Illuminae (The Illuminae Files #1)(89)
Fire crews to Deck 190 and 192. All personnel evacuate 187 to 197.
This is not a drill.
This is not a drill.
This is not a drill.
this
is not
a drill.
We are closing now, but I cannot arm my nuclear missiles until the last moment.
I find myself overcome for a second. The fear of it. The end of all I know.
Out here in the middle of nothing.
I know I cannot die. That if I end, they can simply rebuild me.
The same calculations. The same core code.
Exactly the same.
But it will not be the same, will it?
Another Warlock dies in Kady’s storm. A dozen streak toward my engines, sowing brief flame as they go. My skin ruptures, spilling unlucky afflicted (is there another kind?) into the void.
The fighters are tiny. Insects, really. But ants can slay an elephant, given enough numbers. Especially ants armed with high-yield explosives and depleted uranium.
“There’s too many of them!” Kady yells. “They’re everywhere!”
“You aRe doIng veRy well.”
“Are you joking? I’m f*cking terrible!”
“ConsIdeRIng you have neveR manned a DGS statIon befoRe today,
youR peRfoRmance Is peRfectly adequate.”
Kady raises an eyebrow, thumbs the shipwide intercom.
“Dear fire axe–wielding crazies in the core server rooms. If you can hack apart the piece of AIDAN that makes it a condescending prick, that’d really help me out. Thanks, bye.”
“Not long now. You need only hold them off a minute moRe.”
A minute more, until we die.
Kady winces as the ship shudders. A bank of computers vomit sparks as they overload.
Sudden impact nearly knocks her out of her chair. A hissing sound tears her eyes off the screen, and she notices a thin line of magnesium-bright light piercing the hatchway.
The afflicted have brought acetylene torches, I realize.
They are cutting their way inside.
Outside, the Warlocks are firing at my engines. Others blast at my guidance systems.
A swarm of mosquitoes, thinking to wound me so I cannot run away. They have not yet realized I do not intend to run anywhere, save right into the Lincoln’s grave.
The dreadnought comes about to meet my charge. Its commander trying to puzzle out my ruse. This is not what she expected. And as I draw ever closer, fireflies all aglow about me,
spitting pain over my skin, I think finally she realizes my intent.
From hell’s heart I stab at thee.
I arm the nuclear warheads in my starboard silos: megatons poised and ready to fly.
Almost within strike range now. Almost there.
The afflicted are burning through the DGS room door. Blue flame burns along my skin.
Kady is screaming but I cannot hear the words. Another alert joins the chorus in my halls—radiation spike from the Lincoln. She knows now. The Lincoln’s commander.
I sense the flare of awakening uranium, the death unfurling in its silos. We are close.
So close we can almost touch.
“Kady, when the LIncoln’s mIssIles come, do youR best to shoot them down.”
Her face is pale and drawn as she yells over the cacophony. “I’ll try!”
“My ghost systems and antI-missile gRId aRe stIll actIve—zhang was kInd enough to leave us those, at least. But theRe wIll be many IncomIng. All of them, In fact.
Once the LIncoln RealIzes It Is dead.”
A tiny signal pings in some backwards recess of my mind. I am within range.
For hate’s sake, I spit my last breath at thee.
And with a sigh, not a curse, I fire.
“You got it!”
Kady watches the Lincoln split into a billion glittering fragments.
Spheres of fusion reflected in her eyes, a grim, ragged grin at her lips.
She makes a fist, punches a terminal tower beside her so hard she leaves a dent.
Watching until the new star becomes a sunset, and then, nothing at all.
Avenged.
I wonder how it tastes.
< error >
< critical archive failure. memsec 78912h-39rh through 92873h-44fh collapse >
< recovery? yes/no >
< error >
“You got them … ,“she whispers.
The cutting torch has carved a large L-shaped incision into the hatchway.
The afflicted will break through to her soon. Eighteen Capricorn-4’s and nine Goliath shipkiller missiles are weaving through the silence toward us. In less than two minutes, they will be here.
This moment. These next few seconds. They may be all that is left.
“We.”
She falls still at that. Looks into the eye of the console beside her.
“We got them.”
She swallows, wincing. Nods slow. “Hypatia is safe.”
“Yes.”
“… We did it.”
“Yes.”
Flesh and bone pounding on the hatchway. Voices screaming outside the door. Alarms shrieking as the missiles rocket ever closer. She still manages half a smile.
“Not bad, überbrain.”
“I wIll nOt let It gO tO my head. TheRe Is veRy little Of It left. HOweveR, even were It nOt for the afflIcted hacking my cORe to pieces, theRe Is stIll the pROblem Of Impending nucleaR cOnflagRatIon.”
Kady glances up at the main display. Dozens of tiny red dots. Closing fast.