David looked at me. His eyes were wide but his face set, determination warring with fear for my life. I met his gaze and tilted my head down and to the left—a clear “no”.
“Fuck you, asshole,” David replied over the feed.
“Fair enough. Perhaps the President will change your mind.” I heard the gun cock. I wish I could say I didn’t flinch. I had come so close to death so many times before that it should have been old hat by now. I took a breath and waited. The sounds of the ship and the sounds of the radio faded. My vision faded until I couldn’t see anything but David’s face.
The bang was louder than I thought it would be.
I fell, my ears ringing. I was surprised that I didn’t feel any pain. I took another breath and waited for the end. It didn’t come.
I pushed myself to my elbows and saw the President wrestling with Proctor. It wasn’t a fair fight. We were both already injured and she was a slight woman. From the way they were wrestling, it looked like she was reaching for his gun. I thought about running to her. Two against one was decent odds, even if the two were women with little fighting experience. I knew that the moment I stood up that Cady would put a bullet through me.
The President managed to get the upper hand for a moment. Her fingers grazed the grip of the gun and she almost had it until Proctor butted her in the head. She fell back, blood streaming from her nose. Proctor raised the gun and she rushed him, smacking the arm holding the gun out of the way and grabbing his wrist. She twisted and slammed his hand against a metal panel. He dropped the gun to the floor with a clatter and she reached to scoop it up. Before she could close her fingers around the pistol there was another deafening shot.
When my hearing cleared I heard crying but it wasn’t mine. I pushed myself off the ground and was surprised to see no blood. Cady stood with his mouth open, the end of his rifle smoking. Proctor was picking himself up and dusting his suit off, swearing. He picked up the gun. Several feet away from me lay the President, her hands on her belly, putting pressure on a gaping wound. Blood streamed from it, adding to an ever-growing pool on the metal floor.
The sight of the young woman bleeding spurred me to my feet. I scrambled up and ran to her, shoes skidding on the floor as I slipped in the blood. The wound was bad. I felt the wetness of an exit wound with my fingers as I lifted her off the ground. Her breathing was coming quick, but her breaths were hoarse.
“I…I never meant to…” I could hear Cady stutter somewhere behind me. Proctor gripped his pistol and swung it across his face, knocking the younger man to the floor. He was smart enough to stay down.
“Get a fucking medical team in here!” Proctor called. To me, he said, “Put pressure on the wound.” I could barely hear him.
“Why the hell did you do that?” I asked the President.
“You matter,” she gasped.
“No, I don’t—“ I stopped talking as the President grabbed my wrists.
“You…you have to understand—“ She paused to swallow and wet her lips. “You are so much more than you think you are. You are the one who will save our people.”
“No, I’m not.” My voice broke. She was dying, and I knew it.
“You are. You are the only one who can unite our peoples. Look at the good you have done.” She gestured to the ship. “You are the one who commands respect with humans and aliens alike. You are the one who has brought us a chance at life.” The sentences were coming more slowly now and I could hear her breathing getting more ragged.
“They won’t listen to me.” Wetness rolled down my cheeks, the tears joining the blood on the floor.
“You’re—you’re fooling yourself. Ka’thak doesn’t care about a President. Humanity cannot be led by the leader of one nation alone. If you didn’t matter, why are they standing there?” She gestured towards the screen but it had gone to static. Proctor had cut the feed. “You have to finish the job, Alex. You have to make sure that I haven’t died in vain.”
I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out.
“Thank you.” Her voice was so faint now I had to bend to listen. “I’m sorry.” I felt the breath leave her body and lay her back to the floor. As I turned back towards Proctor and Cady I felt someone grab my arm. Before I could react, Proctor hauled me to my feet and had the pistol held to my temple.
A team of medics ran through the door and dropped to their knees in front of the President’s body. No matter what they did, they would be too late. I heard them start compressions and a cold blanket of fear settled over me.
Jackson wasn’t coming. He was doing what he should be doing. It was more important to ground the ship. If that meant that I had to die, so be it.
33
Jackson
I froze. Just before Proctor cut off the feed I heard the shot and saw Alex’s body fall to the floor. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to fly past the blast doors and run to Alex. Flashes of her laying on the floor, a bullet put through her head. I opened and closed my grip around my sidearm, the motion providing me occupation like a horse champing at the bit.
Kuru spoke up. “I know that you want to go to her, David. I want to go to her too. We can’t.”
Tilka coughed. “She’s gone, my friend.”
I barely heard him. Blood pounded in my ears. I think I now understood the rage Alexandra must have felt when she watched Turuk about to kill me.
“David,” he spoke again. “You will dishonor her memory if you get yourself killed.”
“Stay here, and your Commander Oladeru’s men will do the job. We cannot get to her anyway, not with his men outside.” Kuru turned from the console to put a hand on my shoulder. She dug her claws into the fabric of my shirt. A subtle but clear warning that she would keep me here if necessary. The seconds felt like an eternity.
“Please,” I murmured. “Let me go.”
I think it was the softness of my voice that surprised her. She loosened her grip and I broke free from it. “Can the two of you handle this?”
