“You’ll never kill them with that!” Mallory told him.
She was right, but he had chosen his equipment carefully. The small grenades he had taken from the embassy’s supply could be used in place of the bullets currently in the clip. He ejected it, changed out the ammunition, and snapped it back into place.
Unfortunately, using explosives would diminish the weapon’s precision. Aware of this weakness, he was waiting for the animals to get closer before firing. He’d miss if he tried to hit them from too far away. If he waited too long, though, he would die with them. He concentrated and listed his next steps:
Right foot forward. Arms slightly bent.
The carnivores drove at them, teeth bared, pounding the ground like the skin of a drum.
Breathe in. Aim. Breathe out halfway. Fire.
He pulled the trigger four times. The predators would be on them in an instant. The grenades finally detonated and scattered blood and viscera for dozens of yards. Convinced it was over, Laorcq got ready to get back in the truck, but then Torg sounded the alarm.
“Behind you!” he cried, while his implanted navcom caused Mallory and Laorcq’s to blink red.
A cross between a reptile and a centipede as tall as a horse threw itself on the scarred man. This nightmarish dragon moved with stunning speed, its yellow and blue skin rolling over its knotted muscles. It was already too close for Laorcq to be able to use the explosive projectiles. With dread, he thought his goose was finally cooked.
Adrenaline was flooding into his veins when he was shocked to see Torg plant himself in front of the giant lizard advancing quickly on him. The cybrid dodged at the last moment, then pivoted to the left, wrapped his arm around its neck, and put it on the ground with a brutal twist.
The strange dragon howled and struggled, its red eyes burning with rage. Before it could free itself, Laorcq ran to the truck and took out another pistol. He put the barrel against the reptile’s head and pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced the monster’s brain. It froze suddenly and died before hitting the ground.
Without a glance at the corpse, the cybrid calmly climbed back into the armored truck.
Once they were back on the road, Mallory shouted at Laorcq, “What was that about? Is that really the only way of disposing of pests? If not for Torg, you would have finished your career as a steak tartare.”
“You’re worried about me?” he replied with a smirk. “You threatened to throw me out the Sirgan’s airlock not long ago.”
On the pilot’s arms, the roses and cherry blossoms closed abruptly. Awkwardly, she tried to improvise, “Not really, but…”
“Let it go,” Laorcq said. “We have company again.”
Two humanoid mutants were trying to kill each other with their teeth and claws in the middle of the road. Absorbed in their battle, they weren’t paying any attention to the vehicle. Mallory was captivated in spite of herself. As a result, she barely noticed that Laorcq had taken his foot off the accelerator as they approached.
One of the creatures was tall and flexible, with overly long limbs. Its white skin was marbled with red spots that oozed pus. An enormous mouth stretching from sternum to groin allowed it to draw its prey directly into its abdomen.
The other one, short and squat, had a similar skin color and suppurating wounds. From its small trunk, it projected yellowish liquid onto its opponent, trying to cover its victim completely. Mallory guessed that it was either venom or digestive juices.
Simultaneously fascinated and repulsed, she continued watching the mutants, who were on the verge of disemboweling each other. Suddenly, the fighters realized they weren’t alone. Overtaken by rage, they abandoned their deadly combat and ran to the truck, where they began pulling violently on the door handles.
An old tank had recently fallen apart on the left side of the road. Mallory felt the truck swerve: Laorcq had turned sharply toward the wreck. The vehicle’s new trajectory crushed the spitting humanoid against the rusting carcass. The sound of its flesh being crushed was punctuated by a last viscous jet that escaped the brutally compressed body.
The second creature was still clinging to the other side. Under its sustained assault, the sliding door’s lock was beginning to weaken. With a certain amount of incredulity, Mallory saw Laorcq rise while holding the truck on course with one hand. He pointed to the driver’s seat and ordered, “Take my place! Hurry up!”
“You sure?” she worried.
“Of course! This scrap heap isn’t going to hold it back!”
Doing as she was told, she tried to keep the vehicle going in a straight line. Given that this was the first time she had ever piloted a truck without any assistance, the situation wasn’t really ideal.
I wanted to try driving this in peace and quiet! Not when our lives depend on it!
Behind her, Laorcq was giving instructions to Torg. “On my signal, unlock the door and open it a third of the way. Make sure you stay to the side.”
The pilot remembered that Geekler was lying tied up on the floor. “Put our sawbones safely under the seat, just in case.”
While the cybrid was taking care of the doctor, a series of distinctive clicks told Mallory that Laorcq was checking his weapon.
Apparently satisfied, he cried out: “Now!”
With one eye on the rear-view mirror and the other on the road, Mallory watched the scene unfold.
Torg opened the door. Immediately, the mutant tried to get in. Its thick arm insinuated itself inside, its claws ready to rip flesh. From a face without a mouth or nose, its bloodshot eyes stared at the vehicle’s occupants. Its inability to emit the slightest sound enhanced the humanoid’s strangeness. Laorcq aimed his weapon and put several bullets into its head before it deigned to release the door handle. It finally rolled to the ground, leaving a scarlet trail in the armored truck’s wake.
