Overpowered

By Kenneth McDonald

Former spacer Kevan “Mac” McDougal has spent the last two years stranded on the frozen planet Crucible. The AI that held Mac and the other survivors of past crashes captive within a power-dampening field is gone, but the challenge of making a life out of the harsh environment of Crucible remains. But when a League scout ship finally arrives, it brings news of a new threat rather than the promise of rescue. Mac must lead the survivors of the colony in a desperate fight against an insectoid alien race with its own plans for Crucible, plans that do not include the survival of its human inhabitants.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kenneth McDonald
• Release date: Oct 18, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311401557

Kenneth McDonald

I am a retired education consultant who worked for state government in the area of curriculum. I have also taught American and world history at a number of colleges and universities in California, Georgia, and South Carolina. I started writing fiction in graduate school and never stopped. In 2010 I self-published the novella "The Labyrinth," which has had over 100,000 downloads. Since then, I have published more than fifty fantasy and science fiction books on Smashwords. My doctorate is in European history, and I live with my wife in northern California.

Book preview

Overpowered

Book Two in the Refugees of the Crucible Series

Kenneth McDonald

[e-mail]

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2015 by Kenneth McDonald

Cover Credit: The cover image is adapted from the painting The Road to Vetheuil, Snow Effect by Claude Monet (1879). The image is in the public domain.

* * * * *

Works by Kenneth McDonald

The Ogre at the Crossroads

Refugees of the Crucible

Powerless

Overpowered

Soul Weapons

Wizard’s Shield

Soul of the Sword

Wizard’s Stone

Tales of the Soul Weapons

The Colors of Fate

Black Shadows Gather

Green Hearts Weep

Red Vengeance Rising

Faded Yellow Dreams

Blazing White Stars

Shiny Golden Schemes

The Mages of Sacreth

The Labyrinth

Of Spells and Demons

Grimm’s War

Grimm’s Loss

Grimm’s Love

The Godswar Trilogy

Paths of the Chosen

Choice of the Fallen

Fall of Creation

Daran’s Journey

Heart of a Hero

Soul of a Coward

Will of a Warrior

Courage of a Champion

* * * * *

Chapter 1

Mac crouched in the snow and examined the tracks. They looked to be fairly fresh, a few cycles old at most. From their shape and size he judged that his quarry was an adult male. A predator at the peak of its strength and skill. Just like him.

Mac snorted at the thought as he straightened, reflexively checking the state of the pull on his bow. He’d have to replace the string soon if he kept the weapon strung for much longer, but for now it was poised, the energy stored in the curve of tempered wood waiting to be unleashed.

The tracks continued ahead, out past the thinning trees into a broad meadow covered in mounds of drifted snow. Beyond that the ground rose steadily to the rim of the valley that the morkat had chosen for its home. No cover out there, nowhere for the animal to hide. It could have fled the valley entirely, abandoning it to its rival hunters. But Mac didn’t think so.

He smiled. He’d come a long way in two years, that was certain. His eyes kept drifting up as they reached the ridge, up into the sky that was covered in a solid gray drape from horizon to horizon. About a standard Crucible day, the pale light of the planet’s distant star filtering down through the cloud cover to shine weakly upon its surface. That faint glow was the only thing that made this frozen and unfriendly planet even remotely habitable. Humans had found a way to live here, even before the change that Mac had wrought two years ago, but the Crucible didn’t make it easy.

Mac’s eyes lingered on those clouds. He had made a life for himself here, but he still spent a lot of time looking up into the sky. Beyond those clouds were stars, and the bigger universe of a past life. A life he’d spent voyaging between those distant points of light, first as a League pilot and then as the captain of an interstellar freighter.

He was not so lost in his reminiscences that he failed to note the slight rustle in the trees behind him, or the soft thud of a body landing lightly in the snow. He might have looked like he was daydreaming, may even have been, a bit, but he knew this trick. He spun around, fitting the arrow he’d slid into his hand to the string of his bow, sliding it into place with an efficiency born of much practice.

The morkat was an impressive specimen, a hundred and fifty kilos of raw animal power. It somewhat resembled an Earth mountain lion, though the bony ridges that jutted out from under its thick hide and the oversized yellow orbs that shone within the hollows of its skull belied that impression. Pale gray fur covered it like a drape, the fringes trailing from under its jaw and from its armored flanks like the hem of an oversized coat.

