by J. N. Chaney
I took a slow breath. “Ready, and—” I glanced over my shoulder. “—Siggy, you’d better catch him, or I swear—”
“Jace!” snapped Abigail. “Now!”
The man let out a curdling scream, like he was drowning, and started to fall.
“Go!” I barked, then squeezed the trigger and fired. Abigail and Bolin followed suit, and we filled the distant air with as many shots as our guns would allow.
Most of them clashed with the rear wall, hailing sparks across the floor or splitting holes inside the metal.
I wasn’t sure if it was my eighth bullet or one of Abby’s, but the air above the debris flickered into a strange kind of shape. It was brief, and I couldn’t see it clearly, but the white color gave it away, and the three of us knew where to focus our firepower.
The entity vanished and reappeared so rapidly that it seemed like a ghost, living somewhere between realities, flickering back and forth. I unloaded both pistols and reached for a new magazine in my jacket, snapping it into place.
All of this in seconds as the scientist fell, screaming uncontrollably.
Luckily, a flat brick of blue light filled the space beneath him, and he continued on into it, crashing and shattering the construct. It wasn’t enough to stop him completely, but it slowed the fall long enough for Sigmond to create another one directly beneath the first.
The man hit that one, too, only to shatter the light again.
The third time was the charm, it seemed. The wall appeared diagonally, catching him and guiding his momentum like a child’s slide, taking him swiftly to the floor where he crashed into one of the birthing chambers.
Sigmond reappeared beside us as soon the constructs vanished. I didn’t stop shooting to thank him.
I couldn’t see how, but the Celestial seemed to move into the air and through the newly-created opening in the ceiling. It continued flickering, all of our shots going through. “Siggy! Use those walls to keep it here! Don’t let it out!” I yelled, running towards the large, mostly invisible creature.
Sigmond disappeared without a word, replaced by a cloud of blue light. It materialized into a band of thin strings, dancing in the space above our heads like music waves on a holo synth. I raised both pistols and fired, once I was beneath the entity, trying to center my shots in the middle of the hole.
At the same time, the hard-light strings swept across the dome and wrapped themselves into a circle, quickly closing around the Celestial. The light tightened and pulled, finally catching part of its body as it briefly appeared in a solid, white form.
I squeezed the trigger one more time, hitting the closest section of the body. The Celestial let out a terrible cry, then let go of the ceiling and immediately disappeared.
Sigmond’s light flickered and broke apart, as though the creature had phased through it somehow.
I swept the room with my guns, eyes darting so quickly I could hardly focus. I breathed heavily, and I could feel my heart beating in my chest, hard ringing inside my ears. “Where did it go?!”
Abigail and Bolin seemed no less confused, turning in every direction, searching for any sign of movement. Sigmond reappeared in the same spot, near the entrance, and only stood there, a curious expression on his calm face.
“I-I think it’s gone,” said Abigail.
The hole in the ceiling loomed above us, all our eyes on it. I squeezed my pistol, anger rising in me as I realized she was right. “Godsdammit!” I shouted, and my voice boomed and echoed through the dome.
Fourteen
We searched the field for nearly two hours, looking for any signs of movement, any indication to tell us where the enemy had gone.
But there was nothing.
In the meantime, we had everyone but our essential personnel evacuated to Titan. A small team stayed behind to explore the Beta site and search for any clues where the Celestial had gone.
“Captain!” shouted Freddie. He was jogging when I turned to him, coming from the landing area. Dressler was right behind him, walking briskly to keep up.
“What is it?” I asked as they arrived.
“Someone found a trail,” he explained.
“We don’t know that,” corrected Dressler, giving Freddie a sideways expression. “But we did find something interesting.”
“What’s your theory, Doc?” I asked, leaning to one side and looping my thumb through my belt.
She cleared her throat, removing her pad from her side pocket. With a quick swipe, she brought up a display of the field, thanks to one of the drones we had observing this area. “We discovered several markings in the field, though it was too difficult to tell when or how they were created. I had Sigmond analyze the feed from one of his drones to see if we could determine whether or not they were created around the time of the attack.”
“And what did you find?” I asked.
“See for yourself,” she said, handing me the pad.
I examined the screen, staring at the empty field with no clue what I was looking at, other than a barren field of mostly flattened earth. The feed zoomed in on a specific piece of brown, which appeared much the same as every other slice of dirt on this lifeless planet. That was when I noticed the time in the upper-righthand corner begin to move forward. A full six hours passed within fifteen seconds, all without any change to the earth. It wasn’t until the ninth hour, when the sun was at its zenith, that an indention appeared along the dry ground.
I scrunched my nose as I tried to decipher what I was seeing. Indentions in the dirt swept across like claw marks. The camera pulled away, only to zoom in at another point, several meters away from the last. Once again, more markings scrawled their way into the dirt, always in the same direction.
This went on for some time before I finally grew tired of watching. “How far do these go?” I finally asked, looking up at Dressler.
She tilted her brow. “We don’t know, precisely. They stop exactly sixteen kilometers from here, towards the north.”
