The conversation tailed off and nobody laughed at Enfield. This place – the morgue as Vance now thought of it – was getting to everyone and they’d only been here a few minutes. The lights went off again and this time he ordered everyone to keep moving. He was sick of the death and sick of the Ancidium already, and the mission had barely started.

  Getting soft, James. You’ve had it easy for too long.

  He ignored the thought and pressed on, taking care not to trip over the sprawled bodies. Breaking a leg because he fell over a Lavorix would be a disaster not only for his chance of survival, but for his reputation as well. Not that Vance lived on reputation, but he certainly didn’t want to spend the rest of his career finding out what inventive methods his soldiers could come up with the remind him of the incident.

  Arriving at the wall, Vance had only one direction to turn and that was to the right. He set off, his eyes searching for an exit. Given the number of Lavorix in the room, it seemed logical there’d be plenty of doors. Fifty metres on, he found what he was looking for.

  “Here,” he said.

  The obliterator core was right behind him and he instructed it to interface. After that, he waited a few seconds for the platoon to get into position and then ordered the device to open the door.

  “How long this time?” wondered Sergeant Tagra.

  “Twelve seconds,” guessed Vance.

  The door opened in less than ten and Vance gazed into a fifty-metre corridor which entered another room ahead. Once again, the lights went out and he muttered sourly under his breath as he waited for the Firestorm to create its next stasis negation pulse.

  “Moving in,” he said, once the lights returned.

  Accompanied by Drawl and Tagra, Vance hurried towards the next room. This space wasn’t so large as the bunk room, measuring about a hundred metres by fifty. Rectangular tables of grey metal were arranged evenly around the floorspace and each was served by four benches. On the opposite wall, Vance spotted what he believed were replicators – about a dozen in total. Each replicator had a vending slot and a lit screen above. He sniffed and caught a strong odour of something rotten.

  “More dead Lavorix,” said Drawl. “They came for a bite to eat, were killed by the extractor and then got frozen in time.”

  The corpses were numerous, indicating this mess room had been popular with the local aliens. Most of the seats had been occupied at the moment of the extractor attack, though many of the Lavorix had convulsed onto the floor. Food trays were on every table and upon these trays, Vance saw hearty globs of brown mush.

  “Any volunteers want to find out what that stuff tastes like?” asked Drawl, pointing his Rodan barrel towards the nearest table.

  “Hell no,” said Raven from a few paces behind. “It looks like shit.”

  “Four exits including this one,” said Tagra, peering around the room. He lifted an arm and pointed at the right-hand door. “We should go that way.”

  Vance stared in that direction. To his surprise, the Lavorix had fixed a direction sign to the wall and the language module in his suit could read the small text when he zoomed in. Technical Station.

  That was also the moment he spotted something unexpected.

  “Those four Lavorix standing near that door aren’t dead,” Vance said. He scanned the room again – the aliens he’d seen were the only ones which were upright. “They’re alive and in stasis.”

  “How come?” asked Sergeant Gantry.

  An explanation jumped into Vance’s head and it was one he didn’t like. “We’re at the edge of the Firestorm’s stasis negation pulse, so those Lavorix are still trapped in zero-time.” Vance swore. “The death sphere came before the Gorgadar’s stasis, so those ones should have been killed.”

  “And there they are, frozen but not dead,” said Gantry.

  “What does that mean?” asked Private Carrington.

  “It might mean we’re looking at the four toughest Lavorix on the Ancidium. Lavorix who can withstand an extractor shot and a death sphere,” said Vance.

  He ran through the timeline in his head. Captain Recker had fired the Ixidar’s extractor twice into the Ancidium and then escaped without knowing for certain how many of the enemy had been killed. Several days later, he’d encountered the Ancidium again, in a different location and that was the moment the death sphere had been created. Minutes after that, the Ancidium had been put in stasis by a runaway criticality on the Gorgadar’s superstressed propulsion.

  “Or, more likely…” Vance continued, “…these four Lavorix were never touched by the extractor and they just happened to be in this room when the death sphere and stasis field were created later.”

