Berserker (Messenger Book 2) Read online

  The faint shimmer... it folds and waves

  Omega was seated on a rusty chair in front of a rusty desk, his coat flung over the back of his seat, wearing a more comfortable A-shirt and field trousers. His fingers danced over the holographic keyboard of his pocket computer, his eyes darting over shimmering diagrams, data dumps, and source code. All around him lay the bare concrete of the windowless storage complex that had been repurposed as a makeshift barracks. He shared his room with two other officers from 15 Squadron, but both of them were currently away on duty. He was taking advantage of the opportunity to go over the Tsubasa's activity logs from the drop and subsequent battles to capture Artair County. Based on the suit's performance data, he was making tweaks to the operational software so that he would be able to control it more efficiently on future missions.

  In truth, Omega was devoting so much attention to his duties partly to distract himself from unsettling thoughts that had been dogging his mind since the drop. For instance, his performance during the battle; or perhaps more accurately, his state of mind. That a top rated augment would perform so well in the field was no surprise, even if he was a rookie with no previous combat experience. What seemed unnatural was his composure; how easily he had carved through hordes of enemies, both man and machine, without remorse. As if it was a routine that he had done countless times before.

  It was perplexing. Omega knew that his augmentations had a role in regulating his emotions, but that alone could not account for it. Alpha was also an augment, the same as him, and she had likewise performed well in her inaugural mission. But she had been noticeably shaken after the battle, displaying typical symptoms of shock, horror, and regret, even if they had been muted by her emotional regulators. Even many of the veterans had been more shaken than Omega by the intensity of the fighting.

  So why? What made him different?

  Omega had a theory about that—a vile, disquieting theory. But there was no way to prove it, and even if he was correct, there was nothing he could do about it. So he absorbed himself in preparation for the next mission, still convinced by an irrational certainty that he would meet his end on this artificial world, half a billion kilometers away from home.

  As Omega applied some adjustments to the aiming parameters for the Tsubasa's particle cannon, a blaring alarm caused him to sit bolt upright. A moment later, an operator's voice crackled over the intercom.

  “Attention all personnel. A biological hazard has been detected within the factory district. All personnel are to observe emergency quarantine procedures. Drone teams have been dispatched to sterilize the facility. You are to withdraw to your assigned quarters and remain under confinement until further notice. Any personnel attempting to leave the factory district without authorization will be terminated. Repeat...”

  Omega considered the possibilities. Could it be a terrorist attack? He connected his pocket computer to a wall cable and accessed the military network. When he found no information about the outbreak, he considered trying to hack his way into a deeper clearance level. Before he could make the attempt, the door burst open and Alpha ran inside, her eyes wide with alarm. Omega got to his feet and returned her anxious stare impassively.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked. “The orders are to stay in our quarters.”

  “Have you heard what's going on?” Alpha asked breathlessly.

  “No.” Omega gestured to his computer. “I was just trying to find out.”

  “It's Messenger syndrome.”

  Omega's face twitched.

  “There was an outbreak among the prisoners that surrendered the other day,” Alpha went on. “Now it's spread to the guards. There's panic everywhere.”

  It took only an instant for Omega to snap to a decision. He grabbed his sidearm out of his foot locker and started for the door. “We need to go.”

  Alpha didn't move. “But H.Q. just issued a quarantine. They've dispatched drones to eliminate the infected—”

  Omega grabbed her by the shoulder and looked her straight in the eyes. “The only reason they want us in our quarters is to make it easier for the drones to kill us all. Did you read the briefings on Messenger syndrome? They have no way of telling who's infected without exposing themselves to the outbreak. By the time symptoms start to manifest, it's too late. The only way to be sure is to eliminate everyone who might have been infected.”

  Alpha's fear showed clearly on her face as she took in Omega's words.

  “Speaking of which.” Omega tightened his grip on Alpha's shoulder. “Have you had any exposure to the prisoners?”

