A Fury Of Aces: Crystal Venom Part 11

Harry grinned and nudged Marko. 'They are going to be a bit b.u.g.g.e.red up after this! Fritz is treating their minds to late-twenty-first-century esoteric bra.s.s jazz. Not a fan myself.'

They settled in for a wait as high above them salvage crews started the cleanup of the crashed shuttle and the damaged building. On one of the screens the local news line was already covering the incident and the search for the sole occupant of the crashed shuttle, who was rumoured to be a media star.

Three.

Fritz was keeping them updated with developments as half an hour later a transport slid in behind the store. The two men pushed up against the walls on either side of the double doors and their chameleon-ware engaged to make them look like tall filing cabinets. The chemists pulled the doors open in time for three cryno units to be pushed in by three clean-cut executives, two of them wearing the livery of a well-known banking establishment, while a fourth older man walked behind them. The four men and the chemists smiled at each other and talked for a few moments about one of the planet's sporting team's prowess and the wagers they had on it to win the next game.

The chemists busied themselves with their electrochemicals after pulling on cryno gloves. Controlled by Fritz, by signals sent via the local media channel, they circ.u.mnavigated the locks and opened the units, lifting out Glint, Nail and Flint and placing them on tables. Three of the executives jumped in excitement, pointing to the ACEs, exclaiming how much money they would make from Basalt crew members. The older one looked ashen-faced, saying 'get rid of them quick' because he had a bad feeling about them; they were too obviously high profile. One of the younger men quickly walked across to Nail and roughly inspected the ACE, saying that he always wanted to know what s.e.x the cat actually was. They all laughed, except for the older man, who looked even more worried, complaining that they were wasting time. Marko was thankful that Nail controlled himself and did not give the game away. He smiled as he saw Fritz send the image of the obnoxious individual to the cat.

The chemists worked on the ACEs for a few minutes then said that the sentient blockers were all in place and that the ACEs were ready to take away. The cryno containers were pushed aside and, as one touched Marko, Tux made exactly the right sound of paint being sc.r.a.ped off a cabinet. One of the chemists chided the man responsible, who laughed it off. Minutes later they had bundled the ACEs into an oversized antigravity suitcase and left to go back into the tubeway.

Harry and Marko gave them a five-minute head start, reached out and pulled the skintight programmable camouflage covers off the chemists' heads and slipped out, leaving two very confused men walking around their shop wondering what had just happened to them.

'So you happy about us just being cordon control and leaving the capture and bashings to the ACEs?' Harry asked Marko as they tracked the ACEs on the tubeway.

Marko gave him wide grin. 'Oh, h.e.l.l yes! I see that Jan and Julie have dropped off their purchases and are in position.'

Harry smiled and was about to reply when Fritz spoke. 'Um, just to let ya all know. Games Board is aware of exactly where we are at. I see a bunch of their covert cameras and a few of their later model monitors moving in towards the slavers' area. Even had a chunk of electronics try to piggyback on my comms. Are we being set up again?'

The major spoke. 'f.u.c.k this! I am breaking out a Maul. Time to muddy up the game plan. Fritz, get me the clearances.'

Harry grimaced, looking worried. 'Ah, boss, a Maul? Yeah, I know we have one but isn't that taking things a bit far?'

The major barked, 'No! Fritz?'

A slightly rattled Fritz replied. 'Right, I have you clearance to fly directly from Basalt to the nearest weapons range. Takes you within a couple of kilometres of the bonded warehouse target building.'

Minutes later the major, with the background sounds of hydrogen- and oxygen-powered turbines spooling up, and weapons magazines being filled, said, 'Good enough for me!'

Marko looked at Harry and said on their private comms, 'Well, this is about to get interesting. The major flying high cover in a heavily armoured ground-support vehicle might be a bit overkill, don't you think?'

He told the tubeway capsule to stop at the next platform. Their chameleon-ware changed them into a pair of executives carrying suitcases. They exited and strode up the ramps, out onto the avenue and across to the warehouse frontage of the target buildings, to be confronted by a group of tough-looking young men. Marko did not break his stride, taking what looked like an apple from his pocket and tossing it in his hand. Each time it left his hand it softly spat tiny short-range darts which flashed across to embed themselves in the ears of the men. Each person instantly went rigid as the darts took DNA samples and broadcast them back to Harry's suitcase, and then formed themselves into earphones playing Fritz's music, which in seconds had them singing and dancing whether they wanted to or not.

