Unreconciled

by W. Michael Gear

“We’ve got to go get them.” Kylee’s gaze had gone vacant. Her eyes seeming to enlarge.

  Yeah, she was sharing the same images Talina was.

  “What about the rest of Batuhan’s people?” Tamil asked, a look of desperation in his dark eyes.

  Kylee—in a voice thinner than wire—said, “Sorry. They had their chance. Nothing we can do for them now.”

  “What does that mean?” Shyanne’s gaze flicked from face to face.

  “On Donovan, stupidity is a death sentence,” Talina told her. “Let’s tell Madison what’s coming down and get packed.”

  “Not me,” Shyanne cried, on the verge of tears. “I’ll die before I go back there.”

  “Me, too,” Tamil said in a hoarse whisper.

  From the look in Kylee’s eyes, she was more than ready to help them along.

  “We’ll take care of you until this is over,” Chaco said.

  “Let’s beat feet.” Talina turned, images of deep forest playing in her head. Four people, without armor, in unfamiliar territory. And just because they were among the best on the planet, this was still Donovan.

  They didn’t have much time.

  54

  When Dek appeared on the landing pad with his rifle and packed war bag Talina demanded, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Packing my shit to go along. What do you think I’m doing?”

  “Hey, soft meat, the last thing I need is a newbie Skull stumbling around in the forest and turning himself into supper for the nearest sidewinder.”

  “The last thing you need is to set down somewhere in the forest, only to have good old Batuhan stumble over the airtruck. Who guards it while you search? Or did I miss something?”

  A sliver of smile bent Talina’s lips. “Bound and determined to get your ass in a sling, huh? Okay, get your gear on board.”

  As Dek turned away, he heard Chaco say, “You sure that’s a good idea? He’s a solid guy, got potential, but you’re going to get him killed.”

  Dek turned back. “You just keep an eye on Shyanne and Tamil. Maybe they’re really refugees. Maybe not. But you figure that after what they’ve been through, what they’ve done, they’re still Unreconciled. Probably not as soft and cuddly as they are trying to appear. Think: Broken goods.”

  “Gotcha.” Chaco stuck out a hand. “Hey, Dek. You make it through this? You gotta place out here with us. You understand?”

  “Thanks, Chaco.”

  He placed a foot in the step up to the airtruck and noticed Talina’s evaluative stare. “What?”

  She arched a slim eyebrow. “Must have been some day down in the canyon fixing that pump.”

  “Turned out to be a little more complicated than Chaco thought. We got it working, why?”

  She rolled her lips between her teeth, her gaze going alien on him. “Nothing. Get aboard.”

  He slung his pack onto the deck, climbed in, and racked the Holland & Holland next to Talina’s service rifle. He made sure he had his bullets and a spare powerpack for the gun in his web gear.

  Kylee was fastening the straps on a backpack, glanced sidelong at him. “Told you she liked you.”

  “You see different things than I do.”

  “Yep.” She didn’t look up. “You might want to move out of the doorway.”

  “Huh? Why, I—”

  Kylee reached out, grabbed him by the web gear, and jerked him sideways. Damn near yanked him off his feet.

  As Dek struggled for balance, something huge, flashing yellow and black, scrambled through the space he’d occupied. The thing blocked the light, filled the doorway. The sound of claws could be heard as they sought purchase on the sialon deck.

  Dek planted a foot, whirled to stare at the creature that now took up way too much of the compartment. Big, fully two meters at the shoulders, the beast swung its muzzle to within inches of Dek’s nose.

  A great triangular head filled Dek’s vision, and he had to look from eye to eye to eye, so widely were they spaced across the top of the monster’s head. Black, gleaming, they seemed to see right through to Dek’s bones. Patterns of violet, mauve, and orange replaced the yellow and black designs running over the beast’s hide.

  “Wha . . . ? What?” Dek staggered backward, slammed into the duraplast wall. Knees gone weak, his heart now hammered so hard it might burst his chest. He fought to get a breath.

  A yip of terror escaped his throat as a membrane, like an unfolding sail, ringed the creature’s neck and began flashing colors so brilliant they almost hurt the eyes.

