Deathstalker Rebellion (53 page)

Frost reached out cautiously with her gloved hand to tap the lid of the coffin, and her hand sank through the shining surface as though it was some silvery liquid. And inside the
coffin, something grabbed her armored hand and squeezed it hard. She lurched forward, caught off balance, and her arm plunged further through the lid and into the coffin. She quickly braced herself against the steel floor and pulled back, but whatever had hold of her wouldn’t release its grip. She could feel the pressure, even through her armored glove. She gritted her teeth, snarling under her featureless helmet, and pulled back with all her strength. The suit’s servomechanisms whined loudly. Her arm slowly reappeared from the lid, and then her glove, clasped by a dead white human hand.

The weight on her arm was suddenly lessened as a dead white face appeared through the shining lid like a drowned man’s face surfacing in a river, and then the dead man was out of his coffin and standing before Frost, smiling, still holding her hand in his. Her first thought was that it was a Fury, one of Shub’s killing machines in a human skin, but then she saw the marks of drastic surgery unhidden on his shaved skull, and she knew at once what had happened to the
Champion
’s crew. He was a Ghost Warrior. All around her, dead men were emerging from the silver coffins, like vile gray butterflies bursting out of shimmering cocoons. The man before her wore a dated fleet uniform, torn and stained with long-dried blood where his death wounds had been. His skin was dead-white, and though his smile was inhumanly wide, there was no emotion in his face and no life in his unblinking eyes. She could hear Silence shouting at her to get away from the dead man, but his gaze held her like a hook she could wriggle on but not escape. The dead men were rising everywhere now, silent and calm, their movements filled with an implacable purpose.

And then the blast from an energy weapon tore away the head of the man before her, and the headless body slumped to its knees. She was suddenly herself again, freed from the dead gaze, and she fell back a step, tugging at her captured hand. The pale fingers still gripped her firmly, despite all her struggles. Frost drew the sword on her hip with her left hand and hacked savagely at the pale wrist. The blade sheared clean through, and she staggered backward, released. The dead hand still clutched at her glove, and she had to cut it away finger by finger as she hurried back to rejoin Silence and the others.

They were all firing now, energy bolts leaping from the
disrupters built into their gloves, and dead bodies were blown apart and slapped aside, but still the hundreds of dead moved purposefully forward. Frost took up her place between Silence and Cross, too angry to be frightened or worried. She’d fought every kind of alien in her time, and thought there was nothing left in the Empire that could throw her, but something in the dead man’s gaze had held her as securely as any chain. If Silence hadn’t blown its head off, she’d have been standing there still, until the dead overwhelmed her and dragged her away to make her one of them. She had no doubt it had been Silence who freed her. She’d have done the same for him. She took a deep breath and settled herself.

“Well,” she made herself say calmly, “at least now we know what happened to the
Champion
’s crew. Those bastard AIs somehow got their hands on them, scooped out their brains, and replaced them with their filthy computers. We’ve found a whole ship of Ghost Warriors.”

“Snub is right on the other side of the Empire,” said Silence. “But we’ll let that pass for the moment. It’ll be another two minutes before our disrupters recharge, and I have a strong feeling these creeps could manage something really unpleasant in that time, so everyone free your swords and back away. We are getting the hell out of here.”

There was a muffled clang behind them as the elevator doors slammed shut.

“That’s not possible,” said Frost. “I locked them open.”

“Someone’s watching,” said Cross. “And they don’t want us leaving just yet.”

“I’ll try the bridge,” said Silence. “Maybe they can override. Bridge, this is Silence. Can you hear me?” There was no reply, only an ominous quiet.

“Something’s got to them,” said Cross. “We’re on our own.”