Harry and Marko walked into the office s.p.a.ces of the warehouse, smiling at the occupants as long-range darts flashed out from the suitcases, quietly changing the mood and behaviour of the men and women in such a way that they welcomed Marko and Harry as friends.

Marko flashed the message Front of house secured. On the other side of the building, Jan and Julie dealt with the hardened workers and security detail by simply sitting down on one of the loading ramps until a few of the toughs told them to move on. They carried on conversing until more of them gathered at which stage Jan took out an antique powder puff to adjust her makeup - her sealed combat suit chameleon-ware was showing her dressed in replica early-twentieth-century dress. The highly narcotic dust was inhaled by the men, who found that they had a burning need for beer and seconds later simply walked off the premises towards the local bar.

Julie grinned at Jan. 'That's just no fun! We didn't break one of them!' Then she sent the message Back door secure.

Inside the warehouse, the slavers and the gang who had taken the ACEs captive gathered around the antigravity case, which opened to reveal three very awake ACEs.

The older gang member went bright red and screamed, 'I f.u.c.king told you this was a bad idea! We've been set up!' He turned to run but had not covered three paces before Flint leapt on his back and injected him. The wailing man fell to the floor and lost control of his bowels.

The other two pulled firearms from inside their waistcoats and started firing but the three ACEs effortlessly weaved though the bullets until the men were shooting at the slavers, then at each other. Both remaining gang members were hit as the slavers returned fire and combat suits deployed around them. They fought off the ACEs and retreated, although one got too close to Nail, who tore the slaver's suit open, pumping into the woman's flesh drugs which seconds later had her tearing at her own skin and screaming about the itch.

Flint leapt across to the nearest wall, racing up it to fling himself at one of the slavers, who was opening a cabinet and reaching for a shotgun. The spider s.n.a.t.c.hed it from him in full flight and then fired the weapon, propelling himself high enough in the low gravity to cling to the ceiling and keep firing at the armoured slavers. They were still trying to engage the mechanical spider as Glint, almost nonchalantly, somersaulted over them, grabbing the weapons from their hands then ripping the suits themselves open so Nail could inject them.

With the slavers all disarmed and either vomiting or s.h.i.tting themselves, or in one case both, the ACEs settled down to wait for the buyers.

Jan and Julie had taken up concealed positions on either sides of the door when two antigravity vehicles slowly came up the avenue. They let them pa.s.s as large airlock-capable doors slid open for the vehicles to drive inside. The ACEs had only just finished propping the injured humans against the wall when the vehicles came to a stop and the doors closed behind them, leaving Julie and Jan outside guarding the entrance.

Nail had just enough time to yell as the vehicle's doors opened. 'Oh, s.h.i.t! Cyans! Run!'

Five dark red-coloured, six-legged combat dogs, which looked like a cross between wolfhounds and alligators, had leapt out of the vehicle's open doors. Glint spun around and fired his spine-mounted linear rifle, tearing one completely apart as two others closed on him. He grabbed the next, tearing off a leg, as the other bit him deeply on the flank then let go after Glint started to smash it about the head with the severed leg.

Flint scuttled across, flashing open his blades, and sliced away the legs of one before he was seized by the same monster who had let Glint go. As it tried to bite into him, he simply extended his blades up and through its blocky head, slicing out its toughened teeth, and then went looking for its brain by forcing himself down through its body. As he erupted out through its back, he reached across and sliced away the barbed tail of another one that was trying to stab Glint. Glint bellowed his thanks as he then seized the creature and tore its jaw off. Punching down into its body, he simply ripped its guts out. Stepping away from the twitching remains they looked across to see scintillating colours flashing up and down Nail's body with the other two engineered animals sitting mesmerised. Nail called across and pointed at the vehicles, as one was reversing and the other was closing its doors.

'Don't let them out. I have a gift for them!'

Glint grabbed Flint and swung him onto his back; he bounded across to the door controls just as they started to activate. Flint punched one of his small fists into the circuit and a jolt of electricity blasted through them both. They crashed to the ground, smouldering, with Flint brushing smoking fur off Glint. His friend glowered at him then burst out laughing.

