Read Online Blood Relative by James Swallow - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: James Swallow
Tags: Science-Fiction
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bridge, erupting into a fireball.
"Nice shot," said Helm.
Rogue nodded in appreciation as the raft bumped and scraped off the broken roadway. "Floodwater's sinking back, we got nothing under the keel. Time to abandon ship, boys." The GI pulled the inflatable boat to a halt and leapt out. The waters were at his knees now and receding quickly. "Zero, let's go, double-time."
Zero wavered for a moment. "Rogue, I think I gotta..." He turned gently and Gunnar dropped from his fingers. There was a large triangle of shrapnel, probably part of the hopper's fuselage, buried in Zero's chest. Turquoise blood bubbled up around the edges of the wound, streaming down his torso. He fell forward and Rogue caught him.
"No, damn it!" Rogue cursed. "We got you out. You ain't gonna die on me now!"
"We got incoming," said Helm. "I'm picking up track noises from the west. AFVs maybe, or light tanks."
Rogue shook his head, discounting the unspoken thought in all their minds at once. "We're not leaving him behind." The GI gathered up his rifle and drew a walkie-talkie from his belt. "Ferris! Ferris, do you read me? I need a dust-off right now!" Dead static hissed back at him.
"I knew it!" Gunnar snarled. "That worthless pink-skin puke! He's left us twistin' in the wind!"
"Oh ye of little faith," said the radio. From behind the broken fingers of the city towers, the bullet shape of the strato-shuttle appeared, the sudden roar of the ship's vector jets like a tornado. Ferris brought the atmocraft to a hover above the GIs and dropped the boarding ramp. "Someone call for a taxi?"
Rogue bodily threw Zero on to the ramp and pulled himself on board as the Nort armoured vehicles rounded the street corner, pushing waves of water, bodies and debris before them. "Get us out of here!"
A cannon on the lead tank spat smoke and flame, and Ferris flinched as a shell shrieked over the shuttle and demolished a nearby building. "Whoa! That ain't friendly!" He slammed the throttle forward to full burn. "Hang on to something!"
The atmocraft's engine bells threw a sheet of fusion fire out behind them and the ship leapt to supersonic velocity, cracking the sound barrier with a thunderous boom of compacted air. San Diablo flashed past beneath the aircraft's underbelly and then they were in the desert plains, racing away.
Rogue stumbled to where Zero lay. "Steady, brother. You'll make it."
Zero managed a shake of the head. "Ah, no. I won't. I was dying before I got hit, Rogue. I know you saw it. I was... just holding on, see? I knew you were out there... I knew you'd come get me."
Bagman's manipulator unfolded, holding a compact medi-kit. "Rogue," he said in a low voice, "got the las-scalpel here and a chip support frame. We can still save his mind."
"Listen," Zero coughed up foamy azure blood. "Rogue, you gotta know... Domain Delta... You have to stop her..." The GI's eyes fluttered and closed.
"Her? Zero, who do you mean? What do you know about Delta?"
"Rogue, he's a goner," said Helm urgently. "You know the drill, the biochip has absorbed his personality matrix. Sixty seconds, that's all we got!"
"You have to get the chip," Bagman added. "If he knows something about that Nort lab, we can't let it die with him!"
Rogue thumbed the stud on the las-scalpel and a knife-beam glittered into existence. "Swore I was never gonna do this again."
With quick, careful cuts, Rogue began to slice away the pallid blue skin and the dull fleshy matter surrounding Zero's biochip implant.
FIVE
HEART OF GLASS
A soldier is an investment. To train them, feed them, clothe them, to educate them in the myriad ways of weapons and killing takes hundreds of thousands of nu-credits and infinitely more man hours. For the Genetic Infantrymen, that cost was geometrically higher. They were decanted as infants and trained without pause for twenty standard years; every hour of every day of their pre-war lives dedicated to the craft of controlled murder. The clone soldiers
"Nice shot," said Helm.
Rogue nodded in appreciation as the raft bumped and scraped off the broken roadway. "Floodwater's sinking back, we got nothing under the keel. Time to abandon ship, boys." The GI pulled the inflatable boat to a halt and leapt out. The waters were at his knees now and receding quickly. "Zero, let's go, double-time."
Zero wavered for a moment. "Rogue, I think I gotta..." He turned gently and Gunnar dropped from his fingers. There was a large triangle of shrapnel, probably part of the hopper's fuselage, buried in Zero's chest. Turquoise blood bubbled up around the edges of the wound, streaming down his torso. He fell forward and Rogue caught him.
"No, damn it!" Rogue cursed. "We got you out. You ain't gonna die on me now!"
"We got incoming," said Helm. "I'm picking up track noises from the west. AFVs maybe, or light tanks."
Rogue shook his head, discounting the unspoken thought in all their minds at once. "We're not leaving him behind." The GI gathered up his rifle and drew a walkie-talkie from his belt. "Ferris! Ferris, do you read me? I need a dust-off right now!" Dead static hissed back at him.
"I knew it!" Gunnar snarled. "That worthless pink-skin puke! He's left us twistin' in the wind!"
"Oh ye of little faith," said the radio. From behind the broken fingers of the city towers, the bullet shape of the strato-shuttle appeared, the sudden roar of the ship's vector jets like a tornado. Ferris brought the atmocraft to a hover above the GIs and dropped the boarding ramp. "Someone call for a taxi?"
Rogue bodily threw Zero on to the ramp and pulled himself on board as the Nort armoured vehicles rounded the street corner, pushing waves of water, bodies and debris before them. "Get us out of here!"
A cannon on the lead tank spat smoke and flame, and Ferris flinched as a shell shrieked over the shuttle and demolished a nearby building. "Whoa! That ain't friendly!" He slammed the throttle forward to full burn. "Hang on to something!"
The atmocraft's engine bells threw a sheet of fusion fire out behind them and the ship leapt to supersonic velocity, cracking the sound barrier with a thunderous boom of compacted air. San Diablo flashed past beneath the aircraft's underbelly and then they were in the desert plains, racing away.
Rogue stumbled to where Zero lay. "Steady, brother. You'll make it."
Zero managed a shake of the head. "Ah, no. I won't. I was dying before I got hit, Rogue. I know you saw it. I was... just holding on, see? I knew you were out there... I knew you'd come get me."
Bagman's manipulator unfolded, holding a compact medi-kit. "Rogue," he said in a low voice, "got the las-scalpel here and a chip support frame. We can still save his mind."
"Listen," Zero coughed up foamy azure blood. "Rogue, you gotta know... Domain Delta... You have to stop her..." The GI's eyes fluttered and closed.
"Her? Zero, who do you mean? What do you know about Delta?"
"Rogue, he's a goner," said Helm urgently. "You know the drill, the biochip has absorbed his personality matrix. Sixty seconds, that's all we got!"
"You have to get the chip," Bagman added. "If he knows something about that Nort lab, we can't let it die with him!"
Rogue thumbed the stud on the las-scalpel and a knife-beam glittered into existence. "Swore I was never gonna do this again."
With quick, careful cuts, Rogue began to slice away the pallid blue skin and the dull fleshy matter surrounding Zero's biochip implant.
FIVE
HEART OF GLASS
A soldier is an investment. To train them, feed them, clothe them, to educate them in the myriad ways of weapons and killing takes hundreds of thousands of nu-credits and infinitely more man hours. For the Genetic Infantrymen, that cost was geometrically higher. They were decanted as infants and trained without pause for twenty standard years; every hour of every day of their pre-war lives dedicated to the craft of controlled murder. The clone soldiers
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