by Eve Langlais
“I never said you were. But you are wasting time being argumentative. Move!” she yelled.
He almost hollered back, knowing he was being ridiculous, unable to stop himself. He hated being so fucking useless. A flicker of motion drew his eye, and he bellowed, “They’re inside!” as the spidus launched itself at him from the roof of the tank.
He thrust out his arms and managed to keep it from wrapping around him, a wiry body larger than a cat and only slightly heavier. Of more concern was the glistening drop of poison on its fangs.
I don’t want to be digested. Or turned into Titan meat soup. He struggled to keep it from biting.
Zap.
The smell of burnt hair and flesh wrinkled his nose. The body he wrestled went limp. He thrust it away, only belatedly realizing his bionic arm had responded.
Just relax and let me handle it.
Me? An odd thing to think. Or had he just heard Riella talk to him? He didn’t recall her fitting him with an earpiece.
He shoved to his feet. There was more zapping and faint cursing from Riella.
She retreated from Burton, firing with precision on the many spiduses stalking her. A motion overhead made him look up. Seeing a soaring body, he didn’t even think before he reached out and grabbed it.
His bio arm held on, barely. Bionic one? It took the creature’s leg right off. He tossed it and yelled, “How are they getting in?”
“I told you,” she hollered back. “They can squeeze through tiny holes.”
One of the most frightening things she could have said. “How many are there?” he asked, stomping around the vehicle to see more of them squeezing through the few gaps.
“A wild band is usually under fifty, but Enclave ones can have up to a hundred.”
A possible hundred creepy, spider-like, squishy, and gross monsters. “We need to get out of here.”
“Do you think?” was her sarcastic reply. Her weapon fizzled, and she holstered it before charging the beasts, her metal arm sweeping the way. “Get in the tank. We need to leave. We might be able to make it out through the tunnels before the Enclave arrives.”
Neither of them made it to Burton before the door to the garage began rattling upwards.
“Alfred! Close that door!”
“I can’t. They’ve overridden our control.” He rolled from the vehicle. “Get in the tank. I’ll provide cover while you escape.” Alfred’s roller leg began to fire, a rapid rat-tat-tat that mowed down the spiduses.
Totally radioactive and Titan had instant envy. He cast a quick glance at his new leg and wondered if he had a machine gun in there. Not that it would help much. The widening gap of the opening door meant the flood of spiduses increased tenfold. They poured in, and no amount of struggling and swinging and tossing could stop the wave. The monsters overwhelmed him, the slickness of their spit on flesh leaving him dizzy. Weak. In moments he lay on the ground, staring at the light strip in the ceiling. The spiduses roamed over his body, even over his face, while he lay there wishing he could shudder. At least, unlike the tigber, he didn’t hurt. Couldn’t feel anything at all.
Despite his body being frozen, he could see and hear just fine. Movement proved limited. He could blink. Twitch a finger. Part his lips and shift his tongue even as it proved hard to push out words. “Riella?”
“I’m sorry.”
Sorry? It wasn’t her fault they were attacked. As a Wastelander he’d been fending off danger his entire life.
“I’m sorry,” he replied. “I should have listened to you and moved faster.”
“It wouldn’t have matter.” Then to Alfred. “Quick, you need to hide.”
How was Alfred still standing? He heard the whir as Alfred zipped past and concealed himself inside Burton.
As for Titan, he waited to die. He heard the hum of vehicles through the rumble of the tank they never got to use. The furry bodies were still on top of him.
A strange wave of something went through him, making his teeth vibrate and his limbs shiver. Burton’s engine stopped, but there wasn’t complete silence. He heard the stomp of boots, the creak of metal, a familiar noise when dealing with Enclave soldiers and their armor.
“Call them off,” a female voice commanded.
“Yes, my queen.”
Queen?
What would a queen be doing underground?
Titan mentally cringed as something shivered over his mind, a cold flutter then, nothing. There was a skitter of motion as the spiduses left his body.
Good sign, or the indication of something worse yet to come?
He heard footsteps before boots of the darkest green leather stepped past, a skirt hanging just past the knees in a fabric thick and intricately stitched touching the high tips. Expensive clothes.
For a queen. Fuck.