  “No!” Alpha tore herself free of Omega's grip. “I haven't been anywhere near the stockade.”

  “Neither have I,” Omega said. “We should be clean. But I don't think the drones are likely to care. The only way out of this death trap is to escape before either the drones or the Messengers find us.”

  “But they said that anyone leaving the district will be killed,” Alpha objected.

  “That I can deal with,” Omega said. “But there's no way to fight Messenger syndrome. I'm evacuating the area. You can come or stay; your choice.”

  Omega bolted into the hallway. After a moment's hesitation, Alpha followed.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “To our exosuits,” he replied. “Radiation shielded cockpits and high mobility. They're our best chance.”

  With Alpha tagging along, Omega proceeded swiftly through the labyrinth of corridors that wound through the former storage chambers, making his way toward a secondary exit on the side of the building. As he neared his destination, an agonized scream echoed from up ahead. A half dressed soldier stumbled into view at the intersection ahead of them, only to be cut down by a laser.

  “Not that way.” Omega doubled back and altered course toward the main factory floor.

  Alpha glanced over her shoulder as she jogged behind him. “I can't believe it,” she panted. “You were right. They're killing everyone.”

  Soon, the mechanical hum and metallic clangs of industrial machinery, coupled with an odor of oiled metal, signaled that they were approaching the factory floor. They bolted around the next corner and emerged in a vast chamber clogged with automated manufacturing stations. Rather than take the long way to the open doorway on the far side, Omega timed a leap through the nearest machine to avoid being crushed by the metal beams being slammed and welded together. Alpha followed an instant later.

  The two augments threaded their way through the machines sprawled across the floor, ducking through swinging plates and huge, swiveling arms unconcerned with their presence, when they heard the staccato of rotor blades from above. Omega looked up and saw an aerial drone scanning the floor for targets. He dove for cover behind a metal divider, narrowly avoiding several shots from the drone. Alpha followed a second later, dropping next to Omega with a cry of pain.

  “Are you hit?”

  Omega knelt over Alpha and saw that a needle had pierced clean through her gut. Alpha grabbed the needle and ripped it free with a scream of pain, then tossed the bloodied round to the floor. Blood pooled under her body, but already her augmented healing was clotting the wound and pumping chemicals to dull the pain.

  “Can you stand?” Omega asked.

  Alpha leaned on him for support and staggered to her feet. “I'll be OK,” she said through gritted teeth.

  A light fell upon the augments and the flying drone hovered into view around the divider. They ran around the divider just in time to avoid another burst of needles and bolted for the exit, Alpha staggering as her enhanced physiology struggled to cope with her wound. The whir of rotor blades kept close on their tail as the drone gave pursuit.

  Omega considered how to deal with their robotic pursuer. His programming prohibited deliberate harm to his own allies, including drones. He would have to find more indirect means to eliminate the target. He looked from side to side in search of anything he could use against the drone until his gaze fell upon a piston slamming
half assembled automobile frames together.

  He grabbed Alpha and pushed her underneath a nearby cluster of hoses. “Hide,” he ordered. “I'll draw its attention. If I get taken out, try to make your way to the exosuits without me.”

  Alpha opened her mouth to protest, but Omega was already bolting away. He drew his pistol and fired several shots in the direction of the drone, deliberately missing it to avoid triggering his compulsory programming. The drone swiveled toward him and he rolled out of the way of another salvo of flesh ripping needles.

  Omega took a circuitous route to the piston, always keeping cover between himself and the drone, firing occasional shots to keep its attention. Finally, he reached the piston and positioned himself so that it lay directly between him and his pursuer. He fired two more shots in the drone's direction, pulling it toward him, then his gun clicked and the slide locked in the open position. Out of ammunition, he shoved it back in its holster and backed slowly away, luring the drone closer.

