All Chapters of The Alpha Protocol: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The ascent through the shaft was a race against the pressure wave. The heat chasing us from the bottom, the ladder pushed us up. As Silas and I gorging and coughing through the maintenance door back into the gene Laboratory 4 rolled, we hit a picture of absolute triumph and exhaustion. The bottom of the laboratory was oversaturated with the smoking, crushed remains of the faceless clones. Nova sat exhausted on a crashed, empty brood capsule, the course of her rifle still painful, while she laboriously sweat from the eyes. Kael was in the middle of the debris field. His martial assembly was torn in pussy, and deep red cuts drew its massive breast, but the toxic green in its Eyes were unbroken. He held the last clone pressed on his neck, Plasma blade just before Kael's face freed when the energy flow ripped off from the depth. With a suspicious cunning Kael threw the lifeless shell aside. “You did it,” Kael grumbled, and a relieved, proud smile stole his lips when he saw m

The sum of the new earth had become a singing of heaven. When we destroyed Omega sector, we had expected a chain reaction – but not that the laws of physics rewrite before our eyes they would. The uncontrolled gravitational nodes that star drivers once in Earth coat had anchored, were through the planetary terraforming reaction thrust got wild. They had not cleaned the atmosphere; they had the crust torn. I stood on the modified lookout of the steel lungs and held my hand in front of the Eyes to look at the dazzling, unfiltered sunlight. Below us there was an abyss of boiling, red-brown sulphide – kilometers far away. We didn't go on the black basalt anymore. We floated. The steel coils were hardly recognizable. The bright, white being from the Ruins had the untied junk in a biomechanical work of art turned. The six massive shovel wheels were gone. In her place were now four huge, ring-shaped gravitational rotors that were sluggish and silent in the cycle of the planeta

The huge wooden ship shoved like a bird silhouette in front of the gleeping Sun. The shadow of his huge, braided mainsail lay cold over the Steel lungs. Chrr-Wumm! The first shot of her spring-loaded slings only missed us Hair width. It was not an explosive plasma, but a tons-heavy, raw sculpted basalt block held together by thick moss ropes. The Stone crashed past our flank into the depth, but the air displacement was so enormously that the steel lungs were shaken like a wave-slot in the orcan. “The slingshots are asymmetric!” Silas cried from below, as he cried a vibrating copper tube clamped. “They use the thermal system to Flying the stones in case to crumble! This is... this is unharmed, precise Analog ballistics!” “I can’t focus on them if we turn around like this!” Nova cried and desperately tried to keep the stand on the fluctuating platform. Kael laid his hands firmer above my on the wooden control cross. I felt them heat of his body, the absolute tranquility

The yard of the wind bridges was a place where the laws of gravity seemed cancelled. It consisted of a series of huge, ring-shaped platforms, that floated around the most massive coral tree of the island. Swing everywhere Handicraftsmen on moss ropes through the air, carried shiny carbonium tarpaulins or adjusted the filigree gears of smaller sliders. In the middle of this controlled chaos the steel lungs rested. A dozen ship-roomsmen of the island flicked over their chrome-plated hull. You do not drill holes in our ship; instead they braided a flexible Skeleton structure made of bright carbonium wood right around our flanks. “This is fascinating,” Silas murmured, sitting on a box and his magnifying glass so close to a piece of the new wood held that its nose almost touched the bark. ‘This wood reacts to pressure. When the wind becomes stronger, the cell structure is compressed and increases stability. It is a biological shock absorber!” “I like the upgrade for the top,”

The Typhon-Synode, once a dark premonition of the decline, was hardly to recognize. Where cold purple light had burned days ago, shimmered now emerald green energy lines through the giant carbonium interfaces of the Colosses. The wind bridge civilization had lost no time: dozens of its wooden sailing ships lay on the massive docking bays of the fortress, and Elastic mosss pockets combine the former sterile sectors with the floating Green reef islands. The fortress of the wind was a giant floating hub – the first flying bazaar of a new era. I stood on the modified deck of the steel lungs and saw the busy driving too. dealers of the wind bridges flee with craftsmen from Ouroboros, the Silas had called up a dull radio relay. Hoses and hoses recycled composites pumped clean, thermodynamically stabilized water from the filter systems of the Synod in the tanks of the airships. In exchange migrating baskets full of glittering coral leaves and nutritious moss substrates about t