  Dek opened his mouth in the attempt to cry out. A blur shot from the beast’s mouth. Like a hard leather rod, it jetted past Dek’s lips, flicked over his tongue and bumped off his molars. The force of his reaction banged the back of his head off the wall. As the leathery thing glanced off Dek’s soft palate, his gag reflex tried to bend him double.

  An overpowering taste—like concentrated peppermint extract—flooded his mouth. Saliva began to pump. Paralyzed, he stared across the great triangular head into the top eye. It seemed to have expanded, filling Derek Taglioni’s entire universe.

  “Flute!” Kylee’s barked command barely penetrated Dek’s fugue. “Back off! Leave him alone.”

  Just as quickly, the tongue was gone. Somehow Dek kept from collapsing, managed to lock his knees, back braced against the airtruck’s cargo bay.

  For long seconds he fought to fill his lungs, to keep from throwing up.

  “They don’t know how rude humans find that,” Talina muttered from the wheel where she was checking the battery indicator and fans.

  “What the hell?” Dek squeaked in terror as he gaped at the . . . the . . . what? Dinosaur? Dragon? Or . . .

  “This is Flute,” Kylee told him. “He’s a quetzal. Don’t mind the French kiss thing. It’s how they say hello.”

  A quetzal? Here?

  Dek gaped at the creature in rapt horror. Quetzals ate people. He could well imagine, looking as he was at that big mouth filled with wicked serrations that served as teeth. They ran from one side of the wide triangular jaw to the other.

  He wanted to spit the terrible taste out. His mouth kept watering.

  “You sure you want Flute along?” Talina asked. “This is last call for him to get off.”

  Kylee stepped over, placed a hand on the beast’s . . . um, shoulder? With her other hand, she pointed toward the rear of the compartment. “You better go lie down. And don’t look out the windows. When Rocket flew, he almost went catatonic.”

  Flute flashed a riot of orange and sky-blue; the intricate designs ran down his hide as if flowing. That sail-like collar had deflated flush with the beast’s neck. Then, with remarkable agility for a creature that large, it curled itself along the floor, conforming to the back bench.

  “Shit on a shoe,” Dek wheezed. “It’s going with us?”

  Kylee fixed her alien-blue gaze on him. “That’s my mom and dad out there in the forest being chased by cannibals. Get it? And Flute likes Mom.”

  Dek jumped as the fans spun up, Talina at the wheel. Still shaking—and as scared as he’d ever been—he stepped to the door, gave Chaco and the cannibals a farewell wave, and slammed it before anything else could leap in with him.

  Talina was on the radio. “Two Spot? Got trouble at Tyson. If we can believe the source, Carson is dead, and Kalico, Dya, Talbot, and Muldare are hiding out in the forest. I’m heading that way from Briggs. I’ll let you know what’s up as we get closer.”

  “Roger that. But, Tal, we’re on lockdown. Got a quetzal. At least one is in the compound. Got another five outside the fence trying to get in.”

  “Shit. Figures. I’ll send an update as soon as I know anything.”

  “Roger that. We get this resolved, we’ll come on the run.”

  It hit Dek that everything had happened so fast. N
ow, as they soared out over the forest, it was with the realization that he was flying out to confront the Irredenta, to attempt the rescue of Supervisor Aguila and her party, accompanied by a quetzal-infected teenager and Talina Perez. And he was locked in a small compartment with a man-eating monster. One that—of all things—had stuck its tongue into Dek’s mouth. What part of this wasn’t insane?

  Oh, Derek. You were the one who wanted to get a feeling for the real Donovan.

  Which left him shuddering. If this turned out wrong, if the quetzal didn’t eat him, it would be the Irredenta who’d be picking his bones clean.

  Hard to believe that he’d considered that nightmare safely left behind the day he’d shuttled out of Ashanti.

  55

  A quetzal in the compound? Five more trying to get in? The desire to wheel around, fly full-throttle for PA, tore at Talina’s soul. She should be there. No one knew how to hunt quetzals like she did.

  Down in her gut, Demon hissed, “Got you, didn’t we?”