The dead men stood facing them, row upon row, inhumanly still. One figure stepped forward, wearing an outdated Captain’s uniform. Silence tried to recognize Tomas Pearce, but the face before him held nothing of humanity in it. One eye was missing, replaced by a camera lens, and the scars of brutal surgery were clear on his forehead. He came to a halt before Silence, carefully out of a sword’s range, smiling widely as though he knew what a smile was supposed to convey, but didn’t know how. His kind weren’t used for di
plomacy or conversation. Ghost Warriors fought Shub’s battles with humanity, as much for psychological effect as any functional superiority. The dead man wore a gun and a sword on his hips, but so far had made no move to draw them. Silence found that disturbing. It implied the Ghost Warriors wanted him alive. Pearce’s lips moved, and Silence heard a slow, horribly impersonal voice through his comm implant. It was a machine talking—through a human mouth.

“Captain Silence. Investigator Frost. You must come with us.”

“Why us?” said Silence.

“Yeah,” said Cross. “I feel left out.”

“You are different,” said Pearce, his dead eyes still fixed on Silence and Frost. “Changed. It is necessary that we discover how.”

“Tough,” said Frost. “We have other plans. Call our secretary and make an appointment. Captain, get those elevator doors open. I’ll hold them off.”

She stepped forward, her sword held in both hands, and swung it around in a vicious sideways sweep with all her strength behind it. If it had connected, it would certainly have beheaded Pearce, but he raised his arms impossibly fast and blocked the blow. The blade sank deep into his arm and jarred on splintering bone. In the split second while Frost was still off balance, Pearce reached out with his other hand and snatched the sword out of her hand. Frost snarled and hit him in the throat with her armored glove. The hard suit’s servomechanisms amplified the strength of her blow, and she could feel the sickening crunch as her fist crushed Pearce’s throat and snapped his neck. His head hung at an angle, but the expression on his face didn’t change. He threw her sword aside and reached out with both hands to grab her shoulders. She kicked his legs out from under him, and he fell sprawling on the steel floor. The other Ghost Warriors moved forward in an unhurried, implacable advance, and Frost knew there were just too many of them to be stopped by anything she could do.

She checked the timer inside her helmet and opened up with her disrupters again. Energy blasts erupted from her gloves, slapping aside the advancing dead men like so many curling leaves caught in a fiery breeze. But then her guns fell silent, and the Ghost Warriors kept coming. Pearce was back on his feet again, reaching for her. Frost grabbed up her
sword again, determined she’d die before she let them drag her off to Shub’s bloody laboratories.

Silence and Cross got to the elevators and used their amplified strength to force the doors open. The two security men charged into the lift, pulled the control mechanism out of the wall, and began quickly preparing an override. Silence would have liked to turn and see how Frost was doing, but he needed all his strength to hold the elevator doors open. They strained against his hands with an almost malevolent urgency, and Silence could hear a faint straining sound from the servomechanisms in his suit’s arms. He was wearing an exploratory suit, designed for protection, not the stronger and better-equipped battle suit. It wouldn’t last much longer. One of the security men yelled out in satisfaction, and the pressure from the doors was suddenly gone. Silence and Cross let go of them and hurried into the elevator. They turned as one and opened up with their disrupters, the energy bolts blowing away Ghost Warriors to either side of Frost.

“Get your ass over here, Investigator!” yelled Silence. “We are leaving!”

Frost turned and ran for the elevator without hesitation. There was no dishonor in running from Ghost Warriors. They’d keep coming as long as their computer implants remained intact, no matter what state their bodies might be in. The only answer to this many Ghost Warriors was massed disrupter cannon. She threw herself into the elevator, and the security men let the elevator doors close behind her. Dead fists beat against the doors, denting the metal, but Silence had already hit the up button. He hit it a few more times, just in case, and took a deep breath as the elevator began to rise.

“
Dauntless
, this is Silence. Do you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Captain.”

“Check the sensors. Any life-form readings on the
Champion
’s bridge?”

“No, Captain.”

“Damn. All right; we are heading back to the pinnace in a hurry. This ship is crawling with Ghost Warriors. You are not to allow the pinnace or any other vessel from the
Champion
to dock with you until sensors have confirmed that only the living are aboard. Once we’ve docked, open up with everything you’ve got until there’s nothing left of the
Champion
but a few glowing atoms. If we can’t get to you and
you consider the
Dauntless
to be in danger, forget us and blow the
Champion
apart anyway. We are expendable. Is that clear,
Dauntless?
”

“Clear, Captain,” said the calm voice of his Second in Command. “We’ll give you every second we can, but you must be docked before we open fire. Otherwise, the energy will fry you.”