“The north?” I echoed, cocking my head. “Isn’t that where we found the ship?”
“It is,” she returned.
“That’s good, isn’t it?” asked Freddie. “It means we know where it’s headed.”
“It doesn’t tell us what it was doing here,” I said.
Dressler nodded.
I tapped my ear, activating the group channel. “Alphonse, you hear me?”
“I do, Captain,” he replied. He sounded mildly distracted.
“Doc thinks the Celestial is headed home to its ship,” I told him. “How would you feel about putting together a team?”
“Don’t forget the drones,” inserted Freddie.
“I’d love to, but before we get ahead of ourselves, I should mention I’ve found something,” said Alphonse. “Or, rather, the lack thereof.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
Dressler and I exchanged a quick look of confusion, although she hid hers better than I did.
“The Sedicium Core is missing,” explained Alphonse. “I’m standing in the warehouse now. The device has been ripped right out of its canister.”
“What?!” snapped Dressler, her tone so hard it made Freddie jump.
“I’m afraid we’ve all been misdirected,” said Alphonse. “That Celestial has been playing all of us since it arrived.”
* * *
Dressler, Freddie, Abigail, and I arrived at the warehouse in less than half an hour. Before we even landed, I gave orders to Sigmond to send several drones to the Celestial’s ship to observe and report. No engagement. Not yet.
As I entered, I found Alphonse crouched beside the Sedicium Core’s storage container, examining the floor. “Tell me everything you’ve found,” I said, sharply.
He eased himself to his feet. “Good timing.”
“As you might recall, I mentioned that I thought all of this might be some sort of diversion. I only had scraps of evidence at the time, but—”
“You had a feeling there was
more to it,” I finished, knowing exactly what he meant.
“I did, and so I went to examine the core, and look what I’ve found.” He raised a small cotton swab, the end of it covered in a dark shade of red.
“Is that blood?” I asked.
“Seems to be,” he said, twisted the swab between his fingers. “There isn’t much. A few drops, maybe, but enough to run an analysis, I’m sure.”
He placed the swab into a small biohazard bag, sealing it and heading for the entrance.
“Leaving already?” asked Abigail.
“The blood is the only evidence that matters,” said the Constable. “We know almost nothing about its biology. This is our best option for finding out.”
I heard a click in my ear, causing me to bend my neck as I waited for whoever it was to start talking. “Sir, I hate to interrupt,” began Sigmond. “The drones are on their way to the crash site, but there appears to be a slight problem.”
I let out a brief sigh, already knowing where this was going. “Godsdammit,” I muttered.
“What’s wrong?” asked Abigail.
“Might as well share the news with the rest of the class, Siggy,” I said.
“Opening full channel, sir,” said Sigmond. “Greetings, everyone. I was informing the captain that the Celestial ship has relocated.”
Both Freddie and Abigail’s eyes widened, while Alphonse stayed entirely calm. “Let me guess,” said the Constable, cocking his brow. “It’s headed for the Earth’s Core.”
“Precisely so,” said Sigmond.
“Guess we know why it wanted the Sedicium,” said Abigail.
“This is good,” said Alphonse, tapping his chin. “It means it’s not planning on using it as a bomb, but rather a means of opening the slip tunnel.”
“To do what? Escape?” asked Freddie.
“Or call for reinforcements,” I said, imagining the worst possible scenario. “If that Celestial hijacks the tunnel, it can stay here and keep it open while its friends come through.”
Freddie made an audible gulp.
Alphonse paused, then tapping his chin. “This could be a good thing.”
“How do you figure?” asked Freddie, balking.
I shook my head. “He’s right. If that thing goes to the core, it means we’ve still got time to stop it.”
“Shall I relay this information to Bolin, sir?” asked Sigmond.
“Tell them to meet us at the lower platform, near the atrium,” I ordered, then motioned for Freddie and Abigail to follow me as I headed for the entrance.
“In the meantime, I’ll work on getting this blood analyzed,” said Alphonse.
I nodded. “Find a way for me to kill it. That’s your only job.”
We exited the building and entered the field. A small crew continued to comb the area, giving it a sense of chaotic order as we walked to the nearby strike ship.
“I take it this means we’re heading into trouble,” said Freddie, catching up with me.
“Trouble might be an understatement,” said Abigail.
I smirked, climbing inside the strike ship. “Ain’t that always the case?”
* * *
As soon as we left the continent, Sigmond reported on the status of the Celestial ship.
It was gone, already cleared out of the valley. I would’ve liked to say I was surprised, but there was a reason I’d set our flightpath to the chasm entrance. We couldn’t afford to waste any time. One way or another, that Celestial would try to reach the core and power that slip tunnel back on, which meant there was only one destination that mattered.
We reached the chasm entrance within an hour, our thrusters at max burn. Times like this, I wished we could just create a miniature slip tunnel from one side of the planet to the next, saving us the travel time to get here, but it couldn’t be helped. We were going as fast as we could.