  “Yeah? Bet there’s going to be nothing but steaks and leather by nightfall, you creepy little shit.”

  Talina took her heading for Tyson. As much as she yearned to head for PA, Kalico, Dya, and Talbot needed her. First hand, she knew the sense of desperation that came from being lost in the forest.

  “So, from Two Spot’s report, it was six of them. Three on the Mine Gate, three from the shuttle field.” Talina shot a glance at Kylee. “That’s a whole new tactic. And in the middle of the day.”

  “Whitey really hates you, huh?” Kylee gave Talina an evaluative blue-eyed stare.

  “Yeah, lucky me.”

  Demon tried to claw at her stomach, hissing in rage.

  Piece of shit.

  Talina checked her compass and airspeed. Below her the wild Donovanian terrain unfolded and flowed. The airtruck responded instantly to the touch. The fans and gimbals were all tight, within tolerance. Ungainly as the airtruck looked, it handled like a dream, a reassuring feeling after all of these years. Hard to believe that the power indicator really meant what it said. Reliable. So good that she could partially ignore that constant and nagging worry about what to do if they went down. How damn long had it been since she could fly without fear?

  Dek was scrunched in the corner of the cab, back to the door. He kept staring in disbelief at Flute. The look on his face was priceless: Like the guy just knew the terrified quetzal was going leap across the cargo box and eat him.

  Not a chance given that Flute was flashing the bright yellow-and-black patterns of terror mixed with teal anxiety spots in addition to glowing way down in the infrared.

  Quetzals really hated to fly. That he’d dared it at all was mark of the beast’s affection for Kylee and perhaps Dya. Or—who knew?—it was some other quetzal experiment cooked up by his lineage.

  Kylee stepped up to the dash beside Talina, her gaze fixed on the landscape. In a voice barely above a whisper, she said, “He’s not ready, you know.”

  “Flute? Then why’d you insist he come along?”

  “I mean Dek.”

  “He wanted a taste of Donovan. As long as he just stays in the airtruck, keeps it out of the cannibals’ hands, he’ll be all right.”

  “You’re not setting us down at Tyson, so that means we’re setting down in the forest. You’ve got a place in mind?”

  “Ridgetop, a couple of kilometers north and above. Mostly basalt bedrock. If Dek locks the doors, shoots anything that tries to force its way in, he’ll be all right. And I’ll set the radio on the PA frequency before we go. If something happens, Shig can have Manny Bateman run the shuttle out to pick him up after they mop up this quetzal trouble.”

  Kylee shrugged.

  Talina shot Kylee a questioning look. “Did he shoot that fastbreak this morning, or did you?”

  “He did. He listens well, but he’s still weak from being on that ship. I get what you see in him. With the right luck, he might make it. Really different than Cap, though. This one’s more centered. If Donovan doesn’t kill him, he could be a full partner.”

  “Got it all figured out, huh?”

  “He’s a world of improvement over Bucky Berkholtz.”

  “There’s times I wish you didn’t have so much of me in you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “And why’s that, kid?”

  Kylee flipped her hair back, grinned. “Because every time I want to lose it, want to fucking scream, and cry, and beat the crap out of Tip, or unload all my frustrations on Madison, you’re there. Down deep. It’s like having a big sister inside my head. At first, I hated it. Really, really, hated it. Now I’m the most thankful girl on the planet.”

  “Glad to be of service. Having you inside me . . . well, it’s a balance. Keeps me on track with all these asshole quetzals running around inside my skull.”

  Kylee nodded, her worried gaze fixing on the horizon. “Think Mom’s okay?”

  “Don’t know, kid. Nobody in their right mind wants to take a chance on the forest, not without a full set of armor and tech. If it was anybody but your mom and dad, I’d say write it off. And as good as your mom is, Talbot’s even better. Maybe as good as anyone on the planet when it comes to staying alive.”

  “He’s not us,” Kylee countered, referring to the quetzal in their blood. “And we’ve got Flute.”

  “Which is why we’ll find them.”

  “You think this lockdown could be Whitey?”

