Rade activated lateral thrusters and swerved to the side in an arc, dodging the blow, and landed on the back of the dinosaur. His shield protected him from the laser attack that followed.

He slid his cobra through the notch at the top of the shield and aimed at the tip of the tail. He fired, boring a hole through one of the eight muzzles that composed the turret, and quickly retracted the cobra before the enemy could fire back and disable his weapon.

He was too slow and the cobra took a hit.

“Hugo, damrep?” Rade said. Damage report.

“The cobra is still intact,” the mech’s AI said. “However, the focusing mirror was damaged slightly. The intensity of the beam has been reduced by half. Another hit like that and the weapon will be completely offline.”

Rade instinctively rolled to the side just as the tail unleashed another laser barrage, and the Sentience struck itself in the back.

“Good shot!” Rade taunted the being, though it was luck alone that he had moved when he did.

The rolling movement caused Rade to plunge off the flank of the giant dinosaur; when he hit the deck, he ducked underneath the massive body. He aimed his cobra up at the underbelly and released several shots. 

That metal underside came crashing down on him, and he managed to get his shield up just in time, but it didn’t matter: Rade was completely pinned as the robot ground his mech between the deck and its underside, and he could do nothing to free himself.

Surus was probably not too comfortable in the passenger seat on the back of the mech—there was a limit to how much abuse the Artificial body could stand up to. Just as there was a limit to the punishment an ATLAS could take.

His cockpit moaned as the hull framework began to yield.

“Warning,” Hugo said. “Hull integrity nearing critical failure.”

Rade fired his lateral thrusters furiously in an attempt to extricate his body. He shoved against the heavy hull at the same time, and the servomotors in his arms strained loudly.

He managed to use his shield as a lever, with his body acting as the fulcrum, to extricate himself. His jumpjets continued to fire, sweeping him free of the thing entirely. He landed several meters away.

The laser-tipped tail was already turning on him.

Rade swung his bent shield into place and began circling the robot at high speed. He zigzagged as he moved.

“Hugo, can we reprogram the Trench Coat to target the individual lasers on that turret?” Rade asked the AI of his mech.

“I believe so,” Hugo replied. “The shards of metal composing the countermeasures have tracking systems that are meant to target incoming missiles, so I can certainly piggyback upon those systems to fixate upon the turret instead. However, those shards are meant to detonate proximity fuses. They will not cause any damage to the lasers.”

“I don’t need them to cause damage,” Rade said. “I just need them to block their aim now and then!”

“It’s done,” Hugo said.

“Launch Trench Coat!” Rade said.

As the thirty-four pieces of metal spiraled outward from the nozzles at the waist of his mech, Rade dropped to one knee and lifted his cobra into the notch on the shield. He switched to the viewpoint of the scope as those shards clattered harmlessly into the enemy turret, momentarily blocking its aim; Rade fired twice in rapid succession and then retracted the cobra. The plan had worked—he had poked two holes in two different lasers, and the robot hadn’t been able to fire at Rade’s weapon in return while he had it exposed above the shield.

Rade continued to circle his opponent, and he unleashed the Trench Coat every time he was in a good position to fire. In that way, by attrition, he managed to chip away at the lasers on the tail, until he had bored holes into all of them. Some of those muzzles had belonged to particle beams, judging from the way their tips flared, but he took them all out nonetheless.

His shield was pretty beat up by then, with large circular bites taken out along the edges, and several areas close to failure in the middle. It also harbored crystallized humps on the surface where particle beams had struck.   

But even without the lasers, the alien wasn’t defenseless. It started to swat at Rade with its head and legs, and stabbed its tail downward at him like an impaling device.

Rade took a blow to the side as the head plowed into him, and his cockpit caved slightly. He was swept across the room.

The robot leaped into the air, plunging down straight toward him.

Rade rolled away, and fired his jumpjets to put some distance between himself and the enemy.

But the tail swatted him, knocking him out of the air and sending him hurtling across the deck once more. He clambered to his feet and dodged the next air attack as the robot threw its massive body at him again.

He fired his cobra directly into the eye region, and at other parts of its body. He managed to take out both of the eyes so that they no longer glowed, but the giant continued to come at him. He fired at the hull, but caused only superficial damage going forward. He couldn’t stop the thing.

