Bridge Across the Stars: A Sci-Fi Bridge Original Anthology

by Rhett C. Bruno

  “Well, you and your fancy armor get to lead the way and be the snake bait.” McCall waved in the direction of their destination, or at least the spot marked on her map. There wasn’t anything remotely resembling a trail.

  “Gladly.” McKenzie popped a laser cutter out of her arm piece and sliced into the brush and vines. “I appreciate you coming along.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I do, however, wish you’d brought your android. He told me he was named Scipio after a great war hero from Old Earth.”

  “True, but he named himself Scipio. He’s very useful, but he’s a personal assistant model, originally designed to run errands for important businessmen.” McCall followed her sister, doing her best to avoid the dangling vines and clawing thorns. Her skin already felt itchy. The terraformers had probably thought allergy-inducing foliage would add insult to injury on their penal moon.

  “And now he runs errands for you?” McKenzie sounded wistful.

  “Sort of. I made him my business partner so he gets fifty percent of everything.”

  “Fifty percent of your money? What in the universe do androids do with money?”

  “I don’t know about other androids, but he collects hats and ceramic eggs.”

  “Eggs?”

  “Apparently, eggs are a geometrically appealing shape. He finds them soothing.”

  “Soothing?” McKenzie ducked under a branch. “Your android needs to be soothed? That’s not typical, is it?”

  “For people who have to work with me? It may be.”

  “I meant for androids.”

  “I know. It was a joke.”

  “It wasn’t funny.”

  “Are you sure? You’re not the best judge of such things.”

  McKenzie grumbled something under her breath and didn’t ask another question. Good. McCall didn’t like giving people information on Scipio since her acquisition of him had been unorthodox. A rescue, he’d called it. McCall was fairly certain the empire considered it thievery and wanted him back. But as long as they believed him destroyed, she hoped it wouldn’t be a problem.

  The dry vines above McKenzie’s head rustled loudly. McCall jerked her blazer out again but didn’t spot the brown snake blending in with the brown foliage until it was upon them. Six inches thick and who knew how long, it curled around McKenzie’s armored torso with the speed of a bullwhip snapping around a branch.

  As McCall took aim, McKenzie shrieked and flailed. Her laser cutter was still on, and it shot wildly through the vegetation in all directions.

  McCall cursed and ducked as the beam lanced toward her. She scrambled behind her sister, trying to aim as McKenzie flailed. She fired twice, her blazer bolts sailing wide. The snake coiled further and constricted. Something popped—McKenzie’s armor?

  Taking cover behind a tree, McCall forced herself to stop moving long enough to aim effectively. McKenzie continued to gyrate as she tried to grip the snake and tear it free. Its body seemed to flex, and it lifted her from her feet. She shrieked.

  McCall took a deep breath, lined up her sights, and fired. A bolt slammed into the snake. She fired again, aiming at spots above her sister. Her armor should repel blazer bolts, but there was no need to take chances.

  McCall struck again and again, blowing gaping holes in the snake. It tightened, and another pop came from McKenzie’s armor.

  Her boots dangled at eye level, and McCall worried the snake would never let go, that they would both disappear into the trees. She fired recklessly and often, trying to blow open its head, a head that was tucked under her sister’s armpit.

  Her shots grazed McKenzie’s armor, but enough of them struck, and the snake finally had enough. It let go of her abruptly, and she crashed into the leaf litter, landing on her back.

  McCall shot twice more, afraid the creature would regroup and attack again. Almost as abruptly as it had let go, it fell out of the vines. It landed in a pile atop McKenzie, and she shrieked one more time.

  “Get it off!” She sounded angry and frustrated as much as afraid.

  McCall wanted to help, but she also didn’t want to touch it with her bare hands. It looked slimy and slick, and she hated things with weird textures. Especially dead things with weird textures.

  “I think you can just roll away from it.” McCall eyed their surroundings, the vines and leaves far too close for comfort. A hundred more predators could be within ten meters of them, and she would never know it.

