The city remained deserted and lifeless, though the signs of conflict increased as they moved deeper toward the center. There were more than bullet marks on the walls here. There were deep indents in the alloy and full holes that had penetrated the metal and entered the space inside. There were claw marks too. Signs of trife having been in the city at one point, though it was unclear if they were attackers or defenders.

  There were no stains, but all of the rain would have washed them away. There were also no bodies, at least not outside. Had the elements been washed away to nothing? Caleb didn’t know what the Axon looked like or even what they were composed of.

  “Sarge!” Flores shouted.

  Caleb looked to his right. Flores was standing against the base of the tower, in front of a fresh opening that rose nearly five meters along the surface of the spire and spread nearly five meters wide. It was a massive hole, and it almost made him laugh over how hard it had been to find.

  “Got it!” Flores said.

  “Guardians, form up on Flores,” Caleb said. He glanced over at Kiaan, who was sticking to him like a magnet. “Kiaan, let’s go.”

  The pilot nodded, following Caleb across to Flores’ position. Washington, Liam, Dante, and Paige joined them within moments.

  The opening led into another massive room, the ceiling beginning twenty meters over their heads. It was strangely formed, with thousands of twisting and curving strands of material hanging from it like hair, waving gently from the sudden exposure. They illuminated a moment later, casting the space in a gentle light.

  The floor of the room was a mess. There was debris everywhere. Not only the familiar alloy but also other alien materials that resembled plastics and soft silicones and glass. There were bits and pieces of the materials spread across the floor, large installments that had been cracked and broken. There was a shape that reminded Caleb of a desk thrown on its side as though it had been used as a barrier.

  There were blood stains on the floor, repeated almost everywhere he looked. Dark marks and splatters that hinted at a massive battle and heavy casualties. It reminded him of the main hangar after the trife had gotten on board the Deliverance. The memory made him shiver.

  “Stay alert,” he said, still scanning the room. He noticed there was transparency higher up the wall, and he could see the clouds and the rain even though the area had appeared opaque from the other side. He continued turning his head, his eyes falling on a broad platform at the back of the room. It was raised a dozen centimeters from the ground, a glass surface with silvery veins etched into the base.

  “I don’t see any doors,” Liam said.

  “You thought you would?” Flores replied.

  “I’m just glad to get out of the rain,” Kiaan said. Water pooled at his feet, running off his soaked clothes.

  “What do you think this place was?” Dante asked.

  “The restaurant at the end of the universe,” Flores said. “Can I make a reservation?”

  “Do you want to?” Paige asked.

  “The light was coming from up there somewhere,” Dante said. “How do we reach it?”

  “Does this place even have stairs?” Flores asked. “Or even better, a lift.”

  “Pair up and spread out,” Caleb said. “Start checking the walls.” He wished they had the means to identify passages more easily. There had to be a trick to it.

  The others did as he said, beginning to move away from the doorway and deeper into the space.

  Caleb and Kiaan walked across the open floor toward the glass platform. They had gone almost twenty meters when the opening behind them folded closed, taking the sound of the rain outside with it and casting the room in silence. The strands above them dimmed slightly, leaving them in a strange twilight that made the whole scene even more surreal.

  Caleb took another step toward the platform. He froze when he heard his ATCS beep, his heart rate increasing as the HUD faded from view, the whole system losing power.

  “Sarge!” he heard Flores shout, muffled through her helmet without the assistive speakers.

  “Stay alert!” he shouted back.

  “Cal?”

  Caleb’s attention was drawn to the voice, which came from the left of the platform ahead.

  “Dad?” he said. His SOS had lost power, and now he was seeing things. There was only one cause for that.

  “Cal, what are you doing out here?” his father asked.

  He froze. This couldn’t be real. He knew it couldn’t be. “What do you mean?” he asked. “I’m doing my job. What the hell are you doing out here, Dad?”

