Obsidian Detective Read online

  Now that the rumble was close, it was familiar. The lower pressure of the atmosphere had changed the sound, but Erik recognized it.

  “It must be the Dragon,” Biyu suggested. “No wonder they’re running away.”

  “No. It’s not the Dragon. Too noisy,” the major answered.

  Something nagged at the edge of Erik’s thoughts, but he didn’t have long to consider the surprise. Several explosions rocked the warehouse. Hot metal flew from the roof, along with several drones. The soldiers jumped or ran to avoid the avalanche of debris, but large chunks of the roof crashed down on three and buried them.

  An unmarked black craft zoomed overhead, its engines at full burn and its secondary thrusters on the sides and front rotating for a quick turn. The thruster layout, narrow wings, and thrust instead of grav engine suggested a vehicle meant primarily for Zero-G operations. They’d gone from a couple of terrorists infiltrating the mine to squads of exoskeletons with prototype gear and fighters, plus the enemy also had military-grade jamming.

  Erik slapped his comm to broadcast at full strength on all frequencies. “Base, this is Knight One. We are under fire and need immediate friendly air support.”

  Another series of explosions ripped the warehouse apart.

  “Back to the mine,” Erik ordered.

  “What?” Biyu snapped her head in his direction. “They might be in there, too.”

  “We can win against the exoskeletons,” Erik pointed out. “We’re not going to win against a fighter.” He looked at his platoon display. The buried troops were already dead. The only thing he could offer them now was revenge. “Go! Let’s take a few bastards out along our way.” He charged forward and held down the trigger, sweeping from side to side as he emerged.

  The enemy exoskeletons crouched, their shields in front of them. Maybe if the enemies were facing a few militia with normal rifles, they might have survived, but the high-velocity rounds and explosives of the Knights overwhelmed their shields, armor, and tactical suits and gave many of them a one-way ticket to hell.

  The soldiers had made it halfway to the mine entrance when the fighter made another pass. Erik expected a strafing run or missiles, but it screamed overhead, not firing. A couple seconds passed before he spotted the bomb dropping straight toward the warehouse.

  “MOVE!” Erik bellowed.

  The bomb struck the building and a massive red-white blast consumed it, the roar like an angry giant’s. Its hungry shockwave cut into the fleeing soldiers, picking them up and strewing them about the landscape.

  Men and women screamed over the comm. Green turned to red on his platoon status display as soldier after soldier died.

  Erik didn’t even realize he was soaring through the air, his armor flashing and beeping at him, until he crashed into the wall of the tunnel and thudded to the ground. He let out a soft groan and managed to open his eyes.

  Black exoskeletons appeared at the edge of his vision, this time taking carefully aimed shots at the downed and vulnerable soldiers—at least the few who survived.

  Biyu jerked as a man finished her off. Then Ahuja. O’Malley. Pena. Jekowski. Others gasped, their cracked helmets letting precious oxygen escape before their assassins shot them.

  With a growl, Erik slammed the emergency release on his exoskeleton and crawled out, his body screaming in pain and the frigid air of the moon slicing at his burnt and exposed flesh. His exoskeleton was destroyed and his skin exposed, but he still had a helmet, and even without the backup unit, that meant he had enough air to at least take few more of the enemy with him.

  He reached over with his cybernetic arm, the wounds and burns on his natural right arm making it all but useless. With a couple of quick yanks and slaps, he reloaded the TR-7 and aimed it, gritting his teeth.

  I’ll make you pay. You murdering bastards slaughtered my people, and as long as I’m breathing, I won’t stop until everyone responsible pays.

  Erik pulled the trigger, catching a nearby enemy by surprise. The four-barrel burst caught him in an exposed weak side, and he yowled in pain. With a bestial roar, Erik held down the trigger, finishing off the first man and then moving on to a second. A third man fell before the enemy fired another quick shot.

  A wave of pain shot through Erik’s chest, and he slumped, his rifle falling out of his hand.

