“All right,” Quinn said. “We’re breaking into this fortress and knocking out that cannon—before it roasts Borag and our only ticket home.”

  The mutants had retreated to a defensive position full of jagged rocks. The warbots had pursued them. A fresh battle raged—but we ignored all that. We had a mission of our own, now.

  We rushed up the mountain, circling around on the northern face. The sounds of battle faded away below and to the south.

  As we neared the entrance to the mutant stronghold, we could see that the enemy had left only a handful of guards behind. They’d probably figured no one would dare attack their fortress gates.

  “Ready-up,” Quinn whispered, motioning for Red Company to prepare for the assault.

  Welks showed me teeth inside an unshaven face. He held his flamethrower at the ready, while Ledbetter kept his rifle as close to his cheekbone as a helmet would allow. The others in the squad followed suit. We were as eager and ready as we were going to get.

  With a sweeping wave of Quinn’s arm, we sprang into action. We charged the entrance to the stronghold.

  We closed in on the mutant guards in a rush. They appeared startled and unprepared. They’d been gawking at the battle down in the southern crater, just as we’d been doing earlier. They scrambled for their weapons, but we were already upon them.

  “Die, warthog!” Jones bellowed, his rifle spitting fire as he took down one of the guards—who indeed resembled a warthog.

  We fought our way past a handful of distracted defenders and charged inside. There were several more squatting just past the entrance.

  We didn’t hesitate. It was them or us. The sounds of gunfire and screams filled the air. The chaos of battle engulfed us. I locked eyes with a mutant and let out a battle cry as I charged him, my carbine sending a dozen laser bolts into his gut. The mutant cried out and snarled, legs pumping in the air as I shot him repeatedly. The creature crumpled to the ground.

  We pressed onward. We had a long way to go—an impossibly long way, if there were even a tenth as many mutants in these tunnels as there were on the slopes outside.

  We shot down anyone who didn’t flee from us at first sight—fortunately, most of them did.

  Quinn waved for us to advance. “Keep moving. We’ve got a mountain to save.”

  Chapter 30: The Mountain’s Last Secret

  After driving into the tunnels and making several turns—we came to a crossroads. There were at least four ways out of this chamber we were in—and I had no idea which one was the right one to take us to the top.

  I crouched low in the dimly lit tunnel. Red Company boys pressed all around me, anxious and breathing hard.

  Besides the breathing, the only sound was the echoing drip of water in the distance. The moment stretched on as I tried to get my bearings. The hush settling over the company grew unbearable.

  “Choose fast, and choose right, Starn,” Lt. Quinn told me.

  I could tell he wanted to beat my brains in, but he was trying to sound cool about it.

  “I… I think it’s that one. To the left side of that rock.”

  We surged forward, but a single voice stopped us.

  “Wait!” Ledbetter said. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Lieutenant… I hear something. Coming from that tunnel.”

  Of course, none of the rest of us heard anything—but we all knew Ledbetter’s enhanced hearing was unnaturally sharp.

  “Starn, your squad is on point. You have the ball—just don’t sit there.”

  I nodded, and I turned to Ledbetter. “What do you hear, Corporal?”

  “The enemy,” he said, his voice grim. “They’re coming from there—and that other side tunnel. I’d say they’re about fifty yards ahead.”

  We all glanced at one another. No one looked happy. We’d been through hell already, and we’d kind of been hoping we’d be able to sneak to our destination without serious resistance.

  “All right, marines,” I said quietly, “weapons ready, but don’t fire until I give the order.”

  We edged forward, but before we’d gone more than five yards on our bellies, Sergeant Cox showed up. He and his squad had been at the rear of the group. He came near to me now, his face set in a scowl. “What’s the fucking hold-up, Starn? Are your boys shitting themselves again?”

  “Your squad can have point if you want it, Cox,” I told him.

  Grumbling, he retreated and began bitching to Lt. Quinn. It was hard to keep those two happy. I understood the idea of a fast strike—but if you knew the enemy was coming, it was better to ambush them than walk into their trap.