  As McKenzie grunted and heaved dramatically—as if her armor didn’t allow her to easily flick aside a snake, even a twenty-foot one—a green amorphous blob floated past. At first, McCall thought it some strange leaf caught on the wind, but it wriggled stalks or perhaps antennae at her, then tripled its speed, disappearing into the foliage. She had no idea what it was or what propelled it.

  “I wonder if scientists created everything here, or if there was any native life before the terraforming,” McCall said, twisting her bracelet as she peered at the alien growth. Upon closer inspection, what she had assumed were towering trees appeared to be colonies of vines.

  “I wonder if snake blood comes off combat armor.” McKenzie swiped ineffectively at the gore on her chest, then grimaced at a dark stain on the corner of her pack. Somehow, she’d kept the straps on while flailing about.

  “Probably with a sponge rather than a gauntlet. It would be a pity if armor could deflect bullets and blazer bolts, but not repel stains.”

  Leaves rustled, and the dead snake was yanked into the undergrowth. McCall jumped, grabbing her blazer again.

  But whatever claimed the snake for dinner didn’t show itself. She swallowed, imagining the strength of whatever had pulled the big snake away so quickly.

  McKenzie took a deep breath and faced forward, lifting her cutting tool to continue forging a path. “Shangri-La, Shangri-La,” she whispered, almost a chant.

  McCall shook her head as she followed. If they found a colony somewhere in all this, would McKenzie truly like the people there? Maybe it was a betrayal to “her kind,” but McCall didn’t usually like people like her that much. They often seemed aloof and prickly or tedious as they rambled on about odd passions. Normal people were easier to get along with. McCall’s favorites were those rare souls who were comfortable in their own skins and had a knack for making others feel at ease too.

  “Is there not a way you could work for yourself?” McCall asked as they pushed vines aside and clambered over moss-carpeted logs. “Back on Perun.”

  “The systems I design are on the scale of cities and require teams.”

  “What if you led the teams?”

  “I’d still be working for an employer. I don’t have your entrepreneurial streak, so I don’t know how I could make a business of it and call all the shots. I’m not even sure I want that. I just want…” McKenzie paused, frowning at her prints in the earth.

  “To be accepted for who you are?”

  McKenzie snorted. “Three suns, that’s cheesy.”

  “But not wrong?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Why didn’t you ever … I mean, did you consider the surgery?”

  “I considered it.” McKenzie looked back. “Did you? They say it doesn’t change you.”

  “Yes, they say that. Which is amusing since what would be the point if it didn’t change you?”

  “You know what they mean. Your personality and memories stay the same, though apparently, you’re less prone to emotional outbursts and fighting with your sister.”

  “Clearly, you should have signed up right away.”

  McKenzie snorted again. “If I really felt impaired, I’d do it. But when you have something you’re good at, and maybe you’re only good at it because you think differently than others do, it’s scary to contemplate changing the way your brain cells rub together.”

  “I know.”

  McCall had probably read all the same accounts of people who’d undergone the “normalization” surgery, as the imperial doctor
s called it. Most of the time, parents made the decision to do it when kids were little, so they didn’t have a choice in the matter. McCall had wondered occasionally what she would have been like—what school and dating and life would have been like—if Mom had made that decision. But Mom had feared the empire and doctors equally, and she’d avoided them at all costs. In the end, that had cost her her life.

  “I know you do,” McKenzie said. “I’ve looked you up, and it seems you’re unparalleled in your field, as odd as that is.”

  “Odd?” McCall tamped down her natural inclination toward bristling at a slight.

  “You can’t look people in the eye and don’t seem to get them any more than I do, but you can figure out where they’re hiding when they disappear from the system.”

  “I’m using the sys-net and deductive reasoning, not studying people’s pupils. I do have a long list of typical human motivations next to my desk. When I’m stuck, I look at them. Sometimes, I have to remind myself that people are motivated by weird things.”

  “What are you motivated by?”

  “Having the freedom to control my own destiny.”

  “That’s a hard thing to do in the empire,” McKenzie said. “Hells, that’s been a hard thing to do throughout human history.”