The woman went right past Titan, leaving him only an awkward view of her. She wasn’t interested in him. When she stopped, her voice held a hint of amusement amidst the cold indifference. “Riella. It’s been a long time.”
“Not long enough,” Riella muttered, her words low and thick.
“Is that any way to greet your queen?”
That was met with a derisive snort.
But of more interest to Titan, it sounded as if they knew each other. Riella knew the wicked Emerald queen. A queen he’d hated his entire life.
“How did you find me?” Riella murmured. “You were supposed to believe I was dead.”
“I did for many years. Bravo on pulling off such a valiant stunt. But did you really think I wouldn’t hear of the incredible metal parts being sported by the gladiators in the other kingdoms?”
“I’m not the only one who makes them.”
“No, but yours are the most successful. And for a time, I was content to let you ply your trade, but now there is need of you.”
“Need?” Riella snorted. “I’m not interested in helping you with anything.”
“Yet you will serve. Whether you like it or not.”
The ominous note didn’t quell Riella’s rebellion. “I won’t.” Quiet. Determined.
His admiration for her grew. A rebel. Against the very queen he hated. He might have fallen in love in that moment.
“Defiance despite the fact you have no choice. I could kill you right now, and you couldn’t do a thing to stop me.”
“I’d rather die than go anywhere with you.”
Titan would have trembled with frustration if his body weren’t frozen. There was something inherently awful about listening to a threat, of knowing the danger surrounding them was to the extreme and being unable to do a damned thing about it.
“You won’t be dying anytime soon. As a matter of fact, your new home will be doing its utmost to keep you healthy.”
“And prisoner.”
“Can’t have you wandering away again, now can we? Take her.” The command was barked.
Booted feet tromped past, giving him a glimpse of composite black footwear that led into the metal leg guards made of a dark green. They looked like large robots. In a sense they were. Turn off the power and the Centurions couldn’t move, but with the power on, it made the Enclave soldiers a force to be reckoned with.
The queen swept past, and he wished he could grab hold of her ankle. Drag her down that he might exact his revenge on the woman who took his father from him.
As if sensing his regard, she paused. “And who is this?” The green leather boot toed him, and he couldn’t do much other than drool because of the paralytic.
Fear me with my vacant gaze and slobber. Instead he managed to spit, “Your days are numbered.” One of his most courageous and stupid moments.
It should have resulted in instant death.
The queen crouched, and he truly got to see her, from her unearthly pale skin to the deep red of her hair pulled into a messy bun atop her head. The tightness of her skin spoke as much to her age as wrinkles did. “Such brash words from trash.” Her gaze flicked over him, cold enough to make him inwardly shudder.
“Don’t waste your time with him. He’s no one,” Riella said.
Understanding she said it to probably help him nonetheless didn’t take the sting out of the words.
“Is he really nothing to you? Because he is rather attractive.” Fingers pinched his chin and turned him left and right, perusing him. “A decent body. A shame he’s missing parts. Although, I will say, fine work on the replacements. Is that all you upgraded?”
“He’s not my lover if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I’m just here for parts,” he grumbled, joining the charade.
“I should hope you’re not fornicating with him. A daughter of mine is expected to have some standards.”
Daughter? The word slapped him. It couldn’t be…
Looking again, he saw the resemblance: the straight nose, the hair a similar shade of red—although the mother’s was a halo of messy curls compared to the sleekness of Riella’s.
But who cared about their appearance? Riella was the queen’s daughter. And a liar. He’d slept with the enemy.
“You’re part of the royal family?” The words seethed from him, and the queen’s eyes widened.
“Don’t you look perfectly disturbed by the fact.”
He was beyond perturbed. She lied. The knowledge of it burned.
“You’re Enclave,” he snarled.
“Not anymore,” was Riella’s soft reply.
It didn’t matter. She’d totally misled him. She wasn’t an exile or a rebel, just a spoiled princess who’d run away from the city and her “horrid” life as a wealthy citizen.
“What’s it been, ten years?” said the queen. “Give or take. I can never quite remember. It took me a while to realize you were even gone.”
“I don’t know why you’d bother to bring me back.”
“We have unfinished business, daughter.”
There was that word again. The reminder. “I will kill you both,” he spat.