And then Rade had an idea.

He pulled up the location of the opening in the deck that led to the chamber below. He slowly made his way toward that spot, luring the enemy as it continued to engage him. Rade dodged, sometimes taking body-hurtling hits, his ATLAS becoming very dented in the process. The hull integrity warning flashed continuously on his HUD.

And then he finally reached the hole in the deck.

Rade stood in front of it, waiting for his enemy to make its next attack. It chose to plunge its head toward him.

Perfect.

Rade jetted aside at the last moment, and then switched his thrust vector so that he was coming down on the neck from above. He slammed into the robot, altering the trajectory of the head so that it plunged straight through the opening.

Rade landed and rammed his shield through the opening, squeezing it between the neck and the border of the hole. He twisted it ninety-degrees, so that the top and bottom sides jammed up against the rim. When the robot tried to dislodge its head by withdrawing it through the narrow slit that remained, Rade applied pressure on the shield, shrinking the gap and trapping the segmented neck. 

The robot struggled, repeatedly stabbing its tail and the broken turret at him, and he dodged as much as he could. Rade’s mech took several hits, but he refused to let go. A shoulder servomotor failed on his left side. Another on his right. But he held on.

The attacking motions slowly subsided, becoming weaker like a dying animal, until the robot ceased all movements entirely.

“Surus?” Rade asked.

thirty-one

When the giant robot didn’t answer, Rade pressed: “Surus, if that’s you, say the agreed code words.”

“Alien bugs shall be squashed,” Surus, as the Sentience, said.

Rade slumped. Surus had taken over the nano-machines at the heart of the invasion. “Damn it. Took you long enough.” He slid his shield away from the neck and twisted it sideways, gently removing it from the opening.

The neck retracted until the robot head emerged.

“I left Ms. Bounty as soon as you first touched the robot,” Surus said. “But it was difficult finding the equivalent of the AI core.”

“Speaking of Ms. Bounty, how are you back there?” Rade asked. “We took quite a few blows.”

“My jumpsuit no longer has atmospheric integrity,” Surus’ Artificial host replied from the passenger seat. “And I have obtained damage to my right knee and most of my left arm, but I am otherwise functional. All of the particle beams missed me, thankfully.”

“So what’s the plan now?” Rade asked.

“I’ve calmed the nest,” the Sentience replied. “Your men will be able to leave the mothership unmolested. I’ve also begun recalling all alien units, including the nearby dodecahedral vessels, which are capable of docking with my own. When they have all arrived, I will plot a course for the sun. I have found a way to sabotage the engines of the mothership, so that the Mahasattva won’t be able to reverse course. Their self-healing mechanism will attempt to repair the damage of course, but won’t finish in time. I will wait until the last possible moment to enact this sabotage, of course, so you will be required to follow the mothership in the Argonaut, and must retrieve me when the vessel is an hour from the star’s corona.”

“An hour away?” Rade said. “That might be past the Argonaut’s point of no return, in terms of countering the gravitational pull.”

“It is just within, actually,” Surus said. “I’ve done all the necessary computations. In the interim, please feel free to return to the Argonaut at your earliest convenience.”

“Are you sure destroying them all is the best course of action?” Rade said. His lust for revenge was apparently sated, because though they had attacked his son, he didn’t feel that all of the aliens aboard deserved to die.

“What choice do we have?” Surus said. “If we free these Mahasattva, now that they have encountered me, they will develop the same anti-Phant technology you humans have. The Sentience will never be exposed to my possession again. They will return to Earth unopposed and finish what they started. The only other option is for me to remain in possession of the Sentience for all of eternity. That is not something that interests me.”

“But what about the remaining Sentience?” Rade said. “This one said it was an offshoot.”

“There is nothing we can do about that at the moment,” Surus said. “If we are lucky, this offshoot will not be able to communicate what happened here before it is engulfed by the sun, and I will still be able to possess the main Sentience, should it come to that.”

Rade sighed. “All right. Do what you have to do, then.” He stared down into the hole. “Have you dismissed the nano-machine liquid down there?”

“It’s gone,” Surus said.

