Earth Liberation
Audiobook · Earth Liberation: The Novel (Part I)
Chapter 9
Submarine “Lemuria”, the Indian Ocean
February 10, 2079
Sergeant Deli was walking along the narrow passage, bending down between the sections. Damned submarine! It was not scaled to fit his height. He knew he should just get used to it, but it was almost impossible.
The submarine buzzed and vibrated, a sign that the reactors were providing the turbines with full power. Where were they heading? Deli didn’t know, but hoped so much that it would be possible to see the open-skies there and to finally feel a human, not a sailor.
The guardian led him to the door of the captain’s cabin. Den overstepped the coaming and gave a salute.
"General, sergeant Deli has arrived, reporting as ordered."
"At ease, sergeant, sit down," General Mauritz, General-in-Chief of the Resistance army, pointed at the chair.
Mauritz wasn’t alone in the cabin. At first glance, his company was unusual. General Furnier, some old man, out of uniform. Captain Mathias Horvat from the EU marine. Redheaded Angela Rothrock (Deli saw her at the Kerguelen practices), and finally two common soldiers from Deli’s training troop, the Englishmen-fellows Riley Dillon and Marcus Northon. They had only one thing in common. Each of them had a white metal amulet shaped as the emblem of the Earth Alliance over their clothes.
Deli knew perfectly well what it meant. Far before the invasion, in Cape Town, when he entered the Alliance and passed the probation, he was a junior in the Dragon Fighters. Then he was told that the Amulet is the supreme merit badge, that there were only seven of them in the world (and maybe there are unknown somewhere), that the amulets are artefacts of a civilization that had existed on the Earth before the Ice Age...
All that was amazing, but why was he invited here?
"Brothers and sister, all of you know brother Deli," Mauritz began to speak. He looked tired, there were bags under his eyes. "Everybody knows how he was distinguished in Kerguelen, when the pangolins discovered us and it was necessary to cover the withdrawal. I believe that brother Deli is more worthy of wearing an amulet than all of us sitting here. Do you have any objections?"
The audience only nodded. Mauritz turned to Den: "Forgive us, brother, that we don’t observe the ritual - the time and the place are not very suitable. Since now you are in the Order of the Amulet Holders".
The General turned to the old man in civilian clothes: "Brother Lorenzo, now we all know that the amulet is not just a symbol, it’s a weapon. You remain one of us, but…"
Lorenzo nodded with dignity. "I understand that brother Deli needs it more than I do". He took off the amulet and held it on to Den. "Wear it honourably, brother".
"Thank you, sir...brother..."
Den got up, confused and bewildered. Of course, he expected a reward for Kerguelen, but not that kind of reward. Now everyone came up to him with congratulations and handshakes. Northon and Dillon didn't seem very sincere, but that wasn't surprising - he's loaded them up during training.
When everybody returned to the table, and Deli took his place as equal, Mauritz began to speak again:
"Brothers and sister, I got you together not only for brother Deli’s initiation. We have seven amulets. Six of them were handed over inside the Order, and one more" he cast a look to Rothrock, "separately. But initially there were seven amulets in the Order. There’s one missing. I’m talking about the amulet of our headman, the Great Spearman Greg O’Neal". Mauritz paused wearily. "In recent years he has been living on his ranch in Western Australia. Since the beginning of the invasion I've had no contact with him. I do not know whether he is alive or dead ... But we need him". Mauritz gave a careful glance around the brothers.
"Firstly, our fraternal duty is to save him. I could draw down the curtain here, but I’ll go on. Secondly, even if he is dead, we need his amulet. And, thirdly, brother O'Neal has gathered a priceless collection of materials about the pre-glacial civilization. The most important among them is the map. The map of underground bases that have probably survived to the present day, and where their armouries are kept. The super weapon of the ancestors. The ones they used to destroy the pangolins during the first invasion. Does everyone understand what it means?". Everybody nodded in silence.
"We are going to Australia," Mauritz concluded. "You all participate in the operation. Captain Horvat is commanding, he will explain the dispositions and your functions. Do you have any questions?"
"Thank you, everyone is free now". And with that, Mauritz lay back in his chair and closed his eyes.
Geraldton District, Western Australia
February, 15, 2079
The gigantic, glossy “Lemuria” broke surface ten miles from the shore. The sky was clear, the sea was light. The missile launcher fired a volley, and a dozen of short-range missiles rushed in the sky, spewing jets of fire.
The coastal defence pyramids of the pangolins spotted them with radars and aimed positron cannons at the top. The rockets detached cover targets. The pangolins, not aware of the combat manoeuvres of the earthians, had shot their bolt. The rockets hit the targets, and each air burst destroyed a pyramid.