  “And since they aren’t dead, they survived the death sphere long enough to be put in stasis,” said Sergeant Tagra.

  Vance took a deep breath. “I’ve always been told the death sphere works instantly against the Lavorix – like flicking a switch and then they fall over.”

  “If the death sphere didn’t kill the Lavorix who survived the extractor attacks, we’re deep in the shit,” said Corporal Hendrix.

  “Forehead deep,” said Gantry.

  “Let’s take a closer look,” said Vance.

  He set off into the room. With each step, the stench of the Lavorix food became progressively stronger and it made him think of raw meat slurry.

  The obliterator core’s cancellation effect extended fifty metres and Vance halted the device at fifty-one metres from the frozen Lavorix. Looking from close up, Vance had no doubt these aliens were as alive as he was. In fact, it appeared as if they were on their way to the replicators, as if they cared not at all for the other dead Lavorix in the mess room.

  “I’m about to send in the obliterator unit to cancel their stasis,” said Vance. “They’re unarmed, so wait a couple of seconds to find out if the death sphere kills them. If not, shoot them.”

  Vance sent the obliterator core another few metres towards the Lavorix, so they’d be encompassed by its next stasis negation pulse. He chose a target and aimed his Rodan, while keeping watch on the thirty-second timer for the Firestorm’s stasis pulse. The digits fell to zero and the obliterator generated its own localised stasis negation pulse.

  At once, the Lavorix resumed what they’d been doing before they were trapped in stasis, which wasn’t a trip to the replicator, but a disconcertingly rapid sprint for the exit in the opposite wall. Vance cursed – the Lavorix ran differently to a human or a Daklan and he hadn’t spotted that they were in full motion. It took a split second for the aliens to realise they were in the gunsights and then they ran faster.

  “Kill them,” said Vance.

  The platoon was well positioned and the soldiers remained calm. Vance tracked his target and blew the top of its head off with his first Rodan shot. Just to be sure, he gave it a second hole, this time in the torso. Other guns nearby discharged and then abruptly stopped. Lavorix bodies slid across the floor with momentum and blood pooled thickly. Sergeant Tagra strode over to confirm the enemy were dead, not that there was any doubt. He tapped the side of his helmet and nodded.

  Vance requested a channel to Admiral Aston. “Ma’am, it’s possible the death sphere didn’t kill the Lavorix,” he said. “We’ve discovered some who were alive when we cancelled their stasis.” Vance quickly described the recent events.

  “This is not good news, Lieutenant.”

  “No, ma’am, it is not. However, I believe my platoon should continue the mission.”

  “We have little choice,” said Aston. “If you find the same result everywhere, it is conceivable that billions of Lavorix are still alive on the Ancidium.”

  “How did they survive the death sphere, ma’am?”

  “I don’t know, Lieutenant,” said Aston. “Perhaps the Ancidium’s personnel areas are shielded from the effects. After all, the damn warship is immune to practically everything else. Don’t think about it too hard – move on with the mission and let me know what you discover.”

  Vance had something else to ask. Once he led the platoon beyond the Firestorm’s negation pulse, they’d enter an alternating state of thirty seconds stasis and ten seconds of the negated stasis created by the obliterator core. Although he’d become accustomed to the stasis shifts, he’d be far more comfortable in a permanently negated stasis.

  “Admiral, we’re about to enter an area locked in stasis. I don’t suppose there’s any way we can reprogram this obliterator core to create a permanent negation field?”

  “I’m sure you remember the briefing, Lieutenant. Best not to tamper with something that’s already working.”

  “Just thought I’d ask,” said Vance ruefully. “We’ve found directions to a technical station and we’re on our way there. It’s possible there’ll be an interface port that allows access to some data we can make use of.”

  “Keep going, Lieutenant. I’ll speak to you soon.”

  Vance closed the channel and ordered his troops to move. This mission had never been conventional and now it appeared there’d be a whole lot of shooting to accompany the stasis fields and the exploration.