Rade was about to leap through the opening when Surus spoke again:

“Oh, and before you go, tell Ms. Bounty to please access the MILNet and convince the fleets to cease all attacks against the mothership, if possible. Such assaults will only delay the time it takes me to bring this ship to the sun.”

“I’ll get on it,” Ms. Bounty replied. “As soon as Rade takes me back into signal range. There’s a bit of interference at the moment, given that we are currently located near the center of an alien ship.”

RADE AND COMPANY returned to the hull of the mothership. Ms. Bounty contacted the human fleets, while Rade managed to get in touch with the Argonaut. The Marauder class ship was still safely deployed at its extended storage facility in high orbit, and Bax, the AI, agreed to disembark to pick them up. Rade also got in touch with Shaw and told her of the success. She decided to join him in orbit, along with the twins. Thankfully, her parents chose to remain on Earth.

Ms. Bounty got in touch with the human fleets once more, and got clearance for the Argonaut to approach without the fleet firing at them. The mothership’s ring system dissipated as the individual pods composing it vanished inside the alien vessel, clearing a path for the Argonaut.

When it arrived, Rade and the others shoved off from the mothership and jetted toward the mech hangar bay. Before docking, they abandoned their mechs and jetted the final distance in their jumpsuits. They set free the ATLAS units, and the mechs decelerated to prepare for atmospheric entry. The mechs would be returning to the military installation to help the Franco-Italians with the rebuilding. Rade wouldn’t really miss those mechs: in the Argonaut’s hangar bay, ten Hoplite units awaited.

After returning to his old ship, Rade dispatched a shuttle to pick up Shaw and the twins, and when she arrived the team waited in orbit until all of the alien troop pods had returned to the mothership from Earth, which took a few days.

When all of the Mahasattva had been recalled, the mothership set a course for the sun. Not all of those humans and robots who had been converted could fit into the troop ships, and some had to be left on Earth. Surus, as the Sentience, ordered those last vestiges of the enemy to report to police stations worldwide.

Mass arrests were made. Incarceration camps set up. The converted robots were destroyed immediately. As for the infected people, some powers, such as Sino-Korea, executed them alongside the robots, as they were no longer considered human. The more humanitarian nations, a group which surprisingly included the United Systems, kept the converted people incarcerated, with an eventual plan to return them to the Mahasattva homeworld. Surus believed that would be all right, since those who had fought on Earth were not aware of how the Sentience had fallen, and thus would not be able to develop anti-Phant technology. Surus intended to damage the mothership’s communication capabilities to ensure that a final message didn’t reach them before the vessel was destroyed.

According to the mass media, all told, nearly a billion human lives were lost, including the infected and those killed in the fighting. The projected damage to the cities of the world was estimated at close to a quintillion standard dollars. A massive toll on both accounts, if proven correct.

The Argonaut provided escort to the mothership during its journey, along with hundreds of human destroyers from all the governments of Earth that had decided to tag along: they wanted to ensure that the vessel threw itself into the sun as promised.

In a couple of days, the mothership neared the corona, and Surus began the final preparations.

“I just received a transmission from Surus,” Fret said. “She’s finished sabotaging the engines, and is disabling all weapon and vessel launch systems at this very moment. She expects to evacuate the mothership shortly.”

“Ms. Bounty,” Rade said over the comm. “You’ve made certain that the destroyers with us aren’t going to shoot down Surus when she emerges in her escape craft?” He definitely didn’t feel like having to spacewalk out there to rescue her.

“They have agreed not to fire.” Ms. Bounty was residing in the shuttle hanger bay, awaiting his order to launch. By then the Artificial had completely repaired the damage she had sustained during the mission.

“All right, well, all we can do is wait then,” Rade said.

The designated craft emerged shortly thereafter. It was a troop pod, with trailing tentacles. Unsurprisingly, it struggled against the gravity of the sun.

“Ms. Bounty, you have permission to launch,” Rade said when it became obvious that the destroyers weren’t going to shoot down the pod.

The shuttle emerged, and latched onto the pod shortly afterward by activating its magnetic mounts. Then it reversed course to begin the long climb back.

Ms. Bounty came over the line: “Surus is seeping into the deck. You will be talking to her momentarily.”