  Two more men in exoskeletons came into his vision, carrying a huge metal container between them.

  Why, Lady? You abandoned us, but at least let me live long enough for revenge.

  His eyes closed.

  Chapter Four

  March 8, 2227, United Terran Confederation (UTC) Standard Date. Mu Arae System, Molino, First Moon of Planet Quijote

  The doctor checked the vitals, confirming the male patient was still “inside” his shell. When he leaned over him, he noticed the man’s eyeballs jerking erratically.

  “Patient is mentally aware.” Doctor James looked at the sensors connected to the body. “Looks to be a dream, or perhaps a memory.” He glanced down at his wrist-tablet and typed in a couple of commands. “We will need to pull him out of the forced coma soon.”

  The doctor made sure all the filters were correct. Although nothing should have changed, it never hurt to verify his expectations.

  On his way out of the small rehabilitation room in the med center, the doctor turned and eyed the soldier. “I hope your dreams are pleasant, Major, whatever they are.”

  With that, he moved his hand down, and the lights went to ten percent.

  The beeps continued rhythmically long after the silver doors closed.

  Erik groaned and opened his eyes, then squinted at the bright light above him. Soft voices murmured around him. They sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place them. He lifted his head, his eyes finally having adjusted. He was lying on a comfortable railed bed lined up with several empty ones.

  The med center.

  A soft beep sounded from the bed. Silver medpatches were all over his body. Most of his major wounds were at least sealed. A familiar warmth suffused his body, a sign of the medical nanobots doing their steady, indefatigable work. They might not be able to regrow a limb, but they could fix most damage short of that.

  A man stepped into the room through the open doorway. He’d been speaking to a couple of other people outside. He pressed a button, and the silver door slid closed behind him. Even without the white and red uniform, Erik would have recognized him. There weren’t a huge number of doctors in such a tiny colony.

  “Doctor James,” Erik croaked out, his voice rough. “The Dragon finally showed up?”

  He was still confused by how the vehicle could have fought off a fighter.

  Doctor James shook his head. “Xingguan and local UTC security traveled to the location when you didn’t check in. There was some sort of computer problem with your air vehicle. When they arrived, they found the battle site.” He sighed. “What remained of it, anyway. I’ll be honest. Xingguan is furious over the damage to the mine and how long it’ll take them to repair it. Considering what happened, I would think they would be more understanding. At least all the terrorists are dead.”

  Erik shook his head. “They had a fighter. How did the locals take that down?” His mind was not tracking well. “They don’t even have something equivalent to the Dragon.”

  Doctor James shrugged. “I don’t know all the details. I was only informed that the terrorists are all dead. Apparently, the few terrorist survivors were killed when they put up resistance after the security forces showed up.”

  “That’s not possible.” Erik sat up and groaned.

  “You shouldn’t strain yourself, Major.” Doctor James gently pushed him down. “You were very close to dying. If anything, I’d say it was only luck that saved you.”

  “Luck?” Erik eyed the doctor. “No, I think years of bad luck finally caught up with me.”

  Doctor James reached into a pocket and pulled out a bent dog tag. He offered it to Erik. “This is yours. You were seriousl
y injured, and the best I can tell, this deflected a bullet meant for your heart.” He flicked the piece of metal with a finger. “This little tag saved your life and made sure we didn’t get to use it for its intended purpose.”

  Erik reached out and gingerly took the dog tag. “I knew these things were tough, but I didn’t realize they were that tough.” He looked around the otherwise empty room. “Where are my troops? I’m not an idiot, and I was paying attention. I know several of them went down, but where are the survivors? You got some converted room somewhere? I need to know who is left alive. I already have too many messages to write to families as it is.”

  Doctor James’ face tightened, and he took a deep breath. “There’s no easy way to say this, Major.”

  “Just tell me,” Erik growled. “This isn’t the time to worry about sparing my feelings. I’m not happy, but this isn’t the first time I’ve lost people on a mission.”