  Killing aliens was something Vance knew all about and he set off for the exit with a tight grip on his gun.

  Chapter Twelve

  As he approached the door leading from the mess room, Vance turned once to make sure nobody had fallen too far behind. From here, it would start getting messy if anyone became lost and ended up in stasis. Judging by the way the soldiers hurried to keep up, the same thought was on everyone’s mind.

  The obliterator core cracked the door in eight seconds and, in the passage beyond, were more frozen Lavorix. Dozens of them.

  “These ones are alive as well,” said Gantry.

  The corridor continued to a left-right intersection sixty metres away, though the intervening space was too crowded for Vance to see if there was another sign for the technical station.

  He advanced, leaving the core behind for the moment. The Ancidium’s propulsion note was gone now, certainly because the obliterator core’s tiny negation pulse didn’t reach as far as the ternium modules. That left it eerily quiet and the Lavorix were grotesque statues in the silence.

  Backing up, Vance gave orders. The plan was straightforward. “I’ll bring the core forward. As soon as these bastards drop out of stasis, shoot them dead.”

  “This is going to feel like cheating,” said Drawl.

  “Don’t complain too much,” said Raven. “I much prefer it when the bullets are heading away from me.”

  Vance motioned for silence and surveyed the positions of his soldiers. Given the limitations of space, he’d chosen Squad B to have all the fun. The soldiers formed an arc a little way from the corridor entrance.

  “I’m bringing up the core,” said Vance.

  He gave it the order and the device floated steadily closer. The moment it came within fifty metres of the nearest Lavorix, the aliens jerked out of stasis. Bullets poured into them and they went down like blood-sopping rags.

  “Next,” said Vance.

  Another group of Lavorix were freed and again the squad discharged their guns with the same outcome.

  “Feels like I’m on a firing squad,” said Private Mack. “I’m not sure I like it either.”

  Onwards floated the obliterator core and down went the Lavorix. The radius of the stasis negation field was fifty metres and the corridor was sixty in length, so the aliens at the intersection couldn’t be removed from zero-time while the obliterator stayed in the mess room. Vance halted the core at the doorway.

  “Follow it into the passage,” he said, indicating with his gun. He ordered the obliterator unit to move again.

  The squad didn’t require micromanagement and they went with it, the human soldiers flanking in the wide gaps to the sides and the Daklan firing over the top of the core. Blood and entrails made the floor treacherous and Mack’s feet skidded once, leaving a smear in the gore.

  “We have cleared the way,” said Tagra.

  Vance halted the core again, fifteen metres into the passage. “I’ll hold the obliterator here. Head to the intersection and be ready to kill anything that emerges from stasis.”

  The squad hurried on and positioned themselves at the junction, with their guns ready.

  “We have targets,” Tagra confirmed.

  “The core is on its way,” said Vance.

  Under his command, the obliterator resumed its journey. Vance and the other two squads had some leeway within its fifty-metre negation radius, but he played it safe and motioned the remaining soldiers to follow him as he strode after the core. At the intersection, guns discharged and then again. Vance didn’t stop until the obliterator was at the corner.

  “We have killed all the Lavorix within range,” said Tagra, checking the ammunition readout on his Rodan. “I do not like these creatures, but there is no honour in this.”

  “Just picture them with Bautista’s face, Sergeant,” quipped Drawl. “That’s how I did it in the mess room and it worked great. In fact, I’d like to volunteer to shoot the next bunch we run into.”

  “You won’t have to wait long, Private,” rumbled Tagra. “This corridor holds many targets in both directions.”

  Vance was already at the intersection. The nearby Lavorix had been efficiently and brutally slaughtered. Steam rose in the cold air from the lumps of red meat and guts which had once been murderous aliens. The scent of it was sharp and unpleasant, though Vance had long ago become accustomed to the odour of the freshly killed.

  Many of the aliens had been armed and their fallen rifles were grey among the crimson. Vance hadn’t heard a single shot, but eventually that would change and one of the Lavorix would react quickly enough to discharge a weapon. He could only hope that his soldiers would not be hit.