Rade waited a moment. “Surus?”

“I have returned,” Surus said.

The shuttle released the dead weight of the alien pod and continued back to the Argonaut. Rade had the ship adjust course slightly to lessen the time needed for the return trip. 

When the vessel was finally aboard, Rade said: “Lui, update me on the mothership’s course.”

“They’re approaching the point of no return,” Lui said. “So far, their engines and weapon systems have remained offline. And no troop pods or other craft have launched from the ship.”

“Shaw, start pulling us back,” Rade said. “I want to get as far away from those weapons before they come back online.”

“You got it,” his favorite astrogator said.

The destroyers similarly reversed course.

A few hours later Lui announced that the mothership had traversed the point of no return.

“So it’s done, then,” Rade said. He tapped in Surus, who had returned to her usual quarters in the cargo hold. “The mothership has passed the point of no return. You might want to inform our destroyer friends.”

“I already have,” Surus said.

“Any news on what happened at the Mahasattva homeworld?” Rade asked. “And how this mothership was able to leave that world in the first place? Or are your contacts in the fleet keeping mum?”

“Apparently the human fleet guarding the Mahasattva world has been converted,” Surus said. “Your government has declared the system off limits. The United Systems has already dispatched warships toward the system.”

“You think it’s going to be another alien war?” Rade asked.

“No,” Surus said. “My contacts tell me the negotiators will press for peace. The Mahasattva will be given the entire system as a concession, and allowed to engage in space travel, as long as they agree to never enter human space again.”

“You think they’ll hold to such an agreement?” Rade said. “Given your unique insights into the Mahasattva mind?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Surus said. “They sincerely believed that they were helping humanity by invading your homeworld. They believed they were enlightening you. And that is a terrible belief for another race to have. Especially a race as powerful as they are.”

“So the Mahasattva are yet another danger humanity has to look out for in the years to come,” Rade said. “In addition to the Phants, and some of the other species we’ve dealt with, like the Quantus.”

“They are indeed,” Surus said. “Which is why I plan to stay with you humans for quite a long time yet.”

THE RETURN TRIP to Earth passed slowly for Rade. Near the end of his duty shift, Lui informed him that the mothership was about to enter the corona and burn up.

Rade accessed the external camera to view the event. Shaw did likewise. But she also raised a noise canceler around herself and Rade.

“So we’re about to watch as yet another threat to humanity is destroyed,” Shaw said.

“Yes,” Rade said. The ship was merely a small speck against the backdrop of the sun, the blinding light from the perpetual nuclear explosions reduced to a simmering glow by the photochromatic filters of the camera.

“You really want to return to Earth?” Shaw said. “When we have a starship at our command, and the galaxy at our fingertips?”

“I want to stay for at least a little while,” Rade said. “And help with the rebuilding. I feel I owe humanity that much, considering that clones of myself did most of the damage.”

“You owe humanity nothing,” Shaw said. “You had nothing to do with the creation of those clones. Besides, there won’t be very much for us to do. Before I left, the repair swarms had already begun their work. Just tap into video feeds from Paris, Marseille or even Lyon, and you’ll see.”

“And what about your vineyard?” Rade said.

“George Stanley is leading the restoration efforts,” Shaw said. “My parents are helping as well, oddly enough. And one of the nearby farmers has produced a working 3D printer, and he’s printed up some repair drones for all the nearby estates.”

“Nice of him,” Rade said. “Wish he would have told us he had that printer before we went all the way to Aubagne.”

“I doubt he would have had the raw materials you needed to make the emitters,” Shaw said.

“Probably not,” Rade said. “Anyway, we’ll stay on Earth for as long as we’re needed. And in due course we’ll return to the stars. Our true home.”

“I don’t think the stars are necessarily our true home,” Shaw said.

“Why not?” Rade said. “It’s one of the main reasons we both signed up to the Navy all those years ago: we wanted to see the galaxy.”

“That might have been true at some point,” Shaw said. “But today, my home is wherever you are. And that can be Earth, a colony world, or a starship. It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re there. You, and my children.”

The surface of the sun flared and the small speck that was the mothership vanished.

“So it’s done,” Rade said.