  “Don’t use that tone of voice with me, Cal,” his father said. “That may pass with your Marines, but I’m your father, and you will respect me.”

  “Sorry,” Caleb said.

  “I know.”

  His father was walking toward him. He was as real as anything else in the room. He looked to his left. Kiaan was standing dead still, his mouth open in fear, his eyes focused on something ahead. Hallucinating. They were all hallucinating.

  “Your mom is sick, Cal,” his father said. “I need you to come home.”

  “I can’t come home,” he replied. “I’m forty light years from Earth. And Mom is already dead. So are you.”

  “We need you to come home, son.” His father pointed at his hand. “You can use that. Just put it around your neck and squeeze, and we can all be together again.”

  “What? I’m not going to do that.”

  “Cal.” Caleb spun around. His sister Margaret was there, wearing the jeans and t-shirt he had last seen her in. “We miss you, Cal. Come back home. It’s better with us.”

  “No,” Kiaan said. “No. No. Nooooo.” He turned and started running, back the way they had come.

  “We need you, Cal,” his father said. “Come on.”

  Caleb nodded, bringing his hand up toward his throat. He closed his eyes. Damn it. He had to fight it.

  His hand wavered near his throat. He pushed back against himself. He knew it was an Axon AI causing it. He knew it was going to kill all of them if he let it.

  He couldn’t stop it.

  His hand wrapped around his throat. One squeeze. That’s all it would take.

  Something hit him from the side like a freight train.

  The blow knocked Caleb over, sending him sprawling to the floor and forcing him to use his hand to catch himself. He hit the ground, rolling and looking back to where his sister and father had been standing. They were still there, with big smiles on their faces.

  “Kill him,” they said in unison.

  Kill who?

  He saw motion to his right. Washington was back on his feet, watching to see if he had control of himself.

  He didn’t.

  Chapter 53

  Caleb shouted as he charged the big Marine, replacement arm back to strike. Washington moved to a defensive position, waiting for his approach. Caleb threw a hard punch and Washington slipped back, getting out of his reach and then closing in and grabbing him, throwing him sideways and back to the floor.

  “Kill him!” Cal’s father shouted behind him.

  “Come on, Cal, you pansy,” Margaret said.

  Caleb bounced back to his feet. “I’m going to kill you, Wash,” he growled.

  Washington didn’t look impressed. He regained his footing, waiting for Caleb to come again.

  Caleb charged a second time, using his whole body instead of just the alloy hand. The powerless SOS was heavy on him and slowed him down, and Washington used that to his advantage. He kept his movements short and quick, blocking Caleb’s attacks and ducking away from the more powerful limb until he was able to get in and grab him again, throwing him down a third time.

  He pointed forcefully at the floor, telling him to stay down.

  Part of him wanted to, but he couldn’t help himself. He got back up and went after Washington again.

  Washington went on the offensive this time, pushing Caleb’s punch aside and throwing one of his own, connecting with his unprotected head. It knocked him off-balance, and he barely avoided the big Marine’s follow-up uppercut, taking it on the chest and being pushed back. He recovered, going low and sweeping Washington’s legs out from under him. Washington fell on his back but managed to kick Caleb in the chest before Caleb could leap on him and pin him down.

  They both returned to their feet, facing one another. Caleb could hear his father and sister in the background, cheering him on. He had let them down before by letting them die. He didn’t want to let them down again.

  He went at Washington a fourth time and lost track of everything around him. Where they were. What they were doing. Who the real enemy was. He only saw Washington and heard the orders.

  “Kill him. Kill him. Kill him...”

  They traded blows and blocks, shuffling their feet like boxers. Washington’s expression was calm and unconcerned, which only made Caleb angrier. He increased the intensity, throwing all of his years of training into taking the other Marine down.

  Washington had a lot of training too, and he was bigger and stronger. The weight of the SOS affected him less, and it showed. He met Caleb’s attacks, deflecting them or getting away from them, until he finally managed to get behind Caleb, wrapping his arms in a solid hold behind his head.