  I turned back to Ledbetter. “How many are we talking?”

  He closed his eyes for a moment, frowning as he listened intently. “Hard to say,” he finally admitted. “Maybe ten, maybe twenty. They’re moving up slowly, just like us. Won’t be long now.”

  I felt a cold sweat break out on the back of my neck. We couldn’t risk getting caught in a firefight in these narrow tunnels. We needed a plan, and fast. “There’s a bend in the tunnel about twenty yards ahead. We’ll set up there and force them to come at us one at a time.”

  The squad moved with practiced efficiency, each man taking up a position at the bend in the tunnel. Tension mounted as the faint sound of the approaching mutants grew louder. Their guttural growls and the scrape of claws on rock echoed through the darkness.

  “Steady…” I murmured, my hand resting on the grip of my rifle. “Wait for a clear target.”

  I could see the first glimmers of movement in the darkness. Some of their mutant eyes glowed like embers as they closed in. I waited for the right moment, my heart hammering in my chest.

  “Now!” I shouted.

  The tunnel erupted with the sound of laser bolts flying. Flashes of heat glowed first orange, then a deep red as they burned into the rocky walls.

  The mutants howled in pain and rage. Their charge was momentarily halted by the hail of deadly energy. They were armed—but only with pistols, power-hammers, and things that looked like chain-driven machetes. Six of them came at us, but we knocked them all down. Some were still crawling, trying to get in close.

  “Keep firing!” I yelled, my own weapon blazing as I took down one mutant after another. “Don’t let them get to our line!”

  The firefight raged on—if you could call it that. The air was thick with the stench of blood and burnt flesh. We fought with everything we had.

  Cox and Quinn were talking in my ear, but I didn’t care. If they wanted to get in on this action, they’d have to find a way around to flank the mutants. My squad was taking up every inch of the narrow tunnel and filling the air with laser bolts.

  The tunnel was a maelstrom of chaos and noise. Fire ripped through the darkness, but the tide of twisted, nightmarish creatures seemed endless. When one mutant fell, another took its place. Ten to twenty my ass—there had to be a hundred of them.

  Some of their bodies formed a twisted fusion of flesh and metal. The result of cruel experiments and desperate self-alterations to enhance their odds of survival. Two mutant cyborgs charged close enough to get into my personal space. Each was a grotesque blend of man and machine that stood out even amidst this freakshow.

  The first man was a hulking beast of a creature. His left arm had been replaced with a whirring, grinding mass of saw-toothed gears. His face was a patchwork of scarred tissue and metal. One eye was a glowing, crimson lens that seemed to bore into my soul.

  I held down the firing stud on my carbine. This formed a continuous, pulsating beam of light. The searing beam sliced through the air and punched through the monster’s chest. He roared in pain and rage, but his fury was short-lived. With a wet gurgle, he collapsed. The life drained from that freakish red eye.

  The next mutant was a more lithe, sinuous creature. I couldn’t even tell if it was male or female—it was a monster. The body was a tangle of cables and twisted metal. The lower half of its face was replaced with a snarling, razor-sharp maw, a cruel parody of the human form. It moved with a predatory grace, taking advantage of my distraction with its larger friend.

  Weaving through a hail of laser fire unscathed, it closed in on me. In a heartbeat, it was in my face. One powerful arm knocked my weapon from my grasp. I could feel the cold metal of its fingers digging into my flesh as it sought to crush the life from me, its jaws snapping mere inches from my helmet.

  Desperation lent me strength, and I swung my massive left arm. For once, I was happy about that product of my own unique mutation. The blow connected with a satisfying crunch, sending the mutant reeling backward.

  The mutant snarled, its eyes narrowing as it prepared to strike once more. It charged, spreading its powerful limbs to propel itself forward with terrifying speed. But I was ready. My arm raised itself and braced for the impact.