Hands gripping the steering wheel, Mallory couldn’t shake the image of the crazed but terribly human look on the face of the creature they had left behind. She had a moment of doubt and spoke to Laorcq, “That thing…” she stuttered, at a loss for words. “I mean…”
“I saw it, too: it was kind of human,” he replied. “It’s better if you don’t think about it.”
They continued on their way, burying the cadavers with the dust kicked up by the studded tires. The inevitable finally happened while they were driving through an abandoned village. With a scent of overheated metal, the engine sputtered and finally gave out.
Mallory let the truck roll for another hundred yards. With a last grinding noise from the brakes, the vehicle stopped in the middle of the village, in a wide square bordered by ruined villas.
Spared from the bombing, the place would do for the Sirgan’s short stop. The cybrid picked up Geekler and got out of the truck with him over his shoulder. When she emerged, the pilot found Laorcq taking a last look at the instrument panel. “Nostalgic?” she teased.
He gave her a vague smile before slamming the door shut.
With a hand over his eyes to protect them from the twin suns, he scanned the sky in the direction of the city and the astroport.
Mallory imitated him. Her transport ship was nowhere to be seen, but there was nothing to worry about yet: they were early.
Between two buildings, she saw an island of foliage surrounded by a low wall. Gigantic plants grew there, big enough to produce welcome shade. She called out to her companions. “Guys? Since we could be waiting for a while, we might as well be cool.”
“With pleasure. I had begun to wonder if you had forgotten that I’m a furred being,” groused the cybrid. He adjusted his burden and marched over to bushes.
Suddenly, a whistle rang out, growing louder.
“Take cover!” cried Laorcq.
Mallory felt him grip her arm, forcing her to move faster. Spurred on by danger, they approached the vegetation and the wall.
With a deafening noise, a projectile hit the ground near the abandoned armored truck. The explosion threw the humans and Torg at l
east a dozen yards.
XIII
MURPHY’S LAW
PROPELLED by the destructive blast, Mallory saw the garden rushing toward her. She grazed the concrete wall and continued on. A thick carpet of plants cushioned her fall, without sparing her completely. Stunned, she remained stretched out on the ground. Laorcq landed not far from her.
Much heavier, Torg was simply flattened to the ground, while the burning gust tore Geekler from his grasp. The latter’s head hit the edge of the low wall, and he fell on the other side.
The yapping of firearms brought the pilot back to reality. She opened her eyes to discover that she was in the cybrid’s arms. His wide blue eyes were filled with worry for his charge. She reassured him:
“It’s okay, it was no worse than boxing an Orcant.”
The doctor was lying on the ground, slumped over like a broken dummy. A bit of hairy hide hung from his ear, and blood covered his face. Mallory approached him and saw he was breathing weakly. To help him recover, she untied his bonds and put him into a more comfortable position.
She then found Laorcq, a revolver in his hand, leaning against the wall to shield himself from the bullets destroying the surrounding area. With gestures, he told her to stay under cover. She acquiesced with a nod of her head. Seeing the size of the impacts, the sniper wasn’t using a small caliber weapon.
She crawled over to the scarred man, curiosity overcoming the need for caution. Taking advantage of one of Laorcq’s counterattacks, she took a quick look around. Their old truck had been reduced to debris and a hole from which black smoke poured.
“Well, shit!” she swore. Ten more minutes and we would have been out of the system!” Forced to raise her voice to be heard about the fusillade, she asked Laorcq, “Who wants our skin this badly?”
“A friend of Geekler’s, maybe. Or a new team of mercenaries sent by Kaumann… How the fuck should I know? The only thing that’s certain is that we’re being pelted by some very big guns from the other end of the square. I made a huge mistake leaving the combat suits on the Sirgan.”
“Was I out for long?”
“One or two minutes at most. If your ship doesn’t show up soon, that sniper bastard is going to get us. This garden is wedged between two buildings, so there’s no way to get out of here without being seen.”
Around them, the deadly barrage continued. Mallory glanced at her navcom-bracelet. It was damaged, but still functioning. She activated it and tried to contact her ship. On the third attempt, she finally got a reply.
“Captain? We’re on the way, no worries.”
“Jazz! You brain in a jar! Hurry up! We’re being targeted like clay pigeons at a skeet shooting competition!”
The Natural Intelligence reacted quickly. “I need a visual to evaluate the situation.”
Mallory drew a quick arc in the air with her wrist to extend her navcom beyond the top of the wall for a moment. The device took a panoramic photo of the area and sent it off immediately.
The picture would allow Jazz to land while shielding them behind the body of the transport ship. “I’ll be there in three minutes…”
It seemed like three hours to Mallory. Under the hail of lead, time seemed to stretch to the point of immobility. She had to calm Torg, who was enraged by the lack of a visible enemy. Laorcq ran out of ammunition, and then they were covered by the shadow of the Sirgan. Once on the ground, its loading dock dropped with a great crack. They rushed on board with the doctor clamped under one of the cybrid’s arms like a bundle of laundry.
The pilot was thinking they were finally out of danger when everything accelerated.