“Jackson,” Tilka insisted.
“They built this ship just like yours. Ours,” I said. “Which means I can slip past the soldiers outside via the ducts, right?”
Tilka hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.
I gave him one last look and punched the duct cover open. It was a narrow space, but I was a determined man. Soon enough I’d slipped past where I figured Proctor’s men would be and peered out through a vent into an empty hall.
I stepped down into the corridor and took stock of my weapons. One sidearm, with a full clip. One beam rifle. One beam handgun. The armor I had on would do a decent job of keeping me alive if I went up against a shot to the chest but if there were too many men I’d be meat on the floor before I made it to the bridge.
I smiled as I slipped past the sparse number of guards in the halls. It seemed to me counterintuitive to have so few people roaming the halls but I suppose the hostage situation must have given Proctor and Cady a false sense of security. I took advantage of a maintenance hallway to shortcut to the bridge. On my way, I passed a room with three chairs strewn across the floor. Toppled next to them were two video cameras. I shuddered. I didn’t want to know what freaky shit some of Proctor’s guys were into but they had too much time on their hands if they were getting it on right before a launch.
The first exit from the maintenance tunnel popped me out near the mess. I could hear the chatter of men and women as they argued what to do about the situation. Then I heard officers shouting and the clatter of trays being dropped to the floor. Before I could be seen by any of the soldiers running towards the engine room I crammed myself back into the maintenance tunnel. Time to move on, then.
I had to check two more doors before I finally hit on the right one. There were four guards posted to the door. Two with rifles, two without. Shitty odds on a good day. Even if I managed to take one of them down, the other three would have me ripped open before I could turn around. There was a chair next to the door, presumably for one of t
he men to take a break. I debated whether or not I could grab it and use it as a shield, but I shook my head, dismissing the idea.
Strategy warred with the urge to blow into the room with guns blazing. I knew that every second I wasted figuring out how to get past the men was another second that Alex could be bleeding out on the floor. I took a step back into the corridor and took a deep breath. I walked myself down the corridor in my mind and envisioned the environment. I knew that the door would be secured by hydraulics but it could be released by a panel on the side of the door. The door I was standing behind was large and heavy. Decent cover until I had to move. Pipes ran along the wall horizontally, ferrying different liquids and gasses necessary for the ship’s function to their destinations.
I stopped. Pipes. I remembered that once on the alien ship there was a hole in one of the pipes. Another recruit and I were helping to perform some routine maintenance and he suddenly pushed me to the floor. It took me a few seconds to figure it out but once I heard the whistle I knew. The soldier I was working with told me to keep low to the ground as he pulled an expandable baton from his work belt. We crawled along the floor together as he held the baton aloft and suddenly it fell to the floor with a “clink”. The leak was there.
I counted the pipes and I smiled. Right behind Proctor’s guards was a pipe that vented steam from the heat of the engine room. If I could put a bullet through that pipe at the right point I would have a chance to make it onto the bridge. I checked my weapons. The rifle was too bulky for close quarters but the beam pistol and my sidearm might work. I decided to lead with the sidearm. It would be less noticeable for a moment where the shot was coming from and was better for punching through the pipe’s wall.
Now or never, I guess. I thought to myself. I leaned around the steel door and fired off a shot. Just as before, the puncture in the pipe let loose a screaming jet of hot steam. I watched as one of the guards turned towards the sound. The other guards looked around wildly for where the shot had originated and I advanced past the door as the inevitable happened. The man who was searching for the sound instead of for the shooter stopped mid-step and blinked. He reached down to his torso and felt with his hands for a wound. His face froze in an expression of surprise as his torso separated from his legs and the upper half of his body slid to the floor, intestines spilling as his torso rolled. I holstered my sidearm and took the opportunity the distraction provided to put two rounds from my beam pistol into the other two guards. They dropped.
“Fuck!” the last of the men screamed. By the time he turned and realized that I had dispatched his comrades I had closed the distance between the two of us and had leveled my weapon at his head.
“Drop it,” I demanded. He put his hands in the air and dropped his gun. “The rifle too, nice and slow.” He unhooked the rifle from his torso and put it on the ground. I kicked both guns away and pushed him to his knees, facing away from me. “Open the door, motherfucker.”
“Fuck you,” the man spat. I sighed.
“Listen, asshole,” I growled. “You’re standing between me and someone I care about very, very much. Open the fucking door. The faster you do it the faster we’ll be done.”
“What you can do to me is nothing compared to what Proctor will do if I’m found helping the enemy.”
I turned my head in exasperation and shot him in the leg. He screamed again. He sounded like a dying rabbit.
“Door,” I yelled, wrenching an arm up towards the keypad. The man was crying now, wet snuffles coming from him as he keyed in a combination. The door opened with a whoosh and I smashed my gun into the back of his head before he could realize it. As he slumped to the floor, unconscious, I charged through the door—then skidded to a halt as I took in the scene.
Cady stood with his rifle leveled at my head. The President lay in a heap on the floor, a puddle of blood staining her clothing and still spreading. Proctor was standing with Alex in front of him, one hand pulling the collar of her shirt tight, the other one with a pistol pressed to the back of her head.