  Caleb struggled against it, trying to pull himself away.

  “Cal, you always were a baby,” Margaret said.

  “A damn disappointment,” his father said. “If you can’t kill him, maybe you can at least kill yourself?”

  Caleb gritted his teeth, still struggling. He looked down to the knife against Washington’s ankle. If he could get it, he could shove it through his eye and into his brain.

  This would all be over, and he could go home.

  He screamed as he pulled with his replacement arm, putting too much strength into Washington’s hold for the other man to maintain it. He broke the hold on that side, swinging the arm down and getting a grip on the knife. He pulled it out, raising it to jam toward his own face.

  Washington got an elbow up to block it, halting the arc of the blade centimeters from Caleb’s eye.

  “Damn it, I need to die,” Caleb said. “Let. Me. Go!” He bucked against Washington, slipping the grip. His feet hit the floor and he spun, slashing the knife toward the seam between Washington’s armor and helmet.

  Something changed. Caleb didn’t hear it or see it, but he felt it. His mind cleared, and his hand snapped open, dropping the knife only a second away from cutting his friend’s throat. It clattered on the metal floor, and he slumped forward into Washington’s grip.

  “Wash?” he said weakly.

  “Sergeant Card,” Hal said through his comm. “I require you.”

  “Where are you?” Caleb said.

  “Behind you.”

  Caleb whirled around. A single large trife was standing in front of him. Its body was bloody and torn, lacerated in too many places to count. It was missing teeth. It was also missing a couple of clawed fingers.

  “Hal?” he said, staring at the creature. He realized his comm was functional again. So was his ATCS. Hal had unlocked the AI’s algorithm and found a way to block the signal. “What’s going on?”

  “I require access to the control center. The advanced intellect is generating a disruption field through the pattern generators above.” The trife pointed toward the hair-like strands of metal. I am countering the waveforms, but the effects will not last indefinitely.”

  “How do we get there?”

  “We must enter the quantum teleportation unit. It will deliver us.”

  “Quantum teleportation?” He didn’t like the sound of it. “That’s the glass platform, right?”

  “Correct.”

  Caleb smiled. “That should be easy enough. We—“ He turned back around. A single, dark humanoid figure was standing between him and the teleporter. It was identical to him in size and shape, composed of a black mesh material that was similar to the alien alloy, only lighter and more flexible.

  “Where did Black Panther come from?” Flores asked.

  Caleb watched the figure fade away, replaced with a mirror image of himself. It offered a smug smile and took a step toward him.

  “Hal?” Caleb said.

  “A basic intellect,” Hal replied. “A simple machine.”

  “Simple in Axon terms or human terms?”

  “We must defeat it.”

  “You can’t do that on your own?”

  “It will be challenging. I require you to distract the others.”

  “Others?” Caleb said. “What others?”

  “Sergeant,” Dante said. Caleb looked at her. She was looking back the way they had entered. He followed her gaze outside the tower. A mass of trife were gathering there.

  “They are servants of the advanced intellect,” Hal said.

  “You led them here?” Caleb replied.

  “No. They were already here. Lying in wait. I do not understand all that is occurring, but I must learn the truth. I expected resistance. That is why I brought you here. I require you to get me to the control center. Then we will both have answers.”

  Caleb eyed the trife. There were more of them outside than he had seen in the jungle, and they had barely escaped that mess with their lives. Not that it mattered. They had no choice except to fight. The AI running the show wanted them dead, and if it couldn’t make them kill themselves, it was going to throw everything it had at them until it was over.

  “Guardians, defensive positions. Flores, Dante—P-50s, opposite flanks, take cover behind the barriers. Washington, Liam with Flores. Paisley, Kiaan with Dante. Now!” He got the last word out just as the so-called ‘basic’ intellect grabbed a not-so-basic weapon from its back and aimed it at him.