“I know. But the
Dauntless
’s safety comes first. Confirm.”

“Confirmed, Captain. Good luck.”

The elevator slowed suddenly, catching them all off balance. The security man at the controls swore dispassionately. “Something’s fighting my override. I don’t know how much longer I can maintain control, Captain.”

“Stop at the next floor,” said Silence. “We’re getting off. Can’t risk being taken back down again.”

The security man nodded, and the elevator lurched to a halt. The doors opened, and Silence and his people spilled out into an empty corridor, swords at the ready. Silence accessed his map of the
Champion
again, displaying it on the inside of his helmet. They were seven floors down and quite a distance away from the air lock that would give them access to their pinnace. They’d have to stick to the walkways and hope the Ghost Warriors didn’t have some way to block them. He dismissed the map and looked at the two security men. Their blank helmets stared impassively back at him, waiting for orders.

“There’s no point in going back to the bridge,” Silence said evenly. “Your comrades are dead. And I never even knew their names. Tell me yours.”

One of the men indicated himself, and then his friend. “Corporal Abrams and Corporal Fine, sir. Don’t mind Fine. He doesn’t say much.”

“Pleased to meet you, Corporals. If we get back to the
Dauntless
alive, you’re both Sergeants. Now let’s get moving. Frost, take the point. Cross, watch our rear. Move it, people!”

And so they ran, back through the deserted corridors of the death ship, the hammering of their armored boots on the steel floor a constant roll of thunder, prophesying a storm to come. Silence flashed the map up on his inner helmet again, counting off the floors and levels as they drew slowly closer to where they’d left the pinnace. His heart was pounding, and his breath tore at his lungs. Even with the servomecha
nisms to help, the hard suit was heavy and clumsy, not designed for running in. And deep down inside him, he knew he’d forgotten something. Something important. He snarled silently inside his helmet and tried vainly to increase his pace. It was taking too long. The Ghost Warriors could be right behind them. He checked his suit’s sensors again, but there was no trace of movement anywhere in their limited range. Which probably meant the dead men knew a short cut. He checked the map again, but he couldn’t see a quicker route than the one Frost had already chosen. They’d get to the pinnace first. They had to.

And finally there was only one corridor left between them and safety, and the whole group found a second wind that brought them pounding around the final corner, and there they came crashing to a halt. Silence just stood there, a dozen yards from the air lock, his head filled with his own harsh breathing, his heart filled with despair. Between his small force and the air lock stood a hundred Ghost Warriors, eerily unprotected against the airless cold, with the dead Captain Pearce at their head.
No
, thought Silence numbly.
That’s not possible, there’s no way they could have beaten us here!
But these are dead men, a small voice murmured in the back of his mind. Maybe they know ways that the living cannot walk. His thoughts whirled crazily as he tried desperately to think of something, anything he could do to steal a victory from the jaws of certain defeat. Pearce smiled at Silence and Frost, his head perched crookedly on his broken neck.

“It’s over. You must come with us now. The laboratories are waiting.”

“To hell with that,” said Frost calmly. She pulled a concussion grenade from her belt, primed it, and tossed it neatly into the middle of the massed Ghost Warriors. They barely had time to react before it blew, and the force of the blast threw dead men in all directions. Frost and the rest of her party hardly rocked on their heels, protected by their heavy hard suits. Silence laughed suddenly, back in the game again, and strode toward the air lock, kicking thrashing bodies out of his way. The others followed him, knocking the dead men down as fast as they got to their feet. The dead grabbed at their legs to try and hold them, but dead arms were no match for the hard suit’s servomechanisms.

Silence hit the controls, and the air-lock doors cycled
slowly open. The two security men were hacking at everything in sight with their swords, and dead flesh flew in the air though no blood flowed. The doors finally opened wide enough, and Silence yelled for his people to break free.

“Move it, people! We are leaving!”