  “You’re the only survivor.” Doctor James averted his eyes. “Obviously, the small number of support personnel and the pilots who were at the base are unharmed, but all of the other soldiers, all forty-nine of them, were dead upon the arrival of the security teams.”

  Erik narrowed his eyes. “Everyone?” He gritted his teeth. “Some of them had to have survived.”

  “I’m sorry, Major. It is what it is.” Doctor James nodded. “You should rest. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I know the governor is ready to speak to you when you’re in a little better shape. My condolences. Those were good men and women, and they didn’t deserve to die at the hands of terrorists.”

  Erik thought about it for a moment, working with his clouded thoughts.

  Those weren’t terrorists. I don’t know what’s going on here, but there is absolutely no way the men who ambushed us were terrorists.

  Those pieces of garbage were tools. Well supplied and trained tools, but tools, nonetheless. No.

  He closed his eyes.

  This rot goes higher.

  Erik dropped into the comfortable black synthetic leather chair in front of the colonial governor’s massive glass desk. Other than the impressive furniture, including a high-backed chair reminiscent of a throne, the office was surprisingly spartan, with only a few paintings completing the decoration.

  There was something about governors and paintings.

  Erik had never seen a colonial governor’s office that didn’t have a painting or two. He didn’t see the point, but maybe it was a way for them to pretend they were still on Earth and continuing the ancient traditions of leaders from the distant past.

  Perhaps it was a way of implying status and wealth, two things he cared very little about, even if thirty years of frontier service, hazard pay, and smart investing had left him well off.

  Erik hissed slightly as he settled into the chair. The nanobots helped with the pain and the wounds. It’d been almost two weeks since the battle, and the little machines continued to knit him back together.

  Pain is weakness leaving the body.

  A slight weight rested on his chest underneath his shirt: his bent dog tag. They had mentioned fabricating him a new one, but he wanted to keep the old one as a symbol of when his luck had failed him, and as a remembrance of all the other Knights who had died outside that mine at the hands of their mysterious enemy.

  Governor Anders, a pale brown-haired man with a perpetually harried expression, sighed behind his desk. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to speak to you in the hospital, Major, but I wanted to give you time to recover and collect your thoughts before we discussed the incident. I’ve been doing my part to look into it. I’ve sent only the most basic reports out, but if they decided to bounce it all the way back to Earth…” He sighed again. “Well, it’ll be a while.”

  “You’ve investigated?” Erik asked.

  The governor pursed his lips. “Yes, what little we have the capability of doing here. It’s not as if this is a core world or even a reasonably mature colony.”

  Erik grunted and shook his head. “It wasn’t terrorists, Governor Anders. I want that noted right here and right now.”

  “So I’ve been informed you’ve said.” The governor licked his lips. “You’re the expert in this sort of thing, so I’m inclined to trust your judgment.” He looked Erik in the eyes. “But are you sure about that?” The governor seemed to be pushing Erik, making him answer.

  “Don’t screw with me.” Erik slammed a fist on the desk. The entire top rattled despite its mass. “I know what I saw. Exoskeletons? A fighter? Optical camouflage?” He shook his head. “Those guys were better equipped than my platoon, and they had the technical know-how to hack systems here. Additionally, I don’t understand why there was a locked door in that mine that wouldn’t take my emergency military credentials.”

  Governor Anders took a long, deep breath and slowly let it out. “I know it’s small comfort, Major, but I agree with you.”

  Erik narrowed his eyes. “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning there are…inconsistencies in some of the reports and records.” The governor shook his head. “Let’s face it, I might be the official UTC governor of this colony, but I’m basically just here to sit in a chair since Xingguan controls everything. But that’s just the thing; even the Xingguan representatives here seem confused by what happened, and of course, they’re in a panic because the mine complex was half-collapsed by obvious bombing. They’re desperate for any UTC help they can get, either in repair or investigation.”