Nail called out again. 'Get to cover! This could go badly wrong!'

The three of them started to climb the walls as the combat dogs walked slowly back to the vehicles and tapped on the opaque windows. When they were not let in they climbed up and tore the sunroofs off, jumping down into the vehicles. An instant later all h.e.l.l broke loose within the vehicles ... screams and tearing sounds, then gunfire. Windows erupted outwards, hit by exploding bullets from within, and a human head was flung from one of the vehicles - then silence. From their vantage point Basalt's ACEs saw the slaver humans below slowly drag themselves through a door into the office area of the building and lock it behind them.

'Well, that went quite well, I think,' Glint commented.

Nail grumbled. 'Yeah, but you b.u.g.g.e.rs just don't listen. You don't have to kill a weapon. You just have to reprogram it so it will do your job and then you are clean.'

Flint said in his little voice, 'I'm all sticky and stinky. Need bathing.'

'Yes, that goes for both of you,' Nail said. 'I have sent all the DNA information on everyone we touched to Fritz. Time to go. Hold on.' He climbed across the wall until he reached a control box and jacked himself in.

Glint looked around the warehouse, noticing a large container that was slowly opening. He pointed at it. 'Hey, fellas, looks like round two is about to start!'

Nail looked hard at the emerging ma.s.s, very like thousands of little cubes tumbling over themselves. He started pounding the switches on the door controls and hissed, quickly saying, 'f.u.c.k, we're in trouble. We're sealed in with smothering tech. No matter how long or how far we run, as soon as ten of those touch us we are stuffed. Here's the file!'

He flashed the file across to the others. Glint shook his head and Flint groaned. 'Cut them and they reform, blow them to bits and the bits just become smaller, although less efficient, units. Remorseless, and when they touch us they rip the electrics away. Fire extinguishers?'

'They have only oxygen-depleting types here. No C02,' Nail replied. 'Can't electrocute them either as they just move faster when charged up. Problem is getting worse. We are blocked with comms.'

Glint spun himself around and fired a timed burst from his linear rifle at the door locks, which just dented the locks, jamming them further.

Outside the door Jan yelled at Julie. 'Someone's in trouble! That was an SOS. Right, won't be the slavers; not their style and besides, they would have control of the building. It'll be our guys. I'll get the side door, you fill in Fritz.'

She ran to the small side door as the dress she was wearing disappeared and her suit went full combat. She pulled on the handle and nothing happened to the door as a high powered rifle bullet hit her between the shoulder blades. She was smashed hard against the doorframe as the energy of the bullet was distributed around the suit, bruising her torso. The next shot hit her in the side of her helmet, snapping her head into the doorjamb while the suit absorbed the energy again. Jan rolled to the ground and acted dead for a few seconds as the suit showed her the trajectory of the bullets and their firing position. She knew that Julie was also down, seeing the flash of information from Julie and the three-second countdown before the shooters responded. In her head, Jan selected a weapon and fired it.

A long dart ripped away from her suit's upper arm and orbited quickly around the avenue, gathering speed with its tiny rockets. It split into dozens of tiny flechettes which hunted down the gunmen, impacting one after the other on precisely the same site on each of their combat suits, overwhelming them and slicing into the flesh and bone underneath.

With the gunmen down, the two women drew their rotary pistols, selected the protective ammunition and fired small hornet-like drones which circled, watching for any more hostiles.

Jan ran back to the door, pulling a fat patch off her suit and slapping it over the door lock. As the programmed molecular acid, which Marko had developed from octopoid biochemistry, activated and chewed deep into the lock, she anxiously tried to make contact with Fritz.

'Julie, I can't get Fritz. We need another comms link.'

In answer, Julie started to march towards the vehicle from which one of the gunmen had fired. She wasted no time, firing the rotary at it and blowing out the opaqued windows. Screams issued from the vehicle as two young gang members pleaded with her not to kill them. She shrugged, pulled a small needier pistol with her left hand and fired at them. The slow-moving darts embedded in their faces and they slumped to the floor. She looked into the vehicle, seeing the dead gunman and the unconscious youths and quickly searched their pockets, taking three cellular phones and pushing them into slim pockets on her suit.