An explosive projectile landed near the hold, missing them by a few inches. The hull, designed to withstand the rigors of space, absorbed the shock, but one of the actuators on the hatch was slightly bent by the impact. No matter how hard the mechanism worked to close it, it refused to move, leaving the belly of the ship exposed.
Furious, Mallory screamed, “My ship! That bastard damaged the Sirgan! All of this is because of Lebrane and his dirty schemes! When I get my hands on him, I’m going to crush him to a pulp!”
Torg dropped the doctor and came toward her, “Mallory! I promise you I will rip his arms off one by one, but in the meantime, be careful! One more step and you’d be exposed.”
She realized that her bodyguard was right and forced herself to stifle her anger. One problem after the other. First, let’s get off this crazy planet!
Geekler woke and found himself on the ship’s metal floor. His mind was cloudy, and he had a terrible headache. A black spot floated in his field of vision. Still, he recognized the inside of a ship, and then his eyes fell on a crate.
“The package… The girl changed her mind and delivered it to me,” he rambled. “I should check the condition of the merchandise.”
With his thoughts completely muddled, he crawled toward the large box.
Meanwhile, the unknown shooter blasted the Sirgan. Since he could see that the hatch wasn’t closing, he must have thought, correctly, that he had managed to make life more difficult for his targets.
Struggling to stay out of reach of the bullets, Mallory, like her companions, didn’t see the befuddled doctor reach his goal. Unaware of the Geekler’s plans, she ordered, “Jazz! Forget the hatch and take off! We’ll fix it later!”
He obeyed immediately. With a rumble from the reactors, the Sirgan took them out of the sniper’s range.
Mallory finally noticed that Geekler was busy with the crate. Too late. The doctor’s hand dropped from the encoded lock’s keypad. Next to the keyboard, a small green diode was blinking. The container’s walls fell away like a collapsing house of cards, freeing the contents.
While the ship flew away from the small ruined town, a silhouette appeared at the top of one of the dilapidated buildings. It was Gamor, the ex-police officer and Morsak’s contract killer. Tall and well-muscled, he looked like an athlete. Drops of sweat sparkled on his smooth skull. With a nervous gesture, he wiped them away on his battle suit’s sleeve.
His abrupt movements as he holstered his gun matched the frustration inscribed on his features. He cultivated his reputation for efficiency carefully, and now he had failed lamentably. His pride and the lack of esteem he felt toward his enemies came back to haunt him.
He closed the case in which he had just stored his weapon with a snap. Swearing between his teeth, he picked it up and descended a staircase to the mezzanine. From one step to the next, he recalled the instructions from the encrypted file he had received from Idernax’s CEO.
“Your target is a scientist named Geekler, the recipient of a valuable package. The hauler has gone rogue and should be taken out of the picture as quickly as possible, along with his crew, even if it means killing the doctor. The package is the top priority.”
“Overly greedy haulers my ass!” he grumbled as he came out onto the dusty street.
He continued his thought process: Morsak was careful to keep this information to himself. This is about more than a theft of merchandise.
His clean-shaven face wrinkled in displeasure, and he moved away from the building from which he had been firing. He thought hard: landing a transport ship here! Why? Even the dumbest traffickers would know the cops would show up in five minutes. It’s true that they were able to get away, but what now? The ship will be recognized and its ID broadcast before it can reach another habitable planet.
He stopped trying to figure out what the girl and the scarred man were up to and arrived at his own transportation: A silent two-wheeler, which had allowed him to surveil the armored truck without being noticed.
An idea struck him suddenly. He called the police on the motorcycle’s navcom. After a moment of delay, an Artificial Intelligence, symbolized by a luminous sphere, appeared before his eyes.
“This line is reserved for emergencies. If your call concerns a mutant attack or an Omsyn case, please go to your district’s medical center. You will be charged for this call…”
He gave the coordinates for the firefight and the ID for the Sirgan.
Noticing that the window was open for communication with Earth, he decided to call his employer. Aside from the delay caused by the distance, Morsak picked up almost immediately. “Gamor! I was hoping to hear from you!”
The contracted killer got straight to the point. “I haven’t completed my assignment. I underestimated the haulers’ capabilities.”
The response was long in coming. Despite the mediocre quality of the connection, the iciness in Morsak’s voice was clear. “I am extremely disappointed. I didn’t think they would pose a problem for you.”
Now see here, asshole! Gamor murmured under his breath, before retorting, “I realize I should have known. Finding a simple pilot accompanied by a cybrid and someone who seemed like a well-trained soldier was the last thing I expected. While I was revising my plan, they blundered into dangerous territory with the sawbones. I pursued them, but they got away from me.”
The ex-police officer knew his employer’s idiosyncrasies well. By taking responsibility, Gamor obtained a reprieve.
“I’m going to take precautions in case they manage to reach the solar system. I suggest that you do what you must to ensure that these safeguards are unnecessary.” With that barely restrained threat, Morsak cut the connection.
Gamor straddled his two-wheeler and left the abandoned village. On the way to Gloria City, he amused himself by shooting mutants with a pistol. These were small, violet-colored creatures, a kind of dwarf piglet with swan’s beaks. With each shot, the pig-bird hybrids squealed in pain.
The Kenval Incident Page 11