  “I have my own ship, fly where I want, work my own hours, take on the cases I want. It’s enough.”

  “Yeah, I have to admit I’m jealous that you have it all figured out.”

  McCall tripped over a root. “You’re jealous of me?”

  McKenzie turned around—bits of vine and leaves had joined the dried blood sticking to her chest. “That surprises you?”

  “Yes, actually. You were the one who got all those awards, and—I don’t know. You always gave off the impression you thought I was a twit.”

  McKenzie gazed into the brush. McCall wasn’t the only one who found prolonged eye contact uncomfortable.

  “I’d like to pretend I didn’t realize I was kind of an ass,” McKenzie said slowly, “but it always bothered me that you were a weirdo and you knew it and you didn’t care. You even seemed happy being weird. And I tried so hard to be … one of them. Because I couldn’t stand being snickered at or talked about behind my back. I wanted everyone to like me so they wouldn’t do that. I think, deep down, I knew you were a better person when it came to that stuff, and I resented that I couldn’t be like that. Maybe I was smug about my grades and awards, but I had to be better than you at something.”

  The honesty floored McCall. Maybe it had been worth this trek if only to hear it.

  “If it helps, not everything is perfect for me,” she said. “I’ve crafted a life that makes me comfortable, yes, but it concerns me sometimes that I’ve never figured out relationships and that my closest friends are a dog and an android. Like, will I die alone? Will anyone even remember me when I’m gone?”

  “I’d say I’d remember you, but I’m two years older, so you could outlive me.”

  A screech came from the canopy above them.

  “Unless I get eaten by a snake in here,” McCall said. “Though at least I won’t die alone then.”

  “What are you talking about? I’ll sprint back to the ship if a snake is munching on you. You’ll be completely alone.” McKenzie grinned at her.

  “You’re still an ass, you know.”

  “Yeah.” McKenzie thumped her on the shoulder.

  McCall almost pitched into the brush—her sister wasn’t used to that extra strength yet. But she righted herself and didn’t complain. Neither of them had ever been huggers, much to their mother’s chagrin, and this was as close to sisterly camaraderie as they’d gotten in a long time. Maybe ever.

  “Is it petty,” McKenzie asked, “that it does make me feel better to know that you haven’t gotten it all figured out?”

  “Extremely petty. But I’ll be petty right back and hope that snake-blood stain doesn’t come out of your armor.”

  “That’s so evil.”

  * * *

  The hives spreading across the backs of McCall’s hands were starting to look like a relief map of the Kataran Mountains on Perun. Thorns clawed her through her clothing and cut at any skin she’d been foolish enough to leave exposed. The screeches, hoots, and whistles of the jungle grated on her nerves, and she caught herself taking deep breaths, fighting for calm amid the chaos of it all.

  As she slogged after her sister, McCall tugged at her bracelet and fought the urge to itch her hives. Her toes were completely numb, leaving her on the verge of ripping off the jet boots and walking barefoot. She’d hoped to use them to fly under the canopy, in addition to bypassing cliffs, but the foliage was too dense for navigating easily on land or in the air.

  Everything was combining to frustrate and irritate her. She longed for her peaceful cabin aboard the Surfer.

  McKenzie cut away some vines, somehow causing a head-sized cone to plop onto McCall’s shoulder. Thorns bit through her shirt before it bounced off.

  “Ouch,” she blurted. “Damn it, Kenzie. Why couldn’t you have just asked for money like Cousin Anise does?”

  The words came out more savagely than she intended, and as usual when she lost her temper, she felt guilty afterward. Especially when McKenzie gazed back at her, as unperturbed as a cat in a sunbeam. Maybe her combat armor made her less prone to the irritations of the jungle. Or maybe the fact that this was her quest granted her equanimity.

  “Because I have pride,” McKenzie said.

  “Sounds inconvenient.”

  “Sometimes it is.” McKenzie pointed in the direction they’d been heading. “According to your map, we’re getting close. My sensors don’t show any life up there. Which is weird.”

  “Weird?”