  Behind them, the trife released a loud, synchronous hiss and charged.

  Chapter 54

  There was no time for Caleb to find cover from the Basic Intellect’s attack. The weapon, a rifle Flores would probably relate to a prop from a random sci-fi movie she had seen, came to bear on him, the perfect visual reproduction of himself laughing at his impending death.

  The weapon fired, a soft thwip sounding from the gun. Caleb didn’t see anything fire from it, but the next thing he knew Hal was in front of him, and something hit the faux trife with enough velocity to punch right through it and deep into Caleb’s ATCS. The force of the shot knocked him onto his back and sent Hal tumbling away.

  Caleb scrambled, trying to get to his feet. The trife were charging the room behind them, pouring into the channel that led into the tower, hissing and screaming with a bloodlust he had never before heard from the demons. He had only seconds to roll to his feet and join the other Guardians on one of the flanks. As if he had seconds to do anything. The BI was probably half a millisecond away from firing the round that would end him for good.

  Gunfire echoed in the room, but none of the oncoming trife fell. Caleb saw that the first barrage wasn’t targeting the demons, aimed at the BI instead. It raised its forearm in response to the attack, the rounds hitting an invisible barrier around it and clinking harmlessly on the ground.

  “Shields?” Flores said. “This isn’t Star Trek, damn it.” She whirled, about to fire her plasma rifle at the thing.

  “Flores, focus on the trife,” Caleb snapped, “All of you, we have to slow them down.”

  Hal was already up, rushing the BI and forcing it to redirect its aim. It fired again, but Hal was one second ahead of it, having already calculated the most probable time and direction of the shot in order to avoid it. The AI dodged three more nearly-silent rounds before slashing toward the BI’s gun hand.

  The BI pulled its weapon aside, jumping back and producing a second weapon. Hal was on it instantly, claws slashing into the machine’s hand and ripping the weapon away.

  Caleb felt the heat of the plasma streams as Flores and Dante unleashed hell beside him. They caught the lead line of trife in a crossfire, burning them to the floor. Washington and Paige added to the defense a moment later, picking off demons on the outer edge of the stream.

  Caleb looked at his HUD. The trife were only appearing on his tactical as they entered the tower, the entire mass outside invisible to his assisted view. Even so, there were marks taking up over half of the small screen, a mass of deep red rushing their position. He looked back at them, watching trife after trife charge into the plasma and die, only to be replaced by another desperate creature.

  “Watch your charge!” Caleb shouted at the Guardians. The stream would burn through a cartridge in less than a minute at their current rate of use. “Cut the range.”

  “Roger,” Flores said. She adjusted the weapon, shortening the distance the stream stretched out from the gun and conserving some of its fuel. Dante did the same, allowing the demons to get closer before catching them in the fire.

  And allowing the first few to break through.

  Caleb took a fighting stance as the first trife rushed him. It fell a moment later, the side of its head exploding outward when a bullet found its brain. Two more followed after it, not even trying to use any kind of strategy in their attack. The demons were in a frenzy, the Intellect’s control over them whipping them to desperation. They nearly tripped over one another in their mindless rush to get to Caleb, allowing him to gain the upper hand. He grabbed the first trife by the head with his replacement arm, using its strength to drive the demon to the floor and cave in its skull. The second had patches of embedded alloy armor on its head and neck, so Caleb dispatched it by tossing it backwards into the plasma stream.

  “Hal, whatever you’re doing hurry up!” Caleb shouted. He didn’t need his HUD to see the trife were gaining ground, and the plasma was going to run out of ammunition too damn soon. “Guardians, fall back!”

  All six of them rose from their defensive positions, moving backwards. Flores had the experience to ask Liam to find them another roosting place, and he helped guide them to an overturned desk or statue of some kind. Kiaan didn’t know to do the same, leaving the right flank too far forward in the assault.