  The collision was like a thunderclap. My mutated limb met the mutant’s charge head-on. I managed to get a grip on its throat, and I held it away from me. Drooling jaws snapped and screeched, but I refused to let the creature overwhelm me. In the meantime, I kept squeezing that throat for all I was worth. My powerful fingers, each as fat as two or three normal fingers, convulsed on what seemed to me to be a rather skinny neck.

  With a final, guttural scream, the mutant collapsed. It was defeated, broken. I let it slip to the tunnel floor.

  Panting, I became aware again of my surroundings. Some of my marines were still locked in battle with the remaining mutants. Together, we helped one another with the grim work of finishing off each abomination, one at a time.

  Sergeant Cox came up and stared at the mess. “How’d you know these guys were waiting for us up here?”

  I pointed to his ass. “I felt it in my arm,” I told him with a straight face. “My mutant arm always smells a brother. Didn’t your tail-stump wriggle, or something?”

  He scowled at me with hate. He didn’t like anyone bringing up his amputated mutation. He liked to pretend he’d never had an abomination of his own.

  “Crazy mother…” he said, retreating to his own squad again.

  We had survived this encounter, but I knew that even deeper levels of shit were likely to lie ahead. Without giving my marines more time to think about what we were doing, I got them up and moving again.

  After we’d climbed over dozens of dead monstrosities, we found the tunnel they’d come from finally opened up into a vast chamber. The hum of unseen heavy machinery vibrated our boots.

  At the center of the room, the source of the strange sound was revealed. A complex mass of gleaming metal and pulsing lights dominated the chamber—it was an alien power supply, according to my helmet. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before.

  “A fusion generator?” Ledbetter said. “That’s what my helmet AI is saying. It doesn’t look like a generator to me. Nothing’s even spinning.”

  He was right, but I figured the computers in our helmets knew what they were talking about. I’d never considered visual interpretations of objects to be an important feature—but today I felt differently. Normally, you might look down at a fork, or your gun, or your boots—who needed such things identified?

  But here, in this strange hive of alien gizmos, we had no tour guide like Redgrave to do the job. Our helmet AI would have to be trusted, for better or worse.

  The generator dwarfed everything else in the cavernous chamber. It was an intricate, towering structure. The base of the machine was a massive cylindrical column, its surface a complex lattice of gleaming metal and interwoven conduits. The unknown alloys shimmered with an iridescent sheen, reflecting the colors of the pulsating lights that ran throughout the system.

  Looking up, I stared at the tapered top. Up there, it transformed from a cylinder into a series of concentric rings. Each one was suspended above the other by an array of delicate-looking, yet deceptively strong, support struts. According to my AI, these rings were the heart of the fusion process, where the plasma was confined and compressed, allowing the generator to harness the power of the stars themselves. Within these rings, magnetic fields swirled and danced, creating a hypnotic display of energy that was as fascinating as it was dangerous.

  We walked around the machine, encircling it. Quinn dared to get the closest. If he’d been one of my men, I’d have ordered him to stand back—but he was the officer, not me.

  “By the gods...” he said, “it’s a masterpiece of engineering. Do you realize the value of this, Starn?”

  I nodded, but my gut churned. “I know it’s got to be worth some serious credit, sir—but this thing must be powering the warp cannon up top. We need to shut it down or destroy it.”

  Quinn frowned, his fingers drumming on the hilt of his sidearm. “I have orders from Blackwood, Starn. We’re not to damage any alien tech we find. The value of this generator is... immense. It could revolutionize our understanding of energy production.”

  “I understand that, sir,” I replied, struggling to keep my frustration in check. “But there’s a bigger picture here. Our men are dying out there, and every second we hesitate is another life lost.”

  Quinn’s jaw clenched, his gaze hardening. “I don’t need a lecture on the stakes, Starn. I’m well aware of the cost of this mission.”

  “So… what do we do, sir?” I pressed. “We can’t afford to waste any more time.”

  He hesitated, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. “Blackwood won’t be happy if we destroy this thing. Let’s try to find a way to disable the power supply without causing irreparable damage.”

  I gritted my teeth, the urge to argue nearly overwhelming. “With all due respect, sir, Blackwood isn’t out here with us. He’s not the one risking his ass. We need to do what’s best for Borag, not what’s best for his bottom line.”