She backed away to a reasonable cover position by the warehouse door and holstered the needier. She instructed the suit to plug itself into the phones when she instructed it and dial the faculty of music where Fritz was hanging out, establishing a direct link. She quickly told him, in segments, what was happening as each phone was rapidly shut down.

'Jan! I think he got the message but I was blocked fast so did not get an acknowledgment.'

'OK, if we don't get a response within two minutes we slap another patch on that door and take our chances.'

Kilometres away at the calibration range, the major received the message from Fritz via a laser link from Basalt. He saw that comms were down with all the teams, but knew that the ACEs were the priority.

He pulled up from a dive over the range, rotated the four gimballed jet turbine pods for maximum forward thrust and fed more power to the antigravity units. He selected armour-piercing munitions for the guns, and slaved the ma.s.sive, rear, copula-mounted guns to his control, not having a gunner on board the two-seater machine. Minutes later the first call from the local controller came.

'Basalt Maul. This is flight control. You are not authorised to manually fly that craft over the industrial area. Please immediately switch control to us. This is your first and final warning. You have one minute.'

The major shouted into his microphone: 'Patrick, tell everyone what is happening. Say that it is a Games Board sanctioned action. Yes, I know that this bit probably isn't, but fudge it. Fritz. Lock down local countermeasures if you can. This is going to be a near thing.'

Seconds later he was pulling up in a tight orbit over the main surface airlock into the warehouse and, hoping that the first rounds would not go straight through, fired the rotaries. The twin weapons fired thousands of rounds per minute in a metre-wide circle in the centre of one of the three intersecting airlock doors.

Inside the warehouse, Glint was ripping parts of the wall apart so the ACEs could throw masonry at the slowly climbing vine-like constructs of the smothering tech. The sudden impacts of the rounds above them gave them the impetus to keep the foe at bay for a little longer. But they also knew that the major had a metre of tough material to gnaw his way through.

In the front offices of the warehouse Harry and Marko had convinced the staff that they were wonderful people and that they - the staff and their security - should go to the local bars and have the rest of the day off. In a narcotic haze everyone agreed, even those badly knocked-about slavers who had managed to escape the ACEs in spite of the fact that they had either soiled themselves or were still heaving.

Realising that they could not contact the other crew members, Harry and Marko tried to enter the warehouse but found all the airlocks sealed. Helplessly, they watched the ACEs' battle in the warehouse through the security video screens, learning early in the peace that the Games Board had control of every camera in and out of the building. They worked long but fruitlessly on opening the surface airlock and discovered that alternative comms links had also been blocked.

Above them, local flight control was bellowing in rage at the major so he turned the radio down, hoping that the shipyard's defence measures would give him a minute's warning before firing. He watched and held his breath as Basalt's magazines slowly emptied, wishing that he had a few missiles but knowing they would probably be fatal to the ACEs even if he did have them.

The smothering tech was very close to the ACEs as a dent appeared in the airlock base, while rounds of iridium began to blast through; the air in the warehouse started whistling out through the hole, pushing the disc upwards. Glint yelled at the other two to climb onto him as he grasped the edge of the airlock joint and started to climb towards the hole in the airlock. As they neared it, Flint started to detach his rear limbs. As he programmed each one, and set them in place, they adhered to the wall and waited until the smothering tech came close, then directionally exploded, blasting the tech off the airlock to fall to the floor.

The rounds kept flashing through, almost cutting the disc clear, then the firing stopped. Minutes later Glint had them almost at the hole in the airlock where the air was now screaming out. Flint reached up, slicing through the remaining tenacious few parts of toughened steel that were hanging on, with only his front four limbs remaining.

With a bang, the final pieces dropped and Flint pulled himself up through the hole to be buffeted by the fierce wind; he pulled Nail up, then Glint himself shot up through the hole just as the first wave of smothering tech also reached the breach. The ACEs threw shattered pieces of concrete and steel at the tech, knocking individual pieces off, only to have them blasted up by the escaping air. Any pieces that touched them caused agonising burns, but they escaped serious damage as they ran from the hole towards the waiting Maul, which had three shipyard security Skuas holding it under arrest.

On Basalt, Patrick noted what Flint had done and smiled to himself as he had always wondered why the secretive Topaz had made additional sets of legs for the ACE and kept them in storage.