“Look at that anger. It’s quite entertaining.” The queen patted his cheek. “But I don’t have time for you to posture and declare your hatred and revenge. We need to get moving. I don’t like to be away from the capital for too long.”
“You aren’t going anywhere with Riella. Unhand her.” Alfred rolled to the rescue, emerging from Burton.
Hope bloomed in Titan. With those machine guns in his legs, he would save the day.
Except Alfred didn’t fire. The queen didn’t die in a hail of bullets.
She raised her hand, and Alfred froze. “Really, Riellandria, must you keep doing this?” The queen’s tone was full of exasperation.
“Doing what? Alfred is my assistant.”
“You gave him your dead father’s face. You know how much I dislike that.” The queen snapped her fingers, and a soldier fired. The man he’d come to known as Alfred was blown to pieces, chunks of which landed close to Titan. All metal and wires but no flesh, no blood.
A clever robot. Alfred never actually existed. Another lie. So many lies. The anger burned hotly in him.
“Was anything you told me real at all?” he seethed.
But Riella never replied. The guards carrying her moved past.
The queen wasn’t done, though. “We need to get rid of him.” She pointed back at Titan. “Have the trainer send a few spiduses back to finish him.”
The queen promised the death he’d been asking for. He closed his eyes.
I don’t want to die. The voice whispered more loudly. I want to live.
The odd statements—that he would have sworn weren’t his, and yet at the same time came from within—made him ignore the skittering of the spidus legs on the floor. Doesn’t matter if I want to live. I can’t escape. I’m going to die. That sounded like Titan.
We die only if you give up.
What was this “we” thing?
Give me control.
How could he give himself control?
You are so dense. I am not you, but I could be. I’m not affected by the poison.
In that second, he had a moment of clarity. Of realization. He’d not imagined it. His bionics were talking to him.
Holy fuck of all fucks, his new metals parts were cognizant.
The horror at having something alien and parasitic inside him almost matched his panic as the first strand of rubber thread slapped his cheek and stuck. It wound around his head, the hairy and moist legs lifting him to make the job easier. Sealing him away.
He was going to become meat soup if he didn’t act.
It would be so easy to die. All he had to do was nothing. Nothing and it would end.
But then that meant his enemies would win. The queen, guilty of so many crimes, would continue her evil reign. Riella would go on lying, pretending she was something that she wasn’t and not suffer any consequences.
If he died, they won.
We are not dying.
Then how? How could they escape? His body remained frozen.
Only the meaty parts.
He managed only a gasp as his bionic arm shot out and grabbed the spidus body wrapping his face. Squeezed it in its fist. The flesh might be paralyzed, but the metal wasn’t.
Squish, the body splattered. One down. The arm shoved them to a seated position for better visual acumen and managed to thrust forward. The bionic fingers grabbed the furry critter and tossed it into another.
Even as he fought for his life, he heard the rumble of engines starting, a noise that grew softer as it left. The queen and her daughter off riding off to the city.
Leaving him to die.
They should have stuck around and made sure he did.
Because, even if he had to crawl, he’d have his revenge.
Six
Titan hated her. Riella saw it in his expression, heard it in his words.
The rapid vehemence of it stunned. Would he truly judge her on who had donated half the genes in her body? Because, no matter what she called herself, the Emerald Queen was not a mother.
But Riella didn’t have time to explain to Titan and never would. Because he was going to die. Horribly. And she couldn’t do a thing about it.
Feeling helpless burned. It hurt almost as bad as losing her arm. She didn’t like to be weak, especially in front of her mother. From a young age, when the queen would visit the special nursery for her royal brood, Riella had felt that eye on her, judging. Judging more and harder than the others because of her imperfections. Her mother couldn’t see past it to everything else that made her special. Until Mother found a use for her.
When the queen realized how much power Riella wielded, she decided to profit from it—but her jealousy made her ask the impossible so she could punish Riella when she failed. As her teen years waned, Riella realized her life would be a never-ending series of punishments and misery. Faking her death had been the scariest and bravest thing she’d ever done.
She’d had almost a decade of freedom.
The Centurions tossed her into the heavily armored imperial vehicle. There was no gentleness for the runaway princess. Riella hit the floor hard, shoulder first then her face. She couldn’t move, only listen and chastise herself for letting this happen. She’d gotten caught. Quickly and easily. The shame