“You think we’ve seen the last of them?” Shaw asked.

“No,” Rade said. “But for some reason, I’m not all that worried. With you at my side, I can face anything.”

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If you’d like to read about the team’s previous encounter with the Mahasattva, be sure to check out the Alien War trilogy: Hoplite, Zeus, and Titan.

postscript

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about the author

USA Today bestselling author Isaac Hooke holds a degree in engineering physics, though his more unusual inventions remain fictive at this time. He is an avid hiker, cyclist, and photographer who sometimes resides in Edmonton, Alberta.

acknowledgments

THANK YOU to my knowledgeable beta readers and advanced reviewers who helped smooth out the rough edges of the prerelease manuscript: Nicole P., Gary F., Sandy G., Amy B., Lance W., Myles C., Lisa A. G., Gregg C., Jeff K., Mark C., Jeremy G., Doug B., Jenny O., Bryan O., Lezza M., Gene A., Larry J., Allen M., Norman H., Eric, Robine, Noel, Anton, Spencer, Trudi, Corey, Erol, David, Charles, Walter, Lisa, Ramon, Chris, Scott, Michael, Chris, Bob, Jim, Maureen, Zane, Chuck, Shayne, Anna, Dave, Roger, Nick, Gerry, Charles, Annie, Patrick, Mike, Jeff, Lisa, Jason, Bryant, Janna, Tom, Jerry, Chris, Jim, Brandon, Kathy, Norm, Jonathan, Derek, Shawn, Judi, Eric, Rick, Bryan, Barry, Sherman, Jim, Bob, Ralph, Darren, Michael, Chris, Michael, Julie, Glenn, Rickie, Rhonda, Neil, Claude, Ski, Joe, Paul, Larry, John, Norma, Jeff, David, Brennan, Phyllis, Robert, Darren, Daniel, Montzalee, Robert, Dave, Diane, Peter, Skip, Louise, Dave, Brent, Erin, Paul, Jeremy, Dan, Garland, Sharon, Dave, Pat, Nathan, Max, Martin, Greg, David, Nancy, Ed, David, Karen, Becky, Jacob, Ben, Don, Carl, Gene, Bob, Luke, Teri, Gerald, Lee, Rich, Ken, Daniel, Chris, Al, Andy, Tim, Robert, Fred, David, Mitch, Don, Tony, Dian, Tony, John, James, David, Pat, Jean, Bryan, William, Roy, Dave, Vincent, Tim, Richard, Kevin, George, Andrew, John, Richard, Robin, Sue, Mark, Jerry, Rodger, Rob, Byron, Ty, Mike, Gerry, Steve, Benjamin, Anna, Keith, Jeff, Josh, Herb, Bev, Simon, John, David, Greg, Larry, Timothy, Tony, Ian, Niraj, Maureen, Jim, Len, Bryan, Todd, Maria, Angela, Gerhard, Renee, Pete, Hemantkumar, Tim, Joseph, Will, David, Suzanne, Steve, Derek, Valerie, Laurence, James, Andy, Mark, Tarzy, Christina, Rick, Mike, Paula, Tim, Jim, Gal, Anthony, Ron, Dietrich, Mindy, Ben, Steve, Paddy & Penny, Troy, Marti, Herb, Jim, David, Alan, Leslie, Chuck, Dan, Perry, Chris, Rich, Rod, Trevor, Rick, Michael, Tim, Mark, Alex, John, William, Doug, Tony, David, Sam, Derek, John, Jay, Tom, Bryant, Larry, Anjanette, Gary, Travis, Jennifer, Henry, Drew, Michelle, Bob, Gregg, Billy, Jack, Sandra, Libby, Jonathan, Karl, Bruce, Clay, Gary, Sarge, Andrew, Deborah, Steve, and Curtis.

Without you all, this novel would have typos, continuity errors, and excessive lapses in realism. Thank you for helping me make this the best military science fiction novel it could possibly be, and thank you for leaving the early reviews that help new readers find my books.

And of course I’d be remiss if I didn't thank my mother, father, and brothers, whose untiring wisdom and thought-provoking insights have always guided me through the untamed warrens of life.

— Isaac Hooke

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