34
Alexandra
Jackson stood in front of me, alone. He was covered in blood and I wondered for a moment if he was hurt until I realized that the blood wasn’t his. Cady turned to level his rifle at Jackson, the muzzle shaking slightly.
“Walk forward,” Proctor told me. When I hesitated, he shoved me. “Move!” Jackson’s eyes went wide and he raised his hands, pointing his gun upwards. “Weapons down, Lt. Colonel. All of them.”
“All right, all right. Let’s all just calm down,” Jackson replied. He unclipped his rifle from himself and lay it on the floor. Next came the beam pistol. He paused for a moment before unholstering his sidearm and putting it on the ground with his other weapons.
“Knife, Mr. Jackson. Come now, I’m not stupid, you know that.” Proctor tightened his grip around my collar and I coughed as the fabric restricted my airway even more. Jackson’s lips tightened and he unhooked his knife from his uniform and placed it on the ground where it joined his firearms. I noticed that he only dropped the larger of the two knives I knew he carried. I hoped against hope that he had the other one on him somewhere.
“Kick them away,” Cady instructed. Jackson did so, sliding the weapons to his right.
“Smart man,” Proctor said. “First you will radio the forces outside my ship and tell them to halt their approach. I told them to keep five hundred meters away and it’s very frustrating to me that they’ve broken that perimeter. Then you will get in contact with your people in my engine room and command them to stop tampering with my engines.”
Jackson didn’t say anything, he just kept his eyes locked on mine, looking for instructions. I nodded, coughing hard as my throat caught on the fabric. Proctor twisted his grip even tighter.
“No moving, Doctor,” he said softly near my ear. I shuddered. The proximity of having this disgusting person so close to me set every hair on the back of my neck standing on end. He moved his head around mine to address Jackson. “Your radio, Lt. Colonel.”
Jackson nodded and pulled his earpiece into his ear. He pressed the button a couple of times and shook his head.
“Problem?” Cady called.
“Fucking reception’s cut out,” Jackson replied. He shook the radio and struck his palm against it a couple of times, showing the two men exactly what was wrong. “Look, give me a minute, I’ll get it working.”
“I don’t have a minute,” Proctor said, annoyance plain in his voice. Jackson kept glancing at me, then away. No, not away. Down? He was glancing at me and down to his left and I saw his right-hand jerk upwards while he kept his left busy with his radio. I knew him well enough by now to get the message. I only hoped that we could get the timing right. I gathered the chain dangling between my wrists between my fingers and waited.
“I think I got it going,” Jackson called to the two men. “Just let me…” He trailed off and I saw him reach behind his back and pull his combat knife. With a roar, he rushed straight at Cady and threw the knife at him. Cady jumped and raised his rifle to block the blade. It pinged against the gun’s barrel and flew over Cady’s head, but the distraction was enough. Jackson had closed the distance between the two of them and slammed into the security chief, knocking them both to the ground.
As soon as I saw the two men connect, I pivoted and swung my arms into Proctor’s outstretched arm, letting the chain of the handcuffs swing close to his face. The force of the blow caused his hand to reflexively open and the pistol dropped to the ground. Before he could recover, I grabbed his head behind his neck and drove my knee into his stomach as hard as I could.
Proctor went down, wheezing and gasping for air. I scooped the gun off the ground and kicked him in the stomach again, flipping him over and aiming the muzzle at him. His glasses had flown off his face but he could see the weapon well enough and put his hands up. Behind me, I could hear the scuffles and grunts of the two men fighting.
“You got that, Jackson?” I inquired, turnin
g slightly to see Jackson clicking a set of handcuffs onto Cady.
“I think so, Doc.” His breathing sounded heavy. “Stop fucking struggling, dickhead, or I’ll shoot you myself.”
His captive found his way into compliance. Jackson pulled Cady to his feet and shoved him down next to Proctor, pointing his rifle at both men. I whirled around at the sound of boot heels clicking against the metal decking of the ship but when I turned I found Kuru and Tilka standing at the entrance to the bridge.
“It would seem you have the situation in hand,” Kuru stated, striding forward to take a look at the two men. Cady visibly shrank back. Tilka grinned. He was limping, likely due to the hastily bound wound on his leg. The bandage was just starting to show the smallest signs of bleeding through. His grin faltered when he saw the President’s body, the medical team long having since departed when they realized the woman was dead. The two aliens and their human counterpart turned to me.
“This is your party, Alex.” Jackson put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “What do you want us to do with them?”
I looked down at Proctor and Cady, the two men who had taken away so much from so many. Men who were responsible for the deaths of dozens, who had shot a young woman doing her best to lead her people out of darkness, in cold blood. I thought of the men and women on this ship they had convinced to sacrifice their principles for a false promise of prosperity. They deserved nothing. There could not be mercy for them in this life or any other.
I turned to Tilka and Kuru. “These are the men who are responsible for the deaths of your brothers and sisters, though they were too cowardly to hold the weapons themselves. They deserve whatever punishment you deem fit for them.” I felt no passion in my declaration, no anger. Just simple and cold calculation.
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