  The drone emitted a pneumatic hiss and Omega reflexively threw up one arm and dropped onto his back. Most of the needles flew over his head, but one lodged in his forearm, deflecting off his hardened bone and erupting from his skin at a 90 degree angle. The next instant, the drone flew under the piston and was instantly pulverized. Detecting a malfunction in the manufacturing process, the assembler shunted the incomplete automobile onto a belt that conveyed it into another room for manual inspection.

  His forearm shaking from the rapidly receding pain, Omega ripped both halves of the broken needle free of his flesh and tossed them at his feet. Blood leaked copiously from the jagged wound, but he trusted his enhanced healing to staunch the flow in short order. He made his way back to where he had left Alpha and found her still hiding underneath the cluster of hoses.

  “I took care of it,” he said. “Let's go.”

  Alpha emerged from her hiding place and her gaze fell on Omega's bloody forearm. “You're hurt.”

  “Don't worry about it,” he replied. “That's what augmentations are for.”

  As they made their way toward the glow of the open doorway, a gunshot cracked from outside. Omega pressed himself against the wall, leaned around the corner, and surveyed the terrain outside the doorway. An expanse of bare concrete surrounded the factory, ringed by more rugged industrial structures. Omega spotted two snipers clad in radiation shielded hazmat suits standing atop the buildings, then his gaze alighted on a dark pile near the edge of the courtyard. It was a body. Even from this distance, he recognized the grotesque growths and deformations that signaled a victim of advanced Messenger syndrome.

  He pulled back behind the wall and turned to Alpha. “That sniper did us a favor,” he said. “A Messenger was trying to get outside. Chalice's atmospheric composition causes heavy attenuation to repil radiation, which gives us some leeway, but if that thing got much closer we could have been infected.”

  “That 'thing' was a human,” Alpha replied. “Are you sure we're safe, just because he's dead?”

  “If the briefings are accurate, the emission of repil radiation ceases immediately upon death.” Omega turned his gaze back to the courtyard. “But we've got other problems. The instant we step outside, those snipers will drop us just like they dropped that Messenger. Even with our enhancements, I don't like our odds of outrunning their bullets.”

  “What about that?”

  Alpha gestured behind her. Omega followed her gaze to a line of completed automobiles being conveyed out the side of the factory.

  “I like the way you think.”

  Omega walked up to one of the cars and opened the door. He crawled inside and laid down on the floor of the back seat. The click and thud of another door told him that Alpha had climbed into the car behind his.

  He waited. The dimness gave way to a flood of light as the rail conveyed the car outside, but from the floor, Omega could see nothing but dusty sky. After several minutes, there was a jolt as the car was shunted off the rail into a holding space. Omega waited a few more moments to make sure the car was completely stopped, then he sat up and took stock of his surroundings.

  The completed cars were being conveyed to a holding area adjacent to the factory. Omega spotted the same snipers he had seen earlier off to the left and exited through the car's right door. Alpha emerged from the car next to his and the two of them crouched behind their vehicles to remain hidden from the sentinels.

  Keeping low, the augments maneuvered through the sea of freshly minted cars until they reached the perimeter of the holding area. They darted into a nearby alleyway and ran through the warren of narrow passages between the factory complexes, emerging in an expansive lot that the 323rd Regiment was using to park some of its exosuits. A pair of marines in hazmat suits stood guard at opposite sides of the lot.

  “I don't suppose we'll be able to bluff our way past the guards with these injuries,” Omega said. “And I don't think we're likely to subdue two armed marines when we're prohibited from causing them any direct harm. Let's try to sneak past them and board our suits.”

  Alpha seemed hesitant at first, then her normally delicate features hardened in determination. “Very well. I'll follow your lead.”

  Omega waited until the nearer guard turned away before darting out of the alley, with Alpha hot on his heels. They hid behind the nearest exosuit, trying to stay out of sight of both of the guards. They made their way toward their suits in stages, using the other parked exosuits for cover, always careful not to move until they were well outside both guards' fields of view.