The mechanoids left the pyramids in time. They were fanning out across the shore, ready to meet the enemy, but the second wave of death was already approaching them. The second wave of rockets burst out into hundreds of small winged warheads, kamikaze drones, self-guided to the thermal and electromagnetic radiation of the mechanoids. Several seconds of fire hell - and silence fell. Only the waves were whispering slightly and licking blood, ash, pieces of flesh and fragments of ceramic metal off the snow-white edge of the shore.
The Lemuria had smashed a hole in the defences of the pangolins, but the operation has just started. The ramps were launched from the boards of an enormous submarine, and landing vehicles came down to the surface of the water - tanks and launcher vehicles. There was a passenger sitting in each of them - an armoured infantryman in an exoskeleton. The amphibious vehicles headed to the shore in breaking waves, and “Lemuria” opened its front trapdoor - the widest one - and let out the largest machine: The ground effect landing craft.
The wings opened, the propellers began to rotate, and the craft followed the amphibs, flying low over the water. It overcame them, crossed the surf line and flew above the plain inland - towards O’Neal’s ranch.
Meanwhile the submarine sunk down again. The tanks and the missile launchers that were located around the perimeter of the bridgehead held their positions. The armoured infantrymen took their positions in the ruins of pyramids, while flocks of small drones-scouts scattered northward and southward. The access to the sea had to be consolidated by all means before the recovery of the ground-effect craft could take place.
\*\*\*
Trooper Riley Dillon was sitting on the bench in a half empty landing compartment and was staring through the glass wall for lack of anything better to do. The ground-effect craft was flying low above the outback - a plain burnt desert with scraggy bushes. A shower of dust was following it. Here and there a herd of emaciated sheep was visible in the distance. But there was nothing more to look at.
"By cripes!" Riley exclaimed. "It’s a kangaroo! A real kangaroo, sergeant!"
"Holy Christ! They really exist!"
Sergeant Deli looked at him frowningly.
"Dillon, are you stupid?"
"Negative, sir."
"Then sit down and don’t play the fool. There are aliens here, and you are talking about kangaroos".
Sergeant Deli, the group commander, was sitting opposite Riley. He was dressed in light armour and a helmet with a tactical display over his cammies. He was armed with a tommy gun.
Since they hadn't expected to meet the pangolins in the solitude of the outback, they didn't take any heavy armaments with them. The plan was as follows: To make round trip as soon as possible, before the pangolins had recollected themselves. Deli decided not to take more people, so as not to overload the ground-effect craft. There were four of them - Riley, the sergeant, pilot Landis and second pilot Rothrock.
Finally the ground-effect craft landed near the ranch. A long squat white house with a solar panel roof, and a few palms around it. It didn't look like the residency of the head of a millenary secret order. Riley jumped out of the trapdoor, following the sergeant into the infernal heat of the Australian summer day, and they rushed to the house. The amulet was calm. No pangolins here.
The door of the house was broken down, a curtain was fluttering in the wind.
"He isn’t here," the sergeant said. "He's not here alive, at least. Mister O’Neal? Brother O’Neal? "
There was nothing but silence.
The air in the room was hot and unconditioned. The owner’s body was lying n the hallway - more correctly, it was almost a skeleton. It had been picked by some animals (Riley hoped that humans hadn’t done that). The remains of flesh had become mummified in the dry air and almost didn’t smell. A bathrobe was on the remains of the Great Spearman, a shotgun in his hands, bullet holes in his skull and chest - it seemed that he had died defending his home from some tramps. The amulet, untouched by the robbers, was hanging on his neck. The sergeant removed it and put into the relief pouch.
"Okay, Dillon, now let’s look for the map".
The kitchen was completely ravaged, the living room looked as if the tramps had stayed overnight there many times, but the library appeared to be untouched. Riley’s mouth formed an O. The whole ample hall was full of bookcases, and each of them was stuffed with volumes from floor to ceiling.
"Oh, My God, paper books! Are there all books of the world here? What do you think, sir, has he read all of them?"
"Shut up, Dillon. We must find that fucking map". The sergeant took off his helmet and thoughtfully scratched his head. "There must be a catalogue in the computer," he said and immediately reached for his amulet, and then his gun.
Riley also felt fever in his chest. The pangolins! He turned to the door with his arms at the ready, but heard a shot from far away and the amulet became cold and deactivated at once.
"Rothrock?" the sergeant spoke into the microphone.
"Here. That was a drone, and I brought it down". Angela’s calm voice sounded from the communication helmet.