  “There’s another sign,” he said, spotting a ten-inch square of light grey metal against the darker grey walls. The sign was offset from the intersection and splattered blood made it hard to read. Vance wiped it with the side of his gauntlet, doing little more than spreading the redness around. He cursed and squinted at the sign, before rubbing it again to reveal an arrow.

  “That way,” he said, pointing left. The corridor went on for some distance and Vance estimated sixty or seventy Lavorix were in sight. Passages linked in from the sides and a darker area in the distance might have been a door.

  “It’s like the entire warship was mobilised,” said Steigers.

  “I’m sure it was,” said Vance. “The more I see, the more I think these bastards were readying themselves for something.”

  “Like what?” asked Private Fidel Coates.

  Vance was only guessing himself, but he got irritated when people demanded answers that he clearly didn’t have. “Use your imagination, Private. Something bad.”

  “I wonder if the operational crew is alive,” said Corporal Hendrix. “If that stasis sphere collapses and the Ancidium escapes, we could find ourselves right back where we were twelve years ago, only this time we’d have both the Lavorix and the Kilvar fighting over our life energy.”

  “The outcome would be chaos,” said Tagra. “Chaos and death.”

  “That’s always the outcome,” said Drawl. He didn’t usually get angry, but it was spilling from him now and he aimed a kick at a lump of glistening flesh, sending it thudding into the wall. “I don’t want it.”

  “In that case, you know what to do, Private,” said Vance.

  “Yeah, I know, Lieutenant. Shoot aliens and don’t stop until they’re all dead.”

  “Either that or re-train as a weapons scientist,” suggested Steigers. “I hear RL Moseley’s team is looking for talented individuals.”

  Even Drawl had to laugh and his anger dissipated. “We’ve got a mission to finish. When we’re done and returned home, maybe I’ll apply for that position.”

  Vance was ready to go as well, but he wanted to ensure the squads were comfortable with the tactics he was about to employ.

  “I’ll hold the core to a walking pace,” he said. “Squad A will take point, swapping to Squad B and then C as we need to reload. If anyone spots internal defences or a zero-time Lavorix with a rocket tube pointed our way, be sure to call it out.”

  Before Vance could give the order to go, movement along the intersection caught his eye. His Rodan was aimed in the right direction and he shifted the barrel a few inches before pulling the trigger.

  “Hostiles!” Vance shouted, as the Rodan thumped into his shoulder.

  Blood sprayed and fast-moving shapes sprinted towards him. Vance pulled the trigger again, with the Rodan on narrow spread. Slugs punched into a Lavorix about seventy metres away, smashing its shoulder into mush and almost severing an arm.

  A second after Vance yelled the warning, the passage became filled with the whine of gauss coils and the muffled thump of Rodan shots.

  “Deploying,” said Gantry, kicking out the tripod on his MG-12 repeater.

  “Rendos!” shouted Vance. “Cover right!”

  The intersection was too crowded for so many soldiers and Vance barked orders for those with Rodans to fall back towards the mess room. He wasn’t far from the corner himself and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t crossing into someone’s firing line, and then he stepped out of the cross passage, bringing the obliterator core with him.

  Gantry and Rendos were old hands with the repeaters and they set up in moments. The guns produced a hard-edged roar and they spilled a deluge into the Lavorix.

  “Rocket tube ready,” said Private Stanar.

  Vance lifted a hand, palm out, ordering the soldier to hold. “I think we’ve got this,” he said.

  With Rendos and Gantry prone, Vance checked quickly left, withdrew his head and then checked quickly right. In both directions he saw carnage and blood glimmering on every surface.

  “It’s not clear, sir,” said Gantry. “More of the bastards keep running in from the side passages.”

  Vance swore and poked his head out again, just in time to see a Lavorix dart from a passage about ninety metres left. Bullets tore into the creature and, before it could drop to the floor, it became frozen in place. Vance’s suddenly guessed what was going on, but he needed to speak with Admiral Aston to find out for sure. As he thought, the Vengeance’s receptors were grey.