  Finally, the augments reached their exosuits, which were kneeling in repose position. They quickly opened the canopies, climbed inside, and powered up. By the time the guards noticed the hum of the engines, the canopies were already closing. They fired their battle rifles, but the light rounds were useless against the reinforced hulls of the exosuits.

  Omega opened a channel to Alpha's suit and cycled through his status readouts. “Fuel tanks about half full,” he reported. “Looks like the mechanics completed most of the repairs. Weapons are fully rearmed except the annihilation cannon. Just one antimatter canister left. What about you?”

  “More or less the same,” Alpha replied. “What do we do now? Breaking an emergency quarantine order is—”

  “A very serious offense,” a heavily accented voice broke in on the channel. The silence particles injected so much static into the transmission that it was barely intelligible. “Just what the hell do you two think you're doing?”

  “Colonel Hoang,” Omega said. “Surviving, sir. We were sitting ducks for the drones sent to purge the factory. Since neither of us has been infected—”

  “Are you sure about that?” Hoang interrupted. “Are you absolutely positive that you aren't infected?”

  Omega paused. Really, there was no way to be completely certain. The composition of Chalice's atmosphere was the only thing preventing the spread of repil radiation. A Messenger could have been lurking on the other side of a wall, sending its waves straight through the material, and no one would even know.

  “About 90% sure, Colonel,” he said.

  “Hmph,” Hoang snorted. “All right, Lieutenant. Since the cat's out of the bag, I guess there's not much use trying to cram it back in. But should you or Ensign Alpha discover that you've been infected, you are to terminate yourselves immediately. That's a direct order.”

  Those last words penetrated straight to the heart of Omega's neural control network. Without any conscious input, he heard himself and Alpha responding, “Understood, sir.”

  “Good.” Hoang let out a trembling sigh. “Those Concord wipes really put one over on us. They could never answer us on the field of battle, but with this little stunt, they've fucked over almost the entire regiment.” He paused. “A question for you, Lieutenant. How many rounds have you got left in that antimatter cannon?”

  “One.”

  “That's enough. You might think my countermeasures were too extreme, but the fact is that it wa
s too little, too late. The Messengers wandered all over the fucking place before we managed to purge them. One was even able to approach the command center. With how close it got, there's no question that my staff and I were exposed to the radiation.

  “This is my last order to you. Use your antimatter cannon to annihilate the entire factory district. It's the only way to prevent the infection from spreading now.”

  “I can't comply, sir,” Omega said. “My programming prevents me from intentionally harming allied units.”

  “Ah, yes. Of course. In that case, I hereby remove the designation of the 323rd Regiment as allies. Override code Noisy Alexander 135. Now, destroy the factory district. That's an order.”

  Once again, Omega felt his body moving without any conscious input on his part. He gunned the jets and brought his suit to a hover far above the factory district, then slowly removed the annihilation cannon from the back of his suit and took aim.

  “Omega,” Alpha's alarmed voice crackled over the speaker. “What are you doing?”

  “I'm following orders,” he replied. “If you don't want to disappear along with the 323rd, you'd better join me up here.”

  “But all those people—our own allies—”

  “There's not much time,” he interrupted her. “The antimatter canister will be primed shortly.”

  Without further objection, Alpha fired her jets and flew up next to Omega. Her floriform exosuit stared intently at his Tsubasa, its robotic face expressionless.

  “Antimatter cartridge primed,” Omega reported. “Eliminating the target.”

  He pressed the trigger. A beam of pure annihilating energy lanced from the muzzle of the cannon and penetrated deep into the ground in the center of Artair's factory district. After a pregnant pause, rivers of fire and dust carved their way through the district, spewing debris hundreds of meters into the air. The buildings began to sag and crumble into the glowing pits appearing beneath them. Then there was a blinding flash and a mountainous hemisphere of energy erupted from the epicenter of the blast, consuming everything—allies and civilians, infected and uninfected alike—with its annihilating heat.