The ‘kat opened its huge, powerful jaws, displaying the bony ridges inside that could crush a limb or snap a neck as effectively as a pressor vice. Mac knew the power of those jaws personally; he’d once found himself pinned under a morkat, back in the days when he’d still been a novice to the ways of this hostile planet.

But now he knew the hunter’s tricks, and even as the morkat launched itself forward he drew back the bow and sighted down the length of the arrow. The creature’s low posture and thick skull made a kill shot from directly ahead a chancy prospect, and he knew he’d only get one shot before it was on him. He felt an almost palpable urge to toss the bow aside and reach for the blaster on his hip. It would make the kill easy, but it would also ruin the pelt.

And besides, it was a question of honor, one hunter to another.

The ‘kat bounded forward, closing the distance between them in a blur. Mac selected the point where he guessed that the creature would crouch for its leap, and held the bow fully tensed. His tired muscles trembled slightly from the strain, but it would not be much longer.

There was a soft hiss. The morkat staggered, the fringe of fur below its jaw briefly sweeping the snow in front of it before the head came up again. It fixed on him again, but while it had barely slowed its charge its steps were no longer smooth and certain. It veered back but overcompensated, lurching to its right before it was able to correct. Mac could see spots of bright red dotting the snow in its wake.

He lowered his bow. The morkat let out a hiss that to the human seemed to combine fury and frustration. It was still coming, but its rush had become a drunken reel and the spots of blood had become bright puddles. It passed the point where Mac had guessed it would begin its leap. For a moment he thought it might still somehow make it across those last few meters that separated them, but finally the ‘kat slumped over, falling to its side where it lay there heaving. Mac could now clearly see the shaft of the arrow that jutted up just behind its right shoulder, almost completely buried inside its body. A killing shot, confirmed by how quickly the morkat’s struggles eased. Mac was relieved that he didn’t have to put it out of its mercy.

A figure approached out of the trees to his left. Like him the new arrival was clad in heavy furs that were the necessary attire when one ventured out onto the Crucible’s icy exterior. But where he embodied strength, this hunter was graceful agility, her boots seeming to blur over the snow as though the enhanced gravity of the planet couldn’t quite grab hold of her. This was an illusion, of course, but it still affected him seeing her this way. The bow in her hand was an echo of his, and she also carried a pair of long knives tucked through her belt. As she drew closer she pulled back the hood of her coat to reveal short curls of brown hair framing a face that had come into its adult fullness while still aglow with the energy of youth. That energy seemed to flash into the grin she shot at him, streaking through the air like a blaster bolt and jolting him with its power.

I could have taken it, Mac said.

I know, but I had the shot, Lessa said. Tough to take down a morkat from straight on, not something I prefer to do if it can be avoided.

All right, but this doesn’t count as you saving my life again.

She unfastened one of the knives at her belt and tossed it to him, sheath and all. He caught it against his body. Well, since I got the kill, you get to clean it, she said with a grin.

* * *

Less than half a cycle later the two hunters were back at their camp, a natural niche in a hillside near the entrance to the valley where they’d stalked the morkat. Mac staked out the morkat hide on sticks near their fire to dry, while Lessa sorted through their supplies. They’d left the rest of the dead ‘kat behind. The meat was greasy and unappetizing, which was saying something given the nature of Crucible’s cuisine. Normally they would have brought the bones back for grinding, but this was only the start of a long scout and they didn’t need that extra weight given what waited ahead of them.

For a time they worked in companionable silence. They had come to unspoken agreement that they’d stop in the valley for the night, even though the long Crucible day still had plenty of light left in it. But Mac had learned that the first day of an extended scout was best taken slow, to give bodies and instincts spoiled by civilization time to adjust to the harsher realities of the wild.

When he had finished he glanced up across the fire at Lessa. She sensed his attention and showed him another of those grins that was as hot as the flames between them. So… for supper tonight do you want dunroot stew, or dunroot bake, or dunroot surprise?

Even after two years of eating the stuff, it’s still always a surprise, Mac said. My taste buds make a deliberate effort to forget after each meal.

I have some of Marta’s herbs… she said, holding up a small leather pouch.

Remind me to thank her when we swing by the Reach on our way back, Mac said. And for the new bow. I didn’t get a chance to test it proper, but I like the pull.