  “Bet on it. That snot-sucker’s still ahead of me. Killed a prospector last month. Old Chin Hua Mao. As good a veteran Wild One as you’ll find in the bush. Somehow Whitey, or of one of his lineage, got old Chin by surprise while he was working his claim in the Blood Mountains.”

  “There,” Kylee pointed. Having spotted Tyson in the distance.

  Talina keyed the radio. “Kalico? Mark? Dya? Do you read? Come in. Kalico? Mark? Dya? If you can—”

  “Got ya, Tal,” Kalico’s voice came faintly through the receiver. “We’re about a half klick west of Tyson, moving slowly. Where are you?”

  “Coming in from the east in the airtruck. Anyplace I can set down?”

  “Negative on that. We’re on the floodplain below the basalt. Trees are four hundred meters tall if they’re an inch. We’ll have to find someplace open enough you can drop down.”

  “What’s your situation? Who’s with you?”

  Beside her, Kylee went as tight as a coiled spring.

  “Me, Talbot, Dya, and Muldare are still out here. We think Carson’s dead and the Unreconciled have his weapon. Consider Tyson hostile. Repeat, Tyson is hostile. You copy that?”

  “Roger that.” Talina keyed the mic again, calling, “Two Spot, you get that relay?”

  “Affirmative.”

  Talina circled wide of Tyson Station, peering down through the windscreen as she did. It was to see a handful of people watching from the domes, some waving her in. As the angle changed, she spotted a few more. Not more than seven visible in the whole compound.

  “What do you think?” Kylee asked as they curled around to the west. A person need only look down on the vegetation to know where the deep forest lay and where shallow bedrock restricted the size of the trees.

  Talina keyed the mic. “Supervisor? If my calculations are correct, we should be right above you. Trees are definitely too thick to attempt a descent here. Canopy looks like it’s woven as tight as a blanket.”

  Talbot’s voice came through. “You find a safe place to put down. We’ll beat feet to wherever you are.”

  Talina drifted them north, searching. There had to be a hole, something with a rocky outcrop where the roots hadn’t taken hold. The last thing they needed was to set down and have roots wind themselves around the fan blades.

  And there, she saw it. An opening in the canopy. One of the weird lime-green trees with those monstrous p
addle-shaped branches. It stood like an isolate out in the center, but if Talina could slide down along the margin of the branches, she could drop them at the edge of the root zone.

  “Kalico?” Tal keyed the mic. “We’re maybe a kilometer to the north and west. Got a hole. We’re going to ground.”

  “Roger that. Got a reading on my signal?”

  “Affirmative.” Talina plotted the fix, glanced at her compass. “We’re north, twenty-five degrees west. Figure that we’ll meet you halfway. After we’re all loaded, it’ll be three hours to supper and beer at Briggs’ place.”

  “Best news we’ve heard all day. Got any water? Repeat: We need water.”

  “We’ll bring some.” Talina smiled at that, gave Kylee a reassuring wink, and began her descent. She dropped the airtruck down just out of reach of the waving branches. As she did, the chabacho and aquajade leaves kept turning her way, pulling back from the downdraft created by the fans.

  Even the vines retreated, and here and there, some forest creature vanished into the darkness, fleeing in panic as the airtruck roared past.

  “Kylee, grab a couple of water bottles. Dek, you lock the door after the last of us is out. I’m putting us on the edge of the root mat. If you see them creeping toward the airtruck, you call me ASAP on the radio. I’ll beat feet back and lift us off before they can latch hold of the frame or tangle in the fans.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to just take the controls and hover?”

  “You can fly this thing?”

  Taglioni shrugged. “It’s been a while. Looks like standard controls. Nothing different from my old Beta Falcon.”

  Talina grinned as she set them softly on the dark-gray soil just beyond the edge of the roots. “My, you’re just one surprise after another, aren’t you? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “You never asked.” He was watching out the side window, staring at the weird lime-green tree where it stood maybe fifty meters away in the center of the clearing. “What is that thing? You got a name for it?”

  Tal glanced, noticed the gigantic leaves—somehow reminding her of the woven handheld palm fans of her youth—had turned their way. Reacted to their descent.