"Received." The sergeant nodded to Dillon. "So, now they know about us. "
"Let’s move on. Go and check the electricity". He headed to the table with the computer.
All the switches on the electric board were up. But when Riley returned to the library, the monitor was still black.
"The solar panels have got dusty, the voltage is low" Deli decided. "Dillon, take Landis with you, go to the roof and dust it. Double-time!"
Riley screwed up his face. Take a dust bath for an hour long... "Sir, maybe we can connect it to the portable generator?" he suggested.
The sergeant thought for a while and nodded.
"By the way, it makes sense. The plug is standard, it must work". He stuck the output of the portable battery behind his back into the computer and, lo and behold, the monitor switched on and the download started…
"What are you muttering, Dillon? "
"I’m praying that there’s no password, sir."
It seemed that the sergeant wanted to swear an oath, but some clicking and jamming was heard from the communication helmets.
"Temple, I’m Shore...Temple, I’m Shore… " captain Horvat’s voice was heard through the clicking.
"Shore, I’m Temple. We are there," Deli responded. "O’Neal is dead, we’ve got his amulet; we are searching for the map".
"Temple, groups of pangolins are approaching us from the side of Cape-Burney and Geraldton. They'll arrive in about two to three minutes. They have diplodocuses and large missile carrying pteranodons. Hurry up!"
"Copy that...Oh, shit!" The password prompt box appeared on the monitor.
"Why don’t we have a hacker with us?" The sergeant slammed his fist on the table.
Riley breathed loudly and gave a glance around the bookcases.
"We’ve got the amulet, sir. Maybe we should go and take the computer with us. Our guys can hack into it later. I’m talking seriously, sir!"
"We won't get another chance. The drone has discovered us. Now the pangolins know that for some reason we are interested in this location...So, Dillon, let’s quickly look through all the bookcases. You from this side, I from the other, we are looking for anything that looks like it could be a map. A folder, a web, or…"
"Sir!" Riley pointed to the wall just above the computer desk. A map of the world with some hand-drawn signs was hanging there. "Is it the thing we are looking for, sir?"
Deli looked up at the map, which had been right before his eyes all this time and shook his head.
"Holy shit, Dillon! Let’s take it and get out of here".
As Riley was detaching the card, the amulet on his chest became warm again. Immediately the sound of alien weapon was heard from far away, the spurts of fire followed. Rothrock’s voice sounded in the communication helmet:
"Sir, there’s one large pterodactyl and a whole fucking bunch of small of them here!"
"We're coming!"
The sergeant ran and Riley followed him, folding the map and putting it into the relief pouch. There was shooting outside; the amulet was hot, the energy, burning and wild, ran through their veins. They ran out to the hallway and lay under the windows. There was a strange battle outside. Metallic pterodactylus were circling above the ground-effect craft and crying with thin piping voices; the antiaircraft machine gun was shooting at them non-stop, but it didn’t hit them. That was obviously Landis shooting, he didn’t have an amulet. Rothrock ran in a random manner, then fell into the bushes, firing single shots that hit and killed the creatures every time. The pterodactylus were showering her with black rays, but missed. Every time they fired, she managed to get out of the line of fire, just in time. Having sized up the situation, the sergeant and Riley began to shoot at them from the windows. Thanks to the amulets, they also didn’t miss.
A minute later all the mechanoids were lying dead in the dried grass. But the amulet was still hot.
"One more large one! On go-around!" warned Angela.
In that instant, a pterodactyl as big as an albatross did a nosedive, croaked in triumph and shot at the machine gun with something black. The explosion burnt the eyes, but the blindness passed immediately. Three submachine gun burst hit the pterosaur. With torn wings, he fell on the ground-effect craft and lifelessly sank to the ground. There was a bloodstained hole in the covering on the location of the blister. The amulet on Riley’s chest was slowly chilling.
"Landis?" Deli called. There was no answer. There was hardly anything left of the pilot after such an explosion. The sergeant remained silent for several seconds. "Rothrock, will you manage it alone?".
The ground-effect craft was flying, its propellers roared. The wind was groaning in the hole of the blister, but in the landing compartment the draught almost wasn’t felt. Riley was sitting on the bench, leaning back wearily. Nobody wanted to talk.
There was some noise in the communication helmets.
"Temple, I’m Shore, paint the picture…"
"Shore, I’m Temple," the sergeant responded. "Pilot Landis is killed, we’ve got
the artefacts, we are going back."
"Temple, I’m Shore. The pangolins arrived. We are in the fight".