I can’t wait to see how big Caleb has gotten, Lessa said, tucking her knees up under her lithe body.

Zander’s a lucky man, Mac said.

She shot him a sharp look, but it only lasted a moment before it was replaced by that irrepressible grin. He is that. She lowered her eyes shyly. Perhaps a little bit later, he won’t be the only one.

Mac’s smile echoed hers at that, but before he could respond a cold gust of wind knifed through the valley. It swirled around the boulders that fringed their shelter and caused the fire to dance violently before it eased. The chill it had brought lingered even after the wind faded and the flames returned to their normal intensity. It was a reminder that here on Crucible, nature was always present and always a danger.

The wind had blown a chill over the budding mood as well. Do you really think we’re going to find anything up there? Lessa asked. She poked at the fire with a stick.

I don’t know, Mac said.

Half of the Mountain is just… gone, she said. The cave we used to enter the AI’s sanctuary, it’s a hundred meters up in the air now. Surely whatever was under it was destroyed by the impact.

Mac didn’t respond at first, he just stared into the flames. Two years ago he and Lessa had come to the mountain that had loomed over the human colonists of the Crucible for more than two centuries, ever since the Salvation, the lost colony ship carrying Lessa’s ancestors, had crashed here. Mac had been the most recent arrival, his ship caught in the dampening field that had surrounded the planet and prevented most forms of modern technology from operating.

The dampening field had turned to not be a natural phenomenon. It had been the product of an alien artificial intelligence that operated within a vast complex of chambers and tunnels that burrowed into the heart of the mountain. Mac had briefly confronted that AI, or at least a projection of it, when he’d been taken captive by it. Through some caprice of its original programming it had freely acknowledged to him that its purpose had been to study the starfaring races its energy-draining field brought to the planet’s surface. In a way the entire valley and all its inhabitants—human colonists, the Bulrazi, and one lost freighter captain—had served as a vast laboratory experiment, like bacteria multiplying in a Petri dish unaware of the microscope looming overhead.

Mac had revealed the existence of that microscope, and he’d destroyed it, by summoning the cargo module from his freighter down from its elliptical orbit around the planet and using its own AI to guide it directly into the alien AI’s mountain stronghold. The crash had been devastating, and even now there was a part of him that agreed with Lessa that there was no way the AI could have survived it. It had taken the human settlers at the Refuge the better part of a year to rebuild from the aftermath of that crash, and there were places in the valley that were still suffering from the disruptions it had caused.

But there was another part that remembered what the AI had briefly shown him, what it had told him. That part still had its doubts.

Hey, penny for your thoughts, Lessa said.

Mac shook himself out of his reverie. Sorry. You’re probably right. But it can’t hurt to survey the southern approach anyway, see what other changes the crash caused in the valley landscape.

And maybe find a way over the mountains, she finished for him.

The broad natural bowl that housed the Refuge, the Reach, and the territory controlled by the Bulrazi was a valley hundreds of kiloms across. It was surrounded on all sides by a steep range of mountains that made the sometimes rough terrain between those settlements seem trivial by comparison. Mac knew that most of the planet, outside of the relatively narrow equatorial band, was a solid block of ice. But he couldn’t help but wonder what lay beyond the immediate confines of their valley. The original survivors from the Salvation had tried crossing those mountains, only to find sources of radiation that had turned them back. Had those sources been natural, or another feature of the AI’s prison? Mac and Lessa each carried a few strips of sensor tape that was leftover from the original colony’s resources, in case they got a chance to find out. But Mac’s primary interest was in the Mountain, and any clues they might find that might suggest whether some part of the alien AI still lurked quiescent within its tomb.

Lessa turned away from him, digging in her pack for the small pot of hammered shipsteel they carried to prepare their meals. Metal was scarce on Crucible, and virtually every such artifact had been fabricated from the remains of the Salvation. In some cases tools were reborn several times over as the former colonists recycled worn-out items to new purposes. It was a reminder of the legacy that her people had gone through.

Mac got up and went over to her. Dunroot surprise it is, she said lightly, but he stopped her from reaching for the packet of pressed root cakes that were the dietary staple of the Refuge. He took both of her hands in his as he knelt next to her.

Whatever we find up there, we’ll face it together, he said.

Right, she said.

I love you, he said.

