Cath

The Cradle

Without hesitation, Osman authorised the Rothian integration request. Large red silhouettes appeared on the roads either side of their car, towards the convoy’s front and also behind them. Area markers above their heads painted three sections of the glassy tower blocks around them.

“Ambush! Weapons free!” The Major barked over comms, reaching for her combat rifle in the footwell. Energy weapons lit up along the full length of the convoy, sending great cascades of blue fire into the alleyways.

The bulbous visor crawled back over 595’s face and its red triangle blinked on. With gritted teeth, she forced a tethered iteration of the Scrivener-Fujikawa virus into one of the tower blocks off to their right.

All at once, anti-materiel rounds fizzed into the tanks from up high, leaving tracer vapor in their wake. Great curtains of sparks erupted into the air and the deafening screech of rending metal filled the air.

595 just had time to turn and shout “Get down!” To the two scientists in the back seats before a juggernaut exploded out of a side street towards them. The cloaking around it failed with a great *pop*, and a high explosive round from the rear tank filled the cabin with fire.

Freyr didn’t even have time to scream before the flaming truck slammed into the side of their car at top speed. The impact was devastating, with their car cartwheeling over and over. Debris flew around the interior, clattering against her helmet. Dr Girard’s nose smashed against the headrest in front of her, sending blood spraying everywhere. The car hit the ground upside down, then slid into the side of the building on the opposite side of the street. Freyr found her breath to scream, hanging upside down.

The Cradle

“GCHQ - say again regarding the Super. Urgently requesting a ping of our location, over!” Osman snapped.

“Get us the fuck out of here!” 595 urged, staring out a side window down one of the alleys. It looked empty, though the lighting wasn’t great.

The tank at the front of the column was half inside the Terra-glitch, and so needed to reverse a good thirty metres to turn onto the nearest side road. Their own car reversed slightly before crunching into the vehicle behind. Freyr watched out of the back window as the car and tank behind them started backing up properly. “Go go go!” She called.

“Ma’am, there’s something inside this glitch.” One of Major Osman’s subordinates reported from the front of the column. “Looks like a building.”

“What?” 595 scoffed.

“Acknowledged. Let's not stick around to find out who lives there.” Osman dismissed them. “One-Six, scan the area. I think Super is offline.”

“Copy.”

“I hear something. Listen!” 595 announced. “We weren’t humming that much before.”

The Cradle

“Don’t shoot them! They might be treatable.” Freyr pleaded, unsure if anyone could hear her over the guns. She looked out of the back window and saw some people following them round the corner. Some were trying to get into the underground garages beneath most of the buildings. Her team had seen afflictions like this before which faded after a time - but they had never been this endemic before.

“It’s good to hear someone is on course. We are off the approved route.” 595 snapped, checking the route she’d copied from the map table back at the checkpoint. “Terra-glitch on the main road ma’am. In a few turns we’ll be back on track.” The driver enlarged a copy of the HUD he was looking at and chucked it over his shoulder onto the Agent’s holo. “Hmmm.” She studied it closely. “Hey! Tuck your tail in!”

“Tangier One, this is GCHQ. Come in, over.” The car’s comm set squawked.

“GCHQ this is Tangier One, Go ahead!” Osman answered.

“Tangier One, we need you to...around and head back...Foundation Square, over.” Came the muffled response.

Osman responded immediately. “We can’t do that, HQ. We’re moving through a hot zone. Requesting immediate tactical oversight.”

“...Superintendent...down. KR-10 signal came from inside...Cradle. Lost in...your sector. Advise immediate...Over.”

“GCHQ, say again! GCHQ, come in.” Osman called through the static, glancing out of her window at the side roads branching off from their narrow channel.

“What is a KR-10?” Dr Girard asked, leaning forward.

“Skinners.” 595 answered gravely, unholstering her pistol.

Just then, a cacophony of curses and shouting blasted over comms, and the car in front braked suddenly.

Their driver slammed on the breaks, and managed to slow down enough that their car just lightly crunched into the vehicle ahead. The car behind did the same, then tried to reverse slowly. They were at a standstill. “Another Terra-glitch!” The column leader reported. “Get us out of here, now!” Osman commanded.