The inquest the next morning was held by the admiral himself. After reviewing every angle of the action and looking through the local constabulary reports he fined the major a large fee for the unauthorised use of an armed craft within a restricted area.

He then commended Basalt's crew for supplying a most entertaining piece of AV, noting that their Games Board royalties more than covered the fine. Finally, he said that he saw little need to censure the major with an entry in his official record as long as the available members of Basalt's crew attended a formal dinner that night.

Marko felt like a complete idiot and very uncomfortable in his starched uniform, complete with battle commendations and specialist decorations. Jan looked fantastic in hers, Julie and Harry looked at ease in theirs, and the major managed to look suave and sophisticated in his, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of Glint, who kept wandering in on conversations between the major and female officers to interject and generally try to throw him off his game.

Even though they were the centre of attention, Marko was bored spitless. In his entire career he had never got the hang of small talk. Consequently, he was thankful that Jan was at his side to quietly steer him through the evening.

The ACEs had been ordered to attend by the admiral, much to their delight, and the rest of the crew's disquiet.

Marko looked down at the cat, who was sitting on his feet. 'So, Nail, what are your thoughts?'

Nail looked up at him shaking his head. 'These humans are terminally stupid, Marko. They all want to take me home to see their progeny, or go on trips with them. And they all try to pat my head. I really want you to do something about that. The indignity of it. How about some sort of electrification of my fur, or maybe some nice toxic dust? Those would work. How about both: zap them, and then have them itch for a week. I now understand why so many ACEs, once they have served their indenture, take themselves off somewhere far far away. I want to bite one of these people just to see what reaction I get. Glint feels the same. He says this is a very rich hunting ground and wants many kilos of ground-up meat.'

Marko cringed and was about to say something, but Nail continued. 'He says he knows where he can find some calamari, which would also make excellent missiles. I've been marking targets for him. There are some very dumb people here. How do they get to be where they are? See that woman over there. She is the admiral's wife. She has just asked the admiral for me to be given to her as a present. He said that you would have to do that as he does not have any control over me, Marko, but you would never do that to me, would you? Please do not smile like that. But she is insisting that as he is the admiral he can do anything he wishes. Flint has heard all this and says not to worry, he has a plan.'

Marko groaned and wondered if he should intervene as Nail sauntered away, ignoring everyone. He turned to Jan. 'They are up to something. What should we do?'

'Nothing, Marko. Let's just sit back and watch the entertainment. I loathe formal dinners.'

Marko thought hard for a few moments then shook his head and went looking for the ACEs. He found them in the kitchen talking with the chefs and kitchen staff, who were all grinning in antic.i.p.ation. Glint rolled little b.a.l.l.s of minced meat.

Marko sighed, knowing that he was not going to be popular, and said, 'OK, ACEs. I am pulling rank. Behave, no pranks, not here, not now. We only just got away with a fairly mild reprimand over the slaver action because we are media stars and the Games Board sanctioned and paid for the damage we created.'

Glint stopped what he was doing and walked across to stand with Nail and Flint in front of Marko. Marko knew that they would be having a high-speed electronic conversation.

Flint answered. 'You are correct, Father. But can we at least have a little fun sometime soon? These people are so stupid in their att.i.tudes. We hate being treated as non equals.'

Marko nodded and whispered, 'I love you all and am so proud of you. And you are not equal to many of them as you are actually superior. Come on, let's go enjoy what will be very good food.'

As they were about to leave, after what had turned out to be a fairly enjoyable dinner from Marko's point of view, the admiral shook him by the hand and then leant forwards and quietly said, 'I wish you well in all your endeavours. And, yes, I am in the market for one of your ACEs. Please contact me soon.'

As soon as they arrived back on board Basalt, Marko found a formal order and the specifications for the spider, with a very generous offer from the admiral to expedite the build. He acknowledged it then sent the file to Topaz and Ernst, knowing that they had little to do and were bored, even considering shutting themselves down until the work on Basalt was completed.

A few mornings later Jake arrived unexpectedly and asked if he could have a look at the Gunbus. After they fed him a cup of coffee, and piled up a tray full of fruit for him to take back, they showed him the Gunbus. He looked long and hard at the antigravity units and suggested that he take them back with him to Sledgehammer, as they had older units in the junkyard which were in better order than the ones from the 'bus. He also suggested that Marko come down to the facility late that afternoon as 73 would be ready by then.