The descent into the ground was long and tense. I could feel the discomfort in the air as the anticipation of the fight built upon itself. Abigail, Freddie, and I had been through our share of fights, but we’d never taken on something like this. Hell, I still didn’t even know what this was, besides the glimpse I’d seen in the beta dome—a floating white figure, most of its features obscured. It had only appeared for a few seconds, but what I’d witnessed had turned my stomach. How could something so strange come from humans?
The idea of us sharing any connection, however distant, sent a flush down my neck.
We passed Sigmond’s drones inside the chasm, each one acting as a signal repeater. They were permanent fixtures in this place now, at least until we established something better. They allowed the clean-up drones in the core to do their work, clearing the debris from the Eternals’ space station and the decimated cityscape inside the core. They’d be at this for months, I’d been told, but still they made progress each and every day. Always working, never resting.
Right now, however, Sigmond had them scanning the area for any sign of the Celestial’s ship. I’d already assumed it was undetectable, but still, we might get lucky and spot something.
“Any sign of movement yet?” I asked, once we were nearly halfway down.
“I’m afraid not, sir,” said Sigmond.
Abigail shifted in her seat. I could sense her agitation at the impossible task ahead. How were we supposed to kill something we couldn’t see or track, especially down here? It was one thing to fight it on the surface with the assistance of our orbital scans, but this was something else entirely.
“How are we going to find this thing?” asked Freddie, asking the question on all our minds.
I hesitated to give an answer, not entirely certain of what to tell him. Without a means of tracking it, we’d have to do our best to anticipate its actions. Not an easy thing to do when you were dealing with an enemy like this one—faster, stronger, more intelligent, and, of all things, built for stealth.
Still, we had to try.
“Siggy, send every available drone to the engine room. Hold them there until we arrive,” I ordered. I leaned back and glanced at Freddie.
“We’re waiting for him to come to us?” he asked.
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, turning to the dash. “Siggy, one more thing. Tell Bolin to meet us there as soon as he touches down.”
“His team is right behind us, sir,” reported Sigmond.
“Good,” I said, tapping my finger on the armrest. There had to be something else I could do. Something more besides a few extra guns, waiting for the enemy to come to us.
I cursed under my breath, then sighed as I went over the one and only fight I’d had with the Celestial. Nearly every attack we’d sent its way had gone straight through its body—all except for one. Even still, I had no idea why. Was its phasing ability limited to a certain amount of time? Was it only capable of phasing while sitting still? No, that couldn’t be right. The orbital footage had showed it invisibly moving across the ground. So, what was it? What was I missing?
I tapped my comm and leaned back in my seat. “It’s been a while. Patch me through to Al, Siggy. Let’s see if he’s got something for us yet.”
“Hold please, sir,” replied the Cognitive.
A few seconds later, I heard the Constable clear his throat. “Captain? I was about to give you a call. Good timing.”
“Did you find something?” asked Freddie.
“As a matter of fact,” began Alphonse.
“We certainly did,” interrupted Dressler.
“Hey, that was my line,” said Alphonse.
She ignored him. “Captain, you will be pleased to know that the blood analysis has concluded. The results are quite interesting, I must admit.”
“What did you find?” I asked.
“The entity is certainly related, however distantly, to both Eternals and humans. However, there are several key variants, with multiple markers being similar or in some cases identical to others found in other species, such as those in the different domes. The sequencing is precise and, I b
elieve, intentional in its design. This is not a natural creature.”
“I don’t care about any of that,” I said, a little less polite than I’d intended. “Tell me how to kill the damned thing.”
“We still don’t have the answer to that,” admitted Alphonse. “We need to run a new battery of tests before we can determine anything further. We’ll need to explore how the observed abilities are performed on a cellular level.”
“You mean you don’t have anything yet?” asked Abby.
I glanced at her, noticing the frustrated look in her eyes. “How long do you need?” I asked, giving her a gentle nod.
“An hour,” informed Dressler. “Perhaps more.”
We’d be at the core in thirty minutes, according to the holo. From there, only another ten to reach the atrium. We’d be cutting it close, and even then, there was no guarantee we could stop it from getting to the engine room. “We need a weakness, godsdammit,” I said, not bothering to hide my frustration. “Don’t you have anything we can use?”
“Not from the blood,” said Alphonse.
“But?” I asked, sensing there was more to his thought.
A short pause. “Well,” he continued, “based on what we’ve observed of this creature, it seems highly specialized, like it was built for stealth.”
“It’s probably a scout,” I said.
“My thought, exactly,” said Alphonse. “That would explain why it was alone, probably sent to observe the Eternals’ space station. For all any of us know, it may have been waiting for its allies to arrive. The ship we saw in the field was certainly no warship. It was small and sleek, built for speed and maneuverability.”
“What’s your point, Al?” I asked.
“Specialization requires sacrifice in other areas, other strengths,” he explained. “A military unit that focuses on protection will often sacrifice its speed to achieve the desired goal. The opposite is true as well. We know there are many different kinds of Celestials, based on what Leif has told us, but we’ve never had the chance to observe or catalogue them, so we don’t know the exact specifications.” He let the thought linger before continuing, giving us a moment to process it. “You’ll recall, I’m sure, how a single bullet was enough to penetrate its flesh?”