  Erik pondered that for a moment. “Xingguan wants you to investigate further?”

  Governor Anders nodded. “They’ve practically insisted that we do so. I think the local company reps are all convinced they’re going to be recalled over this.” He shrugged. “The problem is, as I implied earlier, we don’t exactly have access to great investigative resources. It’s obvious that even though our satellites, drones, and cameras were disrupted, the damage to the mine could have only been done by a vehicle such as you described. We’re attempting to scour the moon for any sign, and we’re failing. The in-system destroyer is searching for them as well, but they’ve found nothing, and they’re concerned about straying too far from the colony now, given the attack.”

  Erik leaned back, nodding slowly. If everyone agreed, that made things easier. “Then we need to get additional resources here. Investigators. More ships.”

  Governor Anders shook his head. “If you want to stick around and convince the next governor of that, you’re welcome to, but I’ve already requested a transfer. I’m even willing to take a demotion.”

  “I don’t blame you for what happened to my unit.” Erik narrowed his eyes again. “Running away won’t bring them back.”

  “You don’t understand.” He leaned forward in his chair to look Erik in the eye. “I do feel bad about what happened to your soldiers, but this is simply base cowardice on my part, nothing more.” Governor Anders let out a nervous laugh as he waved a hand around. “I thought I could improve my career here. When I was assigned here, there was still a good chance war would break out, but I didn’t worry. I figured that with a UTC fleet in orbit, I’d be safe. I’d get all the credit and take none of the risk, but then this happened.” He raised an eyebrow. “Major, I’ve spent the last week looking into things, and I’ve come to the conclusion there is no way those kinds of assets made planetfall without someone helping them.”

  There was a definite pause before he continued.

  “Someone on the inside,” the governor finished. “I don’t know if it was UTC or Xingguan, because we both seem clueless, but there’s something bad happening here, and I don’t think it has anything to do with terrorists.”

  “Who?” Erik held back a growl. “You must have at least some idea.”

  “No, I don’t know, and it’s why I’ve requested a transfer.” The governor paused, looking off into the distance as if he were contemplating the stupidity of his next action before focusing on Erik again. “I was looking into some things using my administrativ
e codes. I’m supposed to know about everything going on in this colony, in theory. Even if the company keeps secrets, I’m still supposed to know in general what they’re planning.”

  He stopped, so Erik pushed him. “And?”

  Anders shook his head. “I found a few encrypted messages with message tracking codes originating from the Neo Southern California Metroplex back on Earth. Even more suspicious, the messages were sent some time ago, but conveniently arrived a couple of days before the auditor. He only came from a few gates over, but the message timing is interesting.”

  He stared at Erik, the silence lengthening before he asked, “Major, you know how long it takes to get a message from Earth out here?”

  “About two months, right?”

  “Exactly.”

  Erik frowned. “And where exactly did the messages come from in Neo SoCal? That’s basically, what…half a state with a hundred million people?”

  Anders shook his head. “I don’t know. That’s all I could discover with my resources here. You’d have to take that up with Hermes Corp, and I doubt they’re going to crack open their records just because we ask them to. There’s another problem, anyway.”

  Governor Anders took a deep breath, and his eyes darted around for a few seconds as if he expected terrorists to kick in his door. “This is what’s got me really worried. I was going to send those messages off since I didn’t have any idea how to decode them, but this morning when I went to check on them, the messages were gone. Deleted from my system, with no evidence they ever existed or that I’d ever accessed them.”

  “Somebody’s covering something up.” Erik leaned back just a bit, folding his arms. “Xingguan?”

  “No.” A sharp shake of his head. “It’s like I told you. They’ve been encouraging an investigation, including into their systems. If they are responsible, their local representatives aren’t in the loop.” He tapped the top of his desk at each of his points. “They’re in a complete panic about the damage to the mine. It’ll take months to get it back up to capacity, and it might take months to identify the terrorists, and that’s assuming our requests don’t mysteriously disappear on the way back to Earth.”