The Cradle

The convoy powered on without stopping, and the man running into the road bounced off the front of the armoured car behind them. Freyr wailed at the back window as she watched more people, civilian and military, spilling out of the building. The CraSec guards out front were shooting at...people. People with bloodshot eyes and black gums and gnashing teeth. They ran at the soldiers, jumping on them and trying to take their helmets off. Their armour sparked.

Energy bolts lanced into the crowd from guns along the convoy's length, including atop their own car. "There are people dying right there! We can stop quickly, we have room!" Freyr yelled over the noise. "Negative! It's not safe for you here!" 595 was already sideways in her seat, ready to address any threats at her door. She swivelled her head to glare at Freyr. "Stick to mission parameters!” She barked, for the benefit of everyone in the car. The Agent appeared to aggravated. Freyr gulped.

The car's comm network lit up with a constellation of comms. Not just the convoy, which had been heavily distorted, but from nearby buildings. Osman wrestled with the controls. "Tangier two, come in!" Their column veered into a narrower road. Freyr leapt back from the window when she saw a mass of people running towards the side of the car before they disappeared from view.

The Cradle

Dr Girard nodded in general agreement, leaning forward to poke her head through the gap in the seats. “We really are in uncharted territory now, so all possibilities must remain on the table. As for what they said, we all know the Cradle and the Rothian Object are prolific data managers. They could’ve ‘said’ everything that’s happened in all our lifetimes, including minute detail on the last six hours...Are you alright? You sound breathless.”

“Tangier Two, come in, over.” Osman said out loud from the front. No reply. “GCHQ, what’s your status, over?” A painful screech and warble blasted the inside of the car. “GCHQ, we’re getting a lot of interference this end, please repeat.” Osman said, before turning to face Vreta. “Try your friends.”

"We really need to figure out a better way to communicate. Both of these environments seem to block radio signals at will." Freyr mumbled to herself, nursing her head. Suddenly, the driver swore and swerved to avoid someone running out in front of them. Freyr and Dr Girard both shouted in fright. Gunfire erupted from the grand entranceway to one of the blocks on their left. “They’re here! Help us!” The runner screamed.

The Cradle

Since the Cradle had never permitted flight over a certain altitude, the area colonised by Humans had a road network more reminiscent of Earth than Outremer. The last six months had re-energised a military industrial complex previously engrossed by spaceships to deliver first-class land vehicles for CraSec. The convoys waiting to take the teams in different directions used state of the art hover-mobility. Instead of wheels, the vehicles had powerful magnetic emitters which kept them just a few feet off the road.

Freyr almost didn’t realise they were vehicles in her groggy state. Even the tanks at either end of the column were almost completely silent. She let Osman chuck her into the back of an armoured car, next to Dr Girard and behind Vreta and Agent 595. The Major then jogged around the back and got into the opposite passenger seat. “Ok, allons’y! Package secure. Callsign Tangier, you have a green light to proceed.” With just a gentle hum, the convoy began powering forwards out of the checkpoint.

Osman checked the clock on her HUD. They were running behind schedule already. She turned around in her seat to check out the passengers behind her. “Everybody alright? There is water in the door compartment.” 595 leaned forward and threw up again on her armoured feet. She followed up by spitting out a wad of phlegm, then wiping her mouth. “It’s kicking my butt, what was that?”

Dr Girard pulled the stopper out of one of the water bottles and placed it in Freyr’s shaking hands. “We talked about this as a possibility; that the Cradle and the Object could communicate through us in a more immediate way, like neurons moving through a synapse. You all went inside the Object on Rothia, correct?”

The convoy took a sharp right, heading off the square and onto one of New Antioch’s main artery roads. Freyr drank deeply from the bottle, then, feeling hot, she poured some on her upturned face. She wasn’t listening to anyone in the car; she was still trying to figure out the voice, or feeling, that’d washed over her in those few seconds back in the tent. Why did it feel so familiar?

The Cradle

Osman threw Freyr back into the checkpoint’s transit station and keyed in an emergency extraction from a nearby panel. Nothing happened. The rending squeal issuing from all around them ceased as quickly as it had begun. Activating comms out loud so everyone could hear, Osman called the Bridge District. “Theta Company, report!”. Heavily distorted shouts and warbles answered her. “Come in!”.

“These things love running interference, don’t they?” Dr Wetherall whined, massaging the back of his head while struggling to his feet. Osman ignored him. “The transit network is down, and comms are funny…” She looked at the map again, refreshing the energy chart. Massive ripples ringed the Bridge, with other smaller hotspots all over the city. “Thrace, get down there right away. They need help. Take them with you. We stick to the mission!” Osman ordered.

