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  Trail of Evil

  Travis S. Taylor

  BOOK #4 IN THE BEST-SELLING TAU CETI AGENDA SERIES. Humanity takes to interstellar space to face conflict and an extermination threat from an evil artificial intelligence, and a possible menace from beyond.

  A century and a half after the Martian Separatist Wars, and the final defeat of insane terrorist leader El Ahmi, Alexander Moore returns to the stars with the Sienna Madira, a United States Navy supercarrier spacecraft outfitted with advanced FTL and endlessly strange, extremely effective, quantum-based weapons and remote sensing technology. And, of course, he's brought Marines, and lots of them. These are troops superbly trained for space battle, and equipped with advanced powered armor and artificial intelligence backup.

  Moore's task: hunt down remnant weaponry platforms left by the brilliant, mad artificial intelligence known as Copernicus, the being ultimately responsible for the Solar System wide civil war. Yet Moore is about to uncover something far more sinister: before his destruction, Copernicus had established multiple mecha-warrior defended bases with the intent of resuming the destruction of humanity. Worse, an a.i. presence even more dangerous, evil, and clever than Copernicus may have formed an alliance with something else out there with a similar goal: wipe humanity from the galaxy forever.

  But those enemies will have to face a fully armed and equipped military task force led by a resolute general and his soldiers who know they are all that stand between human life, freedom, and progress—and the total annihilation of mankind.

  Baen Books Fiction by Travis S. Taylor

  The Tau Ceti Agenda Series

  One Day on Mars

  The Tau Ceti Agenda

  One Good Soldier

  Trail of Evil

  Warp Speed Series

  Warp Speed

  The Quantum Connection

  with John Ringo:

  Vorpal Blade

  Manxome Foe

  Claws That Catch

  Von Neumann's War

  with Les Johnson:

  Back to the Moon

  Baen Books Nonfiction by Travis S. Taylor

  New American Space Plan

  The Science Behind The Secret

  Alien Invasion: How to Defend Earth (with Bob Boan)

  TRAIL OF EVIL

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Travis S. Taylor

  A Baen Book

  Baen Publishing Enterprises

  P.O. Box 1403

  Riverdale, NY 10471

  www.baen.com

  ISBN: 978-1-4767-8031-3

  Cover art by Kurt Miller

  First Baen printing, April 2015

  Distributed by Simon & Schuster

  1230 Avenue of the Americas

  New York, NY 10020

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Taylor, Travis S.

  Trail of evil / Travis S Taylor.

  pages ; cm. -- (Tau ceti agenda ; 4)

  "A Baen Books Original."

  ISBN 978-1-4767-8031-3 (hardcover)

  1. Space warfare--Fiction. 2. Artificial intelligence--Fiction. I.

  Title.

  PS3620.A98T73 2015

  813'.6--dc23

  2014043653

  Printed in the United States of America

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  eISBN: 978-1-62579-371-3

  Electronic Version by Baen Books

  www.baen.com

  This book is dedicated to the organizations like Hope for the Warrior and the Wounded Warriors Project. Our great superheroes go off to battle to protect our freedoms, and some of them make the ultimate sacrifice and give their lives. Some of the superheroes make extreme sacrifices that are as devastating, suffering severe injuries that disrupt the rest of their lives and their family’s lives. My heart goes out to those brave soldiers and their brave families. I wish you the best in recovery and happiness. If it were not for the seemingly tireless organizations like Hope for the Warrior, some of these great heroes wouldn’t have the wherewithal to recover and live their lives in peace. Help these projects out any way you can. And pray for our soldiers.

  Maps

  Prologue

  June 15, 2398 AD

  Washington D.C., the White House

  Monday, 9:45 AM, Earth Eastern Standard Time

  “Mr. President, it has been more than four years since the Separatist War ended and two years’ since I left office,” Alexander Moore told his predecessor. Moore knew that his former vice president wasn’t likely to win the election coming up in two years time, and that he’d have to take the appropriate steps while he was still in favor.

  “I’m well aware of the history, Alexander. But while the war is over, there have been continuous mopping-up activities and little skirmishes here and there. You left me with quite a mess.” The president attempted to use a politician’s grin on him. Moore had been there and done that.

  “Well, Mr. President. I’m here to tell you now that you don’t know all of it.” Alexander pursed his lips, ready to spill one of the biggest secrets of humanity. It was a secret that only he and his family knew. There was much more to humanity’s bloody history over the past couple of centuries than met the eye.

  “Alexander, I have been briefed on everything you had been into.” The president sounded a bit dismayed, if not annoyed, at Alexander’s suggestion that he was more in the know than the sitting president.

  “Well, nobody could brief you on this, Mr. President, because there are only six people alive who know about it. And with all due respect, sir, you are not one of them yet.” Moore paused to gauge the president’s reaction. The man must be a good poker player, he thought.

  “Okay, Alexander, I’ll bite. Tell me.”

  “Well, sir, it works best if I show you direct-to-mind,” Alexander said, tapping the side of his temple with his pointer finger. “That okay with you?”