I love you too, she said. She leaned up into him, but before their lips could touch they were interrupted by a sound, a distant reverberation that had Mac looking over his shoulder as he shot to his feet. The Mountain was hidden over the rim of their little valley, but as the sound continued and built in intensity he grabbed his bow and started up toward the nearest vantage.

Lessa caught up to him within a few steps, stringing her bow as she ran lightly over the uneven rocks. The spaces between them were filled with snow, making the footing treacherous, but Mac barely slowed as the slope grew steeper. It sounds like a ship! he yelled back at her.

They moved through a light fringe of brush and then sprinted up the final stretch of ground to the crest. Mac was already scanning the skies as he reached the top of the rise, but it was Lessa who spotted it first. There! she said, pointing.

The dark streak was barely visible as it emerged from the clouds, but it took on definition as it descended. It was still too far away to make out clearly, and Mac cursed the lack of a viewer, but he stared at it as if will alone could cause it to take on definition across the kiloms that separated them.

It’s small, he finally said. A fast scout or lander, maybe.

It’s headed for the Refuge! Lessa said, pointing again as the ship descended. There was a brief flare as the craft fired reaction engines, then it turned in a broad arc before it fell below the line of the landscape and dropped out of view.

Mac turned and met her gaze. His earlier ennui was gone, replaced by an animation that sparked in his eyes as they fixed on hers. We’ll never make it back before dark, even if we run, Lessa said.

Mac smiled. Wanna bet?

She shot him a smirk and started back toward their camp. He lingered just a moment longer, staring up at the sky where the ship had appeared, then followed her.

* * * * *

Chapter 2

Crucible’s star was already fading behind the western horizon when Mac and Lessa reached the Rim.

Lessa normally had a better wind than Mac, but it was she who had to push herself to keep up as they made their way quickly back over the trails they had spent the morning and early afternoon navigating. The young woman was familiar with her companion’s determination, but ever since he’d seen the ship it was as if he was being dragged forward by a lodestone. He never got so far ahead that she lost sight of him, but neither could she overtake him.

She finally caught up to him at the edge of an overlook that laid the valley of the Refuge out dramatically before them. Mac was leaning against a stunted tree that had found purchase in the stony soil near the cliff edge, shuddering as he gasped in air.

Are you all right? she asked. She was rather winded herself, and felt a sheen of sweat soaking her underclothes, but still felt a tingle of pride at their accomplishment. It had been quite a run.

He didn’t respond—couldn’t, most likely—but he waved and nodded. He lowered his head to ease the flow of blood.

Lessa waited until she was sure he wasn’t going to pass out, then stepped forward to the edge of the cliff.

The Rim surrounded the valley that held the settlement where she’d lived most of her life. The almost sheer cliffs formed a decisive boundary that rose between thirty and fifty meters in height. The stories she’d been told in her youth said that it had been created by the crash of the Salvation, the event that had begun the ordeal her ancestors had faced in adjusting to the reality of this harsh world. It seemed almost unbelievable, confronted by the vastness of the landscape in front of her, but she supposed that it didn’t really matter.

From their current position the valley looked like a single vast forest, extending to the far cliffs just barely visible in the distance. But she knew where the Refuge was, and when she peered intently in that directly she could just make out the faint flicker of its lights through the canopy of trees. From the east side of the Rim, where the only easy break in the cliffs offering a navigable trail down into the valley was situated, she would have been able to see it more clearly.

It’ll be full dark soon, she said, turning back to Mac. We should make for High Rocks and set camp.

Mac rose, though he was obviously far from fully recovered. No, he said. We have rope, we can just rappel down.

Lessa shook her head. You know how dangerous these cliffs are, even in the best conditions. There’s too much risk in just picking a random spot for a descent.

Well. We’re close to the Giant’s Staircase, aren’t we?

She shot him a stern look. As I recall, you had trouble with that climb the last time we tried it, and that was in the middle of the day and without the exhaustion of a half-day run.

Mac pushed off from the tree. I’m okay, he said. Besides, down is easier.

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

Lessa, he said. I need to know. Please.

All right. We’ll have to be quick though. I’m as curious as you about the ship, but I won’t venture the Staircase in full dark. Agreed?

Agreed. Lead on, I’ll keep up, he said.

The sun had disappeared by the time they reached their destination, but the planet’s slow rotation meant that a lingering twilight left just enough illumination for them to find their way. The Giant’s Staircase was a feature that had been discovered and named by Lessa’s