The gruff, grey-haired soldier saluted, before grabbing Dr Wetherall and his understudy. He motioned for Void Company to follow him out of the tent. Osman marched back to the transit station, where Freyr had stood up and was staggering weakly towards her. Osman grabbed the Doctor and held her up. “Vreta’Sori, Dr Girard, take the Agent out to the convoy. Move!” The Agent in question was on all fours by the map table, just finished with throwing up a small puddle of viscous liquid.

The Cradle

Osman nodded, grabbing a repeater from a nearby rack. “Parfait. You can ride on the tanks. Let's go then, there is no time to waste. Thrace will-...” Suddenly, lights blinked all over the map and Freyr’s pad pinged rapidly. The flood lamps bathing the square flickered, and a tremendous grinding sound boomed from all around. The floor shook violently, throwing people off balance.

A sharp stabbing pain pricked the back of Freyr’s head; she cried out, clasped the back of her skull with one hand and slid down the table onto the floor. 595 grabbed Freyr under one arm and started pulling her up, until a blinding light behind her eyes hit like a hammer. The Agent arched her back and screamed at the ceiling of the checkpoint, her eye augments turning on and making everyone in the space appear blue for a moment. Then she collapsed, smacking her cheek on the side of the table.

After a couple of agonising moments, the pain disappeared as quickly as it had come. Freyr opened her eyes to find Osman dragging her up to her feet. “Stand up! We are LEAVING!” She saw the Major's mouth moving, almost completely drowned out by the deafening noise around them. Freyr shook her head weakly in protest as Osman pulled her towards the transit station. “Can’t...leave…”

The Cradle

Freyr pouted, unsure how to respond to a question like that. She’d never expected to be giving directives to a very imposing group of alien soldiers. “Erm, they’re both quite important…” She pulled a pad from the small rucksack she’d logged in with and laid it on the map table. Purple energy spikes overlaid the map like mountain ranges.

“The Bridge District is a hotspot for Cradle activity, which makes it more dangerous.” Freyr patted Dr Wetherall’s arm. “The boys are going to help the crew there keep our connection between the Vault and the Cradle intact. That’s absolutely crucial.”

Major Osman leaned over and zoomed the map in to look at just the Bridge District in particular. “Theta Company has secured the inner compound, protecting a staff of one hundred technicians, here.” A glowing red set of buildings stood out from the power base’s large square maze.

“Right. And the alternative is to come with us to the government communications HQ.” Freyr jabbed a finger at the large circular complex on the opposite side of the city. “We’re going to try and talk to the entity, and or the Cradle itself. “There’s no telling how either will react, but GCHQ has the advantage of being a fortress. There are also likely to be more terraformers and builders on station there than at the power plant.” Freyr looked at Osman, who nodded in confirmation.

She then stared up at Eti. “So which is it?”

The Cradle

They were in one corner of Foundation Square; a large paved area surrounding an urban park. The statue of Outremer’s first colonists raising a flag together emerged from the tree line.

New Antioch was still brightly lit from above by large floodlights. The golden domes and spires still stood. But Freyr couldn’t make out any of the city’s usual hustle and bustle. The purposeful movement of staff between the ancient buildings had been replaced by a febrile mass of soldiers out on the street.

Freyr checked that her team had logged in and were feeling alright. She’d brought in Dr Wetherall and his understudy as Systems experts, and the promising young researcher Dr Girard. She was confident they could all be trusted to follow instructions. If the worst came, they’d have the best chance of holding the creature flat while she struck the killer blow. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that, but it was best to be prepared for anything.

“Okay, attention please.” Osman strode over to a map table and projected a hologram of the city in 3D. “We’ve secured the places each team needs to go. There are two convoys waiting outside to get you in position.” The map showed two arrows, one red and one blue, winding through the streets before arriving at two separate buildings. “Dr Lang, I will ride with you. Sergeant Thrace will ride with Dr Wetherall. Once your work is complete, we will exfil via this same checkpoint, or secure secondary locations." Osman put a hand on her chestplate. "Our role is to keep you alive, so please follow all our instructions.”

Major Osman turned to the squad of Rothians. “We weren’t told about Rothian support. What do you want to do?”