  “No life at all.”

  “Ah, no snakes or birds, either?”

  “Right. I’m thinking there may be some kind of forcefield or camouflage to make the colony hard to find.” McKenzie bounced on her toes. “This is our first proof that something is here.”

  “Huh.” McCall hadn’t truly expected to find anyone living out here. The penal colony inhabitants kept to the far side of the moon and weren’t encouraged to wander.

  “Careful, you’ll overwhelm me with your excitement.”

  “I’m containing my urge to issue loud whoops lest I attract more predators.”

  “Uh-huh. According to my sensors, we’re almost at the end of our box canyon. Our destination. Can you fly up ahead and see if you can spot it from above?” McKenzie pointed to the jet boots. “It looks less dense up there now.”

  Glad to have a reason to use the toe-numbing boots, McCall tapped the controls and went aloft without argument. “Less dense” did not mean clear, and she had to dart around branches and vines like a ship navigating the Kir Asteroid Belt. She couldn’t see the sky through the canopy, and soon she couldn’t see the ground, either.

  She passed more of those floating blobs, none appearing alarmed by her presence this time. Or so she thought. Abruptly, they whooshed away in multiple directions. Fleeing from her? Or some more dangerous predator?

  The hairs on the back of her neck rose, and she had the sensation of being watched.

  “Do your sensors show anything big up here?” she called, pulling out her blazer and rotating to peer in all directions.

  It had grown quiet, birds and other creatures falling silent, and she could hear her sister cutting vines from her path.

  “It’s hard to distinguish the size of any one thing when there’s such a mass of life all around,” McKenzie called back. “I—wait. There’s—”

  The thunderous snapping of branches drowned out her words. A huge green creature flew toward McCall, tearing away vines as it flapped leathery wings.

  She glimpsed scales, talons, and an open maw filled with giant fangs. That was enough. She fired at its head and whirled away, angling her boots to take her toward the ground.

  Thorns and twigs clawed at her, but she barely noticed. Not with that thing bar
reling straight after her, the loud snaps of branches announcing its passage.

  “McCall?” came a call from the ground. “Are you all right?”

  McCall glanced back as she weaved between vines, trying to find a tight area where the creature—the dragon—couldn’t follow. But it was right behind her. Breaking through obstacles she had to go around.

  “No!” she cried, almost crashing into a tangle of thick vines as she fired rapidly.

  Her blazer bolts struck the creature in the head—one took it right between the eyes—but it was as if it wore combat armor. The blasts bounced off its scales.

  “Lead it here!” McKenzie yelled. “I’m armored.”

  McCall doubted that would be enough, but she didn’t know what else to do. She swooped downward, trying to find the ground, having some notion that she’d be safer down there. A delusion, perhaps.

  A massive blue beam lanced out of the jungle ahead. Light? A weapon? It shot past only a couple of feet above McCall’s head.

  The dragon shrieked as the beam hammered into its chest. For the first time, it faltered. Faltered, but did not halt. It roared in agony and rage, eyes locking on to McCall, as if she’d done that.

  Its massive jaws yawned open, and a gout of flames shot out.

  McCall dove so hard and fast that she slammed shoulder-first into the ground. The heat of the flames scorched the air above her, and she imagined her eyebrows being singed off.

  Rolling to her back, she fired. The dragon was still coming, angling downward, its talons outstretched.

  She shot at its chest where a char mark had melted scales and burned into flesh and muscle. Her blazer seemed puny against its mass, and the dragon didn’t slow down. Gravity swept it toward her.

  Crashes came from the side, McKenzie running toward her, but she would be too late to help. McCall tried to roll away, but logs and brush fenced her in.

  As certain death descended, another massive bolt of blue came out of nowhere. It slammed into the dragon hard enough to hurl it into a copse of trees. Snaps of wood echoed through the jungle.

  McCall jumped to her feet and pushed her way into the brush, away from the dragon and toward the source of those beams, hoping safety lay that way. She met an odd resistance, as if the air had grown ten times as dense, but she was able to push through.