\*\*\*
Black ruins of the pyramid were still smouldering. But Marcus didn’t feel the heat through the armadillo suit. Here, in the labyrinth of pylons, fragments of walls and crashed beams, was the most safe place for him. Here he can find shelter, and there’s nothing more important now.
The battle was almost over. The tanks and the missile weapons have already performed their job - they shot as many pteranodons and diplodocuses as they could on the long range. The score was 1:0 for the pangolins: they had one diplodocus left, and the earthian machines had all been destroyed. There were only armoured infantrymen left, hiding in the ruins. Marcus and three others. And now small raptors were hunting for them.
The mysterious energy of the amulet was running across Marcus’s veins as a liquid fire. Because of its power, he felt the raptors approaching and managed to escape every time. Several times he shot the creatures with his grenade launcher or even from the automatic rifle when he stalked closer, but there were plenty of them. The game of hide-and-seek couldn’t last much longer.
There was a map glowing in the corner of the tactical display, and the point of the ground-effect craft on it. It seemed to be crawling very slow, and Marcus had to stand before its arrival. It would be nice to put the rest of the diplodocus out of action, to battle the raptors for that, and to find weapons by some means, because the grenades were over, and the magazine was empty…
The raptors were surrounding him. Whether mechanic or living biped pangolins, each with a pair of guns instead of forefeet. They were not hiding any more: they realized that he was unarmed. They emerged from behind burned pylons here and there, slowly approaching, but they didn't shoot.
"Rendirse, vivir," a squeaky synthesized voice struck upon Marcus’s ear. "Surrender, live."
Marcus was slowly retreating. He saw a hole, the passage to the ground floor of the pyramid behind him. It wasn’t destroyed by the explosion. The only hope was to hide there and to find weapon. He was guessing that there was weapon…
He jumped into the hole. The hydromechanics of the knee joints of mechanoid broke the fall from three meters height. He ran along the dark passage with a partly caved ceiling.
He heard clanging behind him, as the raptors followed him into the hole.
Hot energy was rising from the cervical vessels to the brain, was hammering in his temples. Marcus was running, jumping over the heaps, turning to the side passages, as if he wasn’t there for the first time and knew exactly what to do…
Marcus? What Marcus?
He is Zargno-y-Sagrit-y-Garmal, the senior rhombus keeper of Antalasmen Occult Guard.
And yes, he has already been inside the same pyramid. That time chrasters have killed him. But the rhombus made of smart substance has memorized the plan of the location perfectly.
He, Zargno-y-Sagrit-y-Garmal, knows exactly: farther, after the second turn, is the officer armoury. There are plenty of batteries and positron guns there.
The room was full of glowing blue boxes and heavy guns. Marcus already knew how to use the boxes. His mechanoid had a charging adapter. He pushed it in the connector of the battery, and the blue glow went out immediately, the box collapsed and full charge was indicated on the screen. Then Marcus charged the gun and took it in his arms as if he had used it all his life, though the gunstock as well as the trigger were uncomfortable - designed for big tridactyls.
The raptors were approaching along the passage. Northon pushed the trigger and made a snap shot.
Somewhere in the bowels of the gun a hyper dense discharge broke through the quantum vacuum, turning the virtual particles into real in the chain reaction, producing avalanches of neutrino-antineutrino and electron-positron pairs. Pulsed UV laser pierced the air with an ionization channel, clearing the way for the target particles. A bipolar accelerator threw two jets - electrons and positrons - from the stock. Helically curling around each other, moving closer on each stage, they rushed toward the goal at relativistic speeds. They met and annihilated.
There were no raptors in the passage any more. A part of the passage was absent as well.
The map on display indicated that the ground-effect craft is already nearby. Marcus took from the armoury as many guns and batteries as he could manage and moved up.
It took him three shots to destroy the diplodocus. He didn’t want to spare such heavy charges on the raptors, but there was nothing more left.
By the time the ground-effect craft finally arrived, lifting clouds of dust and ash, the amulet had already got cool. Marcus was exhausted.
The craft, heavily loaded with the aliens’ weapon and the bodies of the earthians, was barely creeping above the water.
Marcus and the other survived trooper were lying on the wings. Far ahead the conning tower of Lemuria was breaking surface of the water. But Northon wasn't joyful about the come-back. Something in him - some sense - didn't let him relax.
At the expense of several dozens of lives, at the cost of tanks, missiles, mechanoids and even common bullets, non-reproductible because of the absence of armaments industry, they got the map, the amulet and some armament of the pangolins. Perhaps, it was well worth it. Perhaps, the operation succeeded.
Marcus realized well enough that the operation had come to its end, but the war had just begun.