  Quinn’s eyes flicked between me and the generator, the battle between duty and pragmatism warring on his face. Finally, he sighed. “You’re right, Starn. If we can’t disable the power supply quickly... we’ll have to destroy it.”

  I nodded, relieved. “Thank you, sir. We’ll do our best to minimize the damage.”

  Quinn’s eyes never left the alien fusion generator as he spoke. “Starn, while we’re working on this thing, I’m giving you another job to do.”

  “What’s that, sir?”

  “You’re going to go upstairs—to the top of this mountain—and disable that weapon.”

  “Uh… you want me to go up top? With 3rd Squad alone, sir?” I asked.

  “Yeah, that’s right. I’ve already contacted the ship. A team of techs is sprinting here right now. Someone has to take out the cannon.”

  “I got that… but… shouldn’t we send everyone? That cannon will destroy those cruisers.”

  Quinn looked at me sharply. “Then you’d better get humping up those passages. You know the way—none of the rest of us do. I’ll stay here with Cox, and we’ll take care of this… discovery.”

  I knew right off what was going on. Quinn had felt the tug of yellow greed. He wanted to secure this fusion generator if at all possible. Maybe he didn’t even care about the Earth cruisers. That was part of the problem with having profit-oriented ships running the show out here on the frontier of space. It was cheaper for the government—but we didn’t always do the right thing.

  I glanced toward the darkest tunnels, the ones that led up to the crown of the mountain. “Moving out, sir.”

  Quinn ignored me and set guards at every exit. I knew the game he was playing. He’d smelled a big cash-in, and he didn’t want to let go of it.

  If those Earth cruisers out there were destroyed by Redgrave’s cannon, well, that would be a tragedy. But losing a piece of alien tech that might be able to power all of Mars City—or a dozen more terraforming plants—was too tempting. He was blinded by the value of this terrific find. He couldn’t in good conscious let it be left unguarded—or, worse still, let it be destroyed by the likes of me.

  I gathered up my battered squad and made sure we all switched our power packs out for fresh ones. It wouldn’t do to run out of juice in the middle of our next fight.

  As I turned to leave, Quinn’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, his grip was firm and reassuring. “I know you’ll win through, Starn. When this machine is fully secured, I’ll come up after you.”

  The seriousness in his tone gave me pause, and I met his gaze with a grim nod. “I won’t let you down, sir.”

  He released my shoulder and stepped back. I led my men into a nearby tunnel that wound upward at a sharp angle. Ledbetter and Welks fell into step behind me.

  What a deal. We’d been given the job of disabling a weapon we knew next to nothing about. Meanwhile, Quinn and the others were attempting to decipher alien technology that might as well have been magic.

  If my squad failed and Earth lost more valuable ships today, it was going to be on his head.

  Chapter 31: Redgrave’s Ambition

  I led 3rd Squad up the narrow path to the mountain’s peak, my boots crunching on the rocky terrain. Corporal Ledbetter huffed beside me, while Private Welks and Private Jones followed close behind. We reached the top, our breathing heavy and hearts pounding, only to find Redgrave waiting for us with a smug grin on his face. He was flanked by a squad of his own grotesque, mutant troops.

  “Well, well, well,” Redgrave said, his voice raspy and unnatural. “If it isn’t Sergeant Starn and his little band of misfits.”

  “Redgrave, surrender now, and all this killing can stop. You can’t win at this point.”

  He laughed, a harsh, grating sound that injured my ears. “Bold words, Sergeant, but I’m afraid your heroics have come to an end.”

  Having heard enough, I gave the signal to open fire—but nothing happened.

  With a flick of his wrist, he had activated—something. A wave of energy surged through the chamber, and my body went rigid, my limbs locked in place.

  My men were standing around me, rifles raised, gloved fingers on triggers—but not a single bolt spat out. None of us could move, in fact.

  Redgrave found this amusing. He approached, and our eyes stared at him quietly.