Under A Winter Sun by Johan Dahlgren (ink ebook reader txt) 📕

go,” Soledad says. She gets up and moves over to Jagr.

“Besides.” She turns to me. “You need someone who can set the core to self-destruct.”

Can't argue with her there. “Thanks, Soledad.”

The intercom crackles. It's Braden. “If you're all going, I'm going too.”

Good old Braden.

“Sorry, B,” Jagr replies. “We need you here. Someone has to fly us to safety on the off chance we make it out.”

“Aw, shucks.” There's genuine disappointment in Braden's voice. The PA clicks off.

I look at Hildr in her seat. “Coming?”

“No.” Five pairs of eyes turn to her in disbelief. She stares defiantly at us. “I got out alive. I'm not going back in.”

“But …” I begin. “What happened to avenging Ragnwald?”

“That's Finn's problem.”

I close my mouth.

Jagr snorts. “Perez, you idiot. She just used you to get off-world, and you fell for it.”

Is it my imagination, or does she look pleased with herself?

“Fine.” I have to admit I'm disappointed. I had hoped Hildr would come. If I could, I would kick myself for being so easy to fool. If I hadn't been such a bastard, I might even have felt a little hurt to be used like that.

“I'll come.” The priest stands up.

“You?” Tyrus frowns at the little man with something bordering on respect. If Respect had a baby with Total Disbelief.

“Yes. Um. You could use some divine intervention on that ship, I believe.”

“Yes, we could.” I smile at the priest.

“So, what now?” Soledad looks at me. “How do you intend to find that drive core?”

The PA crackles again. “Maybe I can help with that. I ran a few scans, and there's a fuckload of exotic particles coming out of an area about midships. I'd bet my tiny knickers that's where the core is. Never encountered an engine signature like this before. I'd love to see that thing.”

“Thanks, Braden. Excellent work. So, we have a target.”

Soledad runs a hand down her face. “I can rig a detector that should point us to the core once we're aboard.”

“Good. Anything else?”

We all look at each other. No one says anything, so I voice what we're all thinking. “So, how do we deal with those zombie Goliaths? You saw the number of bullets it takes to kill even one of those things back on the Galahad. We don't have enough ammunition on this ship to kill them. And even if we did, we could never carry that much ammo.”

Jagr smiles. “We don't have to kill them.” It's not a pretty smile.

“What do you mean?” Soledad asks.

“That centipede thing attaches to their spine, right?”

“I guess,” Soledad acknowledges.

Tyrus sucks his teeth. The others stare blankly at Jagr. I see where she's going. “So, if we cut the head off …”

“… the thing can't move,” Tyrus finishes for me. “It could work. So, how do we cut them off?”

Jagr and Soledad exchange glances.

“Bring the black crate, Pip.”

“But …”

“Bring it. This is not the time nor the place to debate human rights. You could always argue they are not human, anyway.”

“OK, boss.”

Soledad leaves the room and comes back moments later, pushing a heavy-looking black crate before her. Tucked under a rubber cord on top are three matte black machetes. She pushes the crate to the table in the kitchen area and kicks it to engage the magnetic clamps. “Here it is. And I thought these might come in handy.” She picks up a machete and tests the edge with her thumb.

“Excellent.”

Tyrus grabs a machete and gives it a few violent practice swings. Not the brightest idea in the cramped confines of the dropship. Luckily, no one is killed or incapacitated.

“What's in the box?”

Jagr opens the crate. Inside are half a dozen giant assault rifles. She picks one up and plants the stock on one hip. It's huge.

“This is the Gray Heavy Industries Paladin assault rifle. Commonly known as 'the David'.”

The priest looks up with piqued interest. “David?”

Jagr smirks. “It was designed to bring down Goliaths.”

She sets the rifle on the table where magnetic clips engage to hold it in place.

“Oh.”

Soledad hauls the other weapons out and lines them up next to Jagr's rifle. I pick one up. It's the Mark III version with the extended magazine capacity. Wise choice. The Paladin large-bore assault rifle is a formidable weapon with the stopping power of light artillery. I should know. I helped design it many years ago for the Corp War circuit.

“Nice hardware, Jagr, but even these won't be enough to bring down those zombies.” The rough surface of the rifle's grip brings back memories of another time. A simpler time, where all you had to worry about was surviving the day and scoring points.

“Not on their own.” Jagr hauls a heavy ammo box from the bottom of the crate and sets it on the table with a thump. She opens the lid. Inside is a pile of black but otherwise ordinary-looking large calibre ordnance.

I sneer. “More ammo won't do the trick.”

“This kind might,” Soledad muses as she sets a bunch of empty, oversized magazines on the table.

Tyrus picks up a cartridge and examines it. The casing is shiny black, the bullet dull grey. “What's so special about them?” The interest in his voice is not exactly subtle. The guy has a hard-on for hardware.

Jagr takes the cartridge from him and holds it up to the light between thumb and forefinger. It's almost as long as her hand. “These are fresh from the black works on Utopia. Subsonic large-bore armour-piercing tungsten coated shells.”

Nice. A subsonic round generates substantially less recoil, which is handy when firing a large calibre weapon on full auto. The recoil from ordinary supersonic rounds would dislocate your shoulder as soon as you pulled the trigger. Subsonic also means they generate no boom as the bullet passes through the sound barrier like normal bullets do. That means less noise, which is preferable in closed quarters fighting. All this goodness comes at the price of range, but we won't be doing any sniping onboard that ship.

Jagr taps a chipped nail against the bullet. Three