Jan and Marko had met Jake and his partners, two very pleasant women, for a discreet meal the previous night. It turned out that their pa.s.sion was ancient aircraft and they had built a reasonable collection, together with a large group of fellow enthusiasts, on one of the thousands of islands on the resort planet below. A number of them were craft that Marko had no knowledge of, which made him more interested than ever. Jake had given them introductions to the guys at the 'aerodrome', and when he suggested that they would be able to go for flights in some of the aircraft they were completely sold on the idea of a visit. Marko had told Jake that they had the surviving Gunbus from the show at 27's foundry on board Basalt and he expressed a great interest in seeing it.

Just on 5.00 p.m. local time, Harry and Marko took a shuttle to collect the two fighters from the shipyard to return them to Basalt. They sat back on autopilot viewing the shipyards from on high. They watched as one heavy cruiser was lowered by three large brutish-looking tugs into what they both surmised must have been a specially built cradle, because the ship appeared to be missing over a quarter of its lower fuselage, which they knew would take months to regrow. Intrigued, they used the onboard link back to Patrick to first identify the ship in question and then have him look up the back story.

'I have the information. It is a famous old ship called Napoleon. It went up against another recently discovered outpost of the Infant fanatics in what was supposed to be a simple mop-up operation. Well, as we all know simple operations are rarely that. They got seriously knocked around by yet another unpleasant weapon. It is a vapour which, once a ship has pa.s.sed through it, condenses onto the hull. It then gathers itself into a gel which rolls down the hull to chew on the engine decks. The captain evacuated her crew forwards and to take care of the infection detonated a Compressor against her own ship, after she had vaporised the small base with a Buster. Gutsy effort!'

Harry nodded in thanks. 'So, Marko, we still have Infant nutters out there waiting for us, eh? Thought that we had dealt with that s.h.i.t.'

Marko's mouth turned down. 'Yeah, problem is, Harry, that the whole thing is tied up with the Games Board so who knows what else is out there. Nothing ever showed up with that whole Avian deal that White was talking about, so who knows, mate, who knows?'

'For your interest, Harry and Marko,' Patrick offered, 'the specialist salvage Hauler, Barnacle, is high above you. Here are the coordinates.'

Using the sensors in the Skua, Harry found the giant skeletal ship then ramped up the magnification to watch as it slowly powered its way up from the moon. Around its central core was an enormous framework which had great numbers of grapnels, line throwers, winches and lockdowns attached, together with an entire plethora of smaller units able to grasp ailing ships, and rescue the occupants, before securing the salvage. It was also bristling with defensive systems to fight off any others intending on getting the salvage first. Its attendant tugs were downsized units of Barnacle, any one of which would have been capable of taking Basalt inside it. Watching them dock, Harry said, 'Seems in a hurry: must be more work to be done.'

'Yeah, plenty of work in the salvage business these days, Harry. Wonder if they have had a look at our last battle site?'

'Dunno, but I do know that I would really like to have a good close look at Barnacle one day. Rumoured to have some rather interesting non-Administration, non-Gjomvik tech on board in that it can neutralise a Compressor. Now that I would like to see. Would have to take Fritzy with me to explain it, no doubt.'

They were once again given the royal treatment at the shipyard. 73 looked superb with the damage eliminated and its new gunmetal blue paintwork a perfect dull matt finish, and Marko said as much. They had a cup of tea with the management, after which he made a point of thanking the individual techs and engineers who had worked on the Hanger, with Harry doing the same a few bays over.

As they were about to depart, the manager gave a wrap-up speech. 'The fighters are both fully functional and ready for theatre. They have been test flown. The reports and the craft are now handed back to you. It has been a great pleasure meeting with you both.'

The man gave them a short bow, which they returned, with Harry saying, 'That is most kind. Thank you, Mr Jacobsen.'

As soon as they had docked and were climbing from their c.o.c.kpits, the first person they saw was Sirius, who called out to them, 'Don't worry about the last few days! I have just sold all the programs and the funds will be credited to your accounts in a few minutes. Nice little earners. GB is pleased with the bit extra and extends its thanks. So, did you miss me?'