Reactivated (Bolt Eaters Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  It halted again, and then a panel seemed to slide open—his thermal vision showed it as a blue rectangle receding, leaving in place a brighter red one.

  From that bright red opening, small, dark blue shapes began to emerge. Hundreds of them. Thousands.

  They curved down toward the Bolt Eater’s positions.

  Micro machines.

  An entire swarm of them.

  17

  Eric wondered if he should play dead. In theory, the EM countermeasures developed by the army should repel all of those termites, keeping the micro machines from touching any part of his hull, or his shield. But if the tech failed...

  He decided to take the risk. He rotated his head slightly, until Slate’s form was visible ahead of him, still lying on his back underneath his shield, and confirmed that his fellow Bolt Eater also remained motionless.

  Still, all it would take was one of them to panic...

  He hoped they’d all keep their wits.

  He waited for those micro machines to approach. They reached Slate, and then Eric. His vision became completely black. Or rather, the dark blue of the termites. The micro machines swept right over him without touching.

  In moments he could see again. Slate remained intact ahead of him. Eric craned his neck further, until the two Ravagers were in sight: they, too, proved untouched.

  He heard a loud thud, and the ground shook beneath his mech. Another thunk, another earth-shaking reverberation. He glanced upward, toward the transport, and watched as a hulking shape leaped from the opening. He observed its descent, and saw it land between two similar forms. A third thud issued from the impact site, along with that now familiar rumbling. The newcomers were about the same size as the Devastator mechs.

  Eric considered this an attack, so he reenabled comms and set the range to the lowest possible, given the distance to his closest teammates. Sure enough, he wasn’t the only one who had done so.

  “Three-Legged Sloths!” Slate exclaimed.

  “That’s three-toed,” Brontosaurus corrected.

  Slate’s name for them, if not technically precise, was somewhat apt: the hulking masses possessed three equally-spaced legs that formed a tripod of sorts underneath. From the torsos emerged three more arms, distributed at equal points around the torso. He couldn’t tell if they were organic or machine in the moonlight, though the exterior did glisten. The blocky edges he had come to associate with machines weren’t present—the joints were smooth, the limbs seamless.

  Light glistened off the heads, which seemed to be turning toward Eric.

  “I’m detecting an intense gamma ray burst,” Dee announced. “I suggest placing your ballistic shield between the tangos and your body.”

  Staying down, Eric slid his shield across the ground, toward his upper body. He set it firmly between himself and the newcomers.

  “Gamma rays are impacting the shield,” Dee said. “It’s holding.”

  “Good, damage report?” Eric asked.

  “All systems remain operational,” Dee replied. “Though we nearly lost one of the internal power couplers. That would be bad: you would have shut down.”

  “Good news.” Eric switched on his comm node.

  “Open fire, Bolt Eaters!” Marlborough was just saying.

  “The gamma ray burst has ceased,” Dee said.

  Still lying down, Eric peered past the edge of his protection, and saw that Slate had also slid his shield toward the enemies, as had the Ravagers.

  Plasma bolts, sourced from the Bolt Eaters behind Eric, ripped through the air toward the three-legged hulks. Explosive shells from the tanks impacted. Invisible lasers from the Savages struck.

  But for all of that, none of the weapons actually reached their targets. Under the moonlight, Eric watched as half-spheres of energy flashed into existence, absorbing the blows.

  “Damn it, they’re shielded!” Eric said.

  “Keep firing,” Marlborough said. “Wear those shields down.”

  “Black hole weapon?” Tread suggested.

  “Negative,” Marlborough said. “They’re too close. You’ll lose Slate and Scorpion.”

  “Assuming it even affects the enemy units,” Bambi said.

  “What about if we target the transports?” Tread said.

  “Still a bit close for comfort!” Marlborough said. “Wait!”

  Slate retracted his laser turret, and replaced it with the alien blades. Then he aimed over his shield and jettisoned one of them toward the alien targets. The spear penetrated the shield, which was presumably weakened from the previous attacks, and passed into the torso of the target. The hulk shook violently upon impact as bolts of electricity passed up and down its body, and then it froze.

  “Bye-bye, Slothy Bitch!” Slate said.

  “These have to be machines,” Eric said. “An organic would have dropped to the ground after an impact like that. This one just froze.”

  Eric had the Ravagers launch their own spears from their forearms, and penetrated the weakened shields of the remaining two Sloths, and similarly took them down.

  Through it all the snow had continued to fall, perhaps a little more intensely now.

  “Cover me, I’m retrieving the spears.” Slate ejected in his Cicada and grabbed onto one of the rungs of his mech at the same time; he swung down, retrieved the collection gloves from his storage compartment, and then raced out onto the snow.

  “Wait!” Eric said. “Damn it.”

  Eric sent the Ravagers forward to cover him with their ballistic shields; he and the other Bolt Eaters of T1 also fired at the transport immediately overhead, attempting to offer some sort of covering fire. But the transport didn’t return fire—apparently it wasn’t armed. T2 and T3 split their fire between the overhead transport and the farther one that yet hovered above the crash site. Energy fields flashed into existence around both of the craft.

  “Makes you wonder how one of their ships could crash if they have shields like that!” Hicks commented.

  “Obviously even alien technology isn’t foolproof,” Frogger said.

  “Tell me why the Brass refused to grant us air support again?” Eagleeye complained.

  Slate collected the jettisoned spears with the gloves and slammed them in turn into the forearm slots of the Ravagers; then he grabbed his own spear, raced to his mech and slotted it back into the arm. He returned the collection gloves to the storage compartment and scrambled back into his cockpit; his body folded up into a tight sphere before the hatch closed.

  “See, told you it would be no problem,” Slate said, swiveling the shield of his mech toward the transport and firing away.

  Eric recalled the Ravagers and had them assume a defensive position next to Slate. Eric moved forward himself, and placed his ballistic shield next to theirs so that the four of them were sheltered by a long bulwark made of their own shields. They had them positioned upward, toward the transport.

  And then three more Sloths dropped from the transport overhead.

  “Kind of them to wait for me to return to my mech,” Slate said.

  These Sloths carried big cannons on their shoulders. They pointed them at the units.

  “Uh, this can’t be good,” Slate said.

  “Shields in place!” Eric said. He slammed his shield downward, as did the Ravagers, and Slate, protecting their bodies with the bulwark it formed.

  The cannons opened fire.

  Holes ripped through all of their shields. Eric was forced to duck as an energy beam nearly hit his head.

  “Crap!” Slate said. “Almost got me!”

  “Me, too,” Eric said.

  The three teams opened fire. Eric slid his cannon into the gap that had just been shot in his shield, and joined in.

  As usual, a protective force field kicked in, protecting the tangos from the offensive.

  “Why aren’t they firing at us again?” Slate asked.

  “Recharge interval,” Eric guessed.

  The transport overhead moved forward sligh
tly.

  “Uh,” Slate said, looking up.

  The opening moved directly above, and then behind Eric, Slate, and the two Ravagers.

  Eric steered his energy cannon upward, and attempted to fire into that opening, but once again the transport’s energy shield flickered into place, and blocked his shot.

  Three Sloths landed behind him. They all had energy cannons as well.

  Eric leaped toward them in Bullet Time, swapping out the laser turret so that he could deploy the pair of alien blades from his forearm. He swung them in midair, aiming for the energy field of the closest Sloth. When he hit, the twin spears penetrated, deactivating the shielding. But the Wolverinish blades weren’t long enough to inflict more than a glancing blow against the Sloth underneath.

  “When you strike with both blades at once, you don’t have to weaken the shield first!” Eric said. “Dee, have one of the Ravagers join me!”

  The Sloth’s energy cannon turned toward him…

  Still in Bullet Time, Eric ducked. The bolt tore past his shoulder, nearly hitting his own energy weapon.

  He stepped forward, and slammed his blades upward, stabbing it into the robot’s torso, and lifting the machine off the ground slightly. Bolts of electricity sparked across its hull.

  One of the Ravagers took a running leap at the next Sloth; the Ravager held its alien blades out front, penetrating the shield, and then stabbing the Sloth beyond.

  Bambi dashed forward from where she was lying on the ground and slammed her three-pronged tail into the third Sloth from behind, easily disabling the shield and striking the robot within at the same time. The Sloth shook as bolts of electricity traveled up and down its exterior. When she released it, the Sloth no longer moved.

  Energy bolts came in from behind. Eric was hit: his damage report screen showed that his left arm was no longer active—his shield arm.

  He dropped, and ordered the Ravager to do the same: apparently the other Sloths had recharged.

  Another bolt ripped toward Bambi, but she had already swiveled the body of the robot Sloth between herself and the source. The energy slammed into the Sloth, creating a blast crater. She tossed the body aside and flattened herself to the ground, deploying a ballistic shield in her right claw.

  “Not sure how comfortable I am having Bambi fight so near!” Slate said as he dodged toward the three Sloths still in front of the group. “What with that nuke she’s carrying!”

  “It can’t be detonated prematurely, jackass,” Bambi said.

  Slate reached the Sloths and leaped at the rightmost, stabbing with his spears. The alien blades penetrated the shielding, and struck the robot inside.

  Eric sent the remaining Ravager forward to join Slate. That one had taken another impact in its shield, which had taken out a big chunk on the right-hand side.

  Slate and the Ravager finished off the last two Sloths with their spear weapons.

  A moment later seven more Sloths dropped down ahead, these ones located well away.

  “Duck!” Eric said.

  18

  Eric and the other members of T1 dropped as those energy cannons unleashed. Eric took a hit in his shield, losing another portion of it.

  “I thought these ballistic shields were supposed to be made of alien metal!” Slate said. “So far, they seem useless!”

  “Just as useless as human materials would be, I’m sure!” Eric commented. “Sarge, we could use some help here!”

  “T1, retreat to T2!” Marlborough said.

  Plasma and energy bolts unleashed from T2 and T3 as the remaining Bolt Eaters, tanks and combat robots laid down suppressive fire. Though all of the shots were absorbed by the energy fields of the enemy, Eric still hoped the multiple flashes that resulted would blind the Sloths.

  Eric retreated, holding his shield behind him. He commanded the Ravagers to join him. Slate was also at his side, his shield similarly positioned at his back.

  Eric reached the lines of T2, and dove to the ground, taking a spot near Crusher. Bambi joined him.

  He glanced toward the enemy lines, and saw that several more Sloths had dropped from the transport.

  “They’re far enough away for a black hole!” Tread said.

  “Go for it!” Marlborough said.

  Tread fired his black hole weapon, and a rip in reality opened between the Sloths, and the transport above them.

  The wind picked up, and the surrounding snowfall was sucked swirling into the spacetime tear Tread had created.

  The pull felt immense, even at this range, so that Eric knew Tread had chosen to create a black hole this time, rather than a wormhole. Eric punched his fists into the ground and grabbed on to resist the pull.

  The enemy robots similarly dug in with their three feet so that they too weren’t drawn into the spacetime pinch.

  “The transport isn’t moving toward the black hole at all,” Hick said.

  “Yeah, I noticed,” Frogger said. “Has to operate on some inertialess frame. That’s too bad.”

  “Even an inertialess frame won’t help if the black hole strikes the hull itself!” Tread said. He fired another bright bolt from his cannon, and it rose toward the transport. The energy shield engaged, and the bolt remained motionless, unable to advance further.

  After a few seconds, the rip in spacetime simply formed where it was, and Eric felt the pull on his armor increase. The raging gale around him picked up as both black holes competed against one another, vying for how much swirling snow they could swallow.

  “It was a nice dream,” Frogger commented.

  Ignoring the pull from either gravity well, the transport moved forward. Eric and the others aimed their shoulder cannons at it, and continued firing, but the shield absorbed everything. None of the team members could really fire with anything else, because they had to keep their hands firmly secured to the ground, or else risk being sucked into the dual black holes.

  Beneath the two holes in spacetime, the ground began to break away in clumps as it was drawn inside. A Sloth had the misfortune to be standing on one such clump, and was drawn into the black hole.

  The transport was directly overhead, and continued on toward the tanks and robots in T3.

  “The hell is it doing?” Dunnigan asked.

  “It’s going to try to outflank us, I think!” Frogger said. “By dropping those Sloths between our teams…”

  “Shut down those black holes!” Marlborough ordered. “We can’t maneuver with them in place!”

  Tread fired two quick dispersion bolts, and dispelled the two black holes. The wind dropped, but it was still surprisingly forceful—the snowstorm was picking up steam. Around Eric the snow swirled wildly.

  “Concentrate spear attacks on that transport!” Marlborough said. “Target the craft, and prepare to fire! T3, continue to target the Sloths on the ground, cover us!”

  Eric raised his hand, pointing his twin blades at the floating vessel.

  “Bolt Eaters, fire one spear each!” Marlborough ordered.

  Eric jettisoned the alien spear, and it traveled upward, toward the transport, along with several other spears released by the remainder of the team. The weapons struck at almost the same time; most of them bounced away, but one got through, and stabbed into the hull. Bolts of electricity traveled outward from the impact site, but otherwise seemed to have no effect.

  Sloths began to leap down from the opening, landing in the terrain that separated the Bolt Eaters from the support units of T3. The tanks and combat robots diverted some of their covering fire to concentrate on these units instead.

  “Second spears, fire!” Marlborough said.

  Eric released his final spear, as did the other Bolt Eaters. This time there was no shield to interfere with their flight, so all the spears struck home and embedded in the vessel. Electricity sparked all along the fuselage and wing segments, and the craft careened hard to the right, before slamming into the ground upside down. Unlike the wreckage of the previous craft they’d encountered, thi
s one remained relatively intact after the impact.

  “Scorpion, Slate, Hicks, Brontosaurus, collect the spears!” Marlborough ordered. “The rest of you, covering fire!”

  Eric and Slate raced toward the upside down transport, where the second volley of spears porcupined the underside of the fuselage; they kept their shields angled toward the closest group of Sloths. Brontosaurus and Hicks meanwhile steered toward where the first volley of spears had bounced away from the transport’s force field.

  When Eric reached the edge of the downed transport, he switched control of his mech to Dee, and ejected. In Bullet Time, he unfolded his Cicada from its sphere form as he emerged and grabbed onto the rung next to the cockpit; he used his momentum to swing himself down to the Devastator’s storage bay, and retrieved the collection gloves. Then he leaped off the leg, and onto the alien craft.

  He dashed forward, zig-zagging to mess up the aim of any Sloths that might be targeting him. Dee would also be covering him. As would Slate’s Devastator.

  As he passed by the different spears, he scooped them up with his good arm. His hand was only so big, however, and he could only hold five at a time, so he returned to the edge of the transport where Dee stood guard next to Slate’s mech, and dropped the spears into the ground point first. Slate did the same with those spears he collected.

  Sometimes, as Eric raced across the hull, the alien spears were so firmly lodged that he couldn’t pull them free with one hand. He marked off three of those, so that when he was done collecting the others, he returned to wrench them free with both hands one at a time. Slate helped him.

  Finally, the two of them had all the spears lodged in the ground next to their mechs. He grabbed two of them, and loaded them in turn into the slots in his Devastator, as did Slate.

  “Got eleven spears here, for those who need them,” Eric said.