  “Very well.”

  “Alright then, pay close attention to the video feeds and audio tracks you are about to see. This is from nearly two hundred years ago during Sienna Madira’s third term as senator.” Alexander started the direct-to-mind movie data. The entire sequence of events lasted about three minutes. Moore could tell from the president’s reaction that he was as frightened as Moore had hoped he would be.

  “My God, Alexander! How has nobody ever found this before?” the president asked.

  “I’m not sure, sir. But I am pretty certain that Sienna Madira covered her tracks well, but left this bread crumb, this trail, for us to follow—for whatever reason,” Alexander said.

  “What do you want me to do about it, Alexander?” The President seemed genuinely perplexed.

  “My idea is actually very simple, sir. I want you to activate and promote me immediately to four-star commanding general of an Expeditionary Mission to track down further evidence of this threat. The U.S.S. Sienna Madira is about to be decommissioned. Give her to me and let me handpick a skeleton crew. I’ll take a small force into space and follow these breadcrumbs and report back on the threat. I will neutralize it if possible, but at a minimum I will gather recon and report back.”

  “You have this all worked out, don’t you?”

  “I’ve been, uh, monitoring the Separatist mopping-up actions since I left office. It seems that every time you turn around a new outpost is uncovered. I think these outposts are part of this bigger story. I think the outposts are the breadcrumbs left behind somehow by Sienna Madira, leading us out into the stars to a bigger, more dangerous threat than our own civil war problems,” Moore explained.

  “Okay, Alexander, I will see
what I can do.” The President shook his head and chuckled. “General, huh? What was it you used to always say? Once a Marine, uh . . .”

  “Once a Marine, always a Marine, Mr. President.”

  Chapter 1

  November 3, 2406 AD

  27 Light-years from the Sol System

  Thursday, 10:45 AM, Expeditionary Mission Standard Time

  “What was that?” Deanna turned and looked over her shoulder for the glimmer of movement she was certain was there. She saw nothing on her sensors.

  “What? I don’t see it. Nothing on the scanners, mate. Don’t be getting jumpy on me, Marine,” Navy SEAL Lieutenant Davy Rackman replied in his thick Aussie accent. He swept the barrel of his hypervelocity automatic rifle from left to right behind them watching for the sensors of his armored environment suit to detect a potential target. Deanna could tell by the look on his face that he was certain that there was nothing there.

  “This place is creepy. It looks just like the resistance compound on one of the moons of Ares we found, but it is more, uh—” Deanna paused, this time certain she saw something. There was something there just out of the corner of her peripheral vision.

  Bree, she thought to the artificial intelligence counterpart (AIC) implanted in her head. You finding anything?

  Yes. The sunflower-seed-sized superquantum computer answered through its direct-to-mind link to Deanna. Unnerving quiet. In fact, there are no returns on any sensors at all. It is almost like we are being jammed, but there is no evidence of jamming sources.

  I was afraid of that. This stinks of Copernicus.

  We’ve seen it before, her AIC agreed.

  Copernicus had taken over the mind of Dee’s grandmother and turned her into the most crazed, bloodthirsty woman in human history. Dee and her family had been mopping up the remains of the evil AIC’s reign for more than seven years. Dee was hoping that this was the last of the hideouts that the artificial intelligence had managed to construct without its human counterpart’s knowledge.

  “DeathRay, you listening?” she broadcast over her suit’s quantum communications system. The Blue force tracker system displayed directly into her mind a blue dot for his location. He wasn’t that far away.

  “Affirmative, Dee. It’s too quiet. Keep an eye out,” Navy captain and mecha pilot Jack “DeathRay” Boland responded. The two of them had known each other a long time. In a lot of ways Dee looked up to Jack as her mentor, at least when it came to flying. DeathRay had literally saved her life on several occasions, at great risk to his own personal safety. He was like a brother to her. A much older big brother who was also superior to her in military rank. Of course, Dee certainly wouldn’t admit that he was a better pilot—a fact that, after many drinks, had often led to embarrassing competitions—embarrassing for her, not DeathRay.

  “Bree tells me that we’re being jammed,” she said nervously as she checked her scanners again. She hated fighting bots. The damned things could look like anything and be anywhere. Dee longed to be in a firefight with real people for a change.

  “I’m getting the same inputs on my end. Listen, we’re getting ourselves a bit too far apart. We should pull your squad in tighter and meet at the end of the hangar bay on your level. We’re just above you by two levels. Stay frosty and work your way there carefully,” Jack ordered.

  “Roger that, DeathRay. Dee out.”

  Dee brought up the floor-plan schematic in her direct-to-mind (DTM) link. Six blue dots popped into place around her. There were two of her squad members, Chief Simmons and Specialist Adams, one hall to her right, and two more, Sergeant Phillips and Corporal Hawkins, one hall to her left. The quantum imaging system mapped the hallways out, showing that they joined together about a hundred meters in front of them in an elevator foyer.

  The hallways were large enough to drive small mecha loaders through and had bluish-gray metal girders rising from the floor to the ceiling about every five meters. The lighting was nonfunctional but the armored environment suits that Dee and her team were wearing had sensors that made the view better than broad daylight. That was, as long as the sensors were fully functional and not being jammed.

  “Hold up, Marine!” Lieutenant Rackman dropped to one knee bringing up his weapon. The metal armor on the knee of his suit clanked against the deck plates. Dee could see his helmet visor sweeping left to right, then up and down. Something had spooked him.

  “What?” Dee hugged the hallway wall behind one of the blue-gray I-beams scanning from one end of the hall to the next. She just wished there was something definite to shoot at. And better yet, something to duck behind. The hallway seemed to stretch out in front of them forever, with nothing but the girders for cover.

  “I, uh, I am sure I saw movement in front of us.” Davy rose slowly. Dee could really tell he looked spooked now. “Sorry, mate. Maybe it’s just the shitty lighting in here.”

  “Damn. I don’t like this. I’m turning my lights on.” Dee flipped the visible floods on her helmet, illuminating the hallway with a brilliant white light. The sensors adjusted contrast on her visor screens and refocused for direct viewing. The white light splashed across the dull black floor and the blue-gray metal walls in a circle that extended in front of them about ten meters. There were thousands of what Dee thought looked like claw marks all down the hallway floor panels.

  “Somebody had some big fucking dogs,” Dee muttered, then she thought for a second to herself, What would Daddy do?

  He’d likely go barreling ass-down into the unknown as fast as he could, laying waste to anything in his path, Bree added.

  In short, he’d kick ass. Well, it works for him, Dee replied. Maybe it’ll work for us.

  Dee connected to her team. “Listen up—Go floods and eyeballs, expect hostiles, and go balls-out to the rendezvous point I just sent you. Don’t trust your sensors and be prepared for anything. Go now!”

  Dee raised her weapon and dropped into a full-speed run. In an armored environment suit, full speed was about four times faster than a human could do by herself.

  “What the hell was that!” one of the squad shouted over the tac-net.

  “Shoot that thing! Get it off me—” the guttural scream that followed from Sergeant Phillips was unnerving. The rapid gunfire immediately after was at least reassuring to Dee that somebody had found whatever it was that was stalking them.

  At that point Dee’s world commenced an upheaval all around her. The walls started to move. The girders were not girders at all. They sprang open like multilegged insects. Each appendage not supporting weight was supporting what appeared to be razor-sharp claws. The walls were covered with them.

  “At least we found the dogs! Rackman, shoot that mother.” Dee opened fire, blasting anything that moved, which in this case was pretty much everything in every direction. Several times the creatures managed to slice her, but the armored suit protected her—mostly. One of the blades managed to get through the armor on her back and into her flesh, but the organogel layer immediately sealed both the wound and the suit. Her life-monitoring system injected pain meds, stimulants, and immunoboost into her body almost immediately afterward. The pain was almost instantly gone and the stims gave her a rush of adrenaline that boosted her performance on all levels. The bots were moving in on them fast, but Dee was a pro and the game had just slowed down for her.

  She turned and could see that Lieutenant Rackman was doing even a little better than her. In fact, he managed to drop the thing with the butt of his rifle. He quickly rolled to her left, firing his weapon the entire while. A bot flung itself from the wall toward Rackman, but he didn’t let up firing at the targets on the right as he reached out with his armored left hand and grabbed at the appendage of the bot, using a ju-jitsu-like move to use its own momentum against it. Rackman yanked the leg of the bot and rolled to his back, tossing the thing behind him and Dee. Dee quickly realized what was going on and managed to take the bot out with the heels of her jumpboots as soon as it hit the deck plating.


  “We’ve got to keep moving!” Rackman shouted, not missing a beat, pulling the trigger on his rifle as he rolled back to his feet.

  “Damned right! What the hell are these things?” Dee ducked her head and barreled right through, blasting away. The spitap-spitap of her hypervelocity rounds zinged into the hallway bulkheads, spraying orange molten metal on impact. “Screw this. Drop some grenades!”

  “Now you’re talkin,’ Marine! Droppin’ some fucking grenades!” The rear launchers on his suit popped open, tossing out two grenades behind them. Dee and Rackman could see the countdown of their fuses in their visor displays. “Run, Marine!”

  “Damn right.” Dee responded by kicking her jumpboots against the floor for an added thrust to her stride. Just as she hit the floor on her next stride, she kicked again with a metal clashing sound reminiscent of a car wreck at a rocket plant as the grenades went off.

  A fraction of a second passed before the concussion wave from the blast tossed the two armored soldiers even farther forward, sprawling in the air with limbs akimbo. They came to a stop on the floor, rolling, clanking sounds turning to a final kathunk to bring the wreck to a halt. The remains of multiple menacing mechanical creatures lay sprayed about. But there were hundreds more still moving and attacking and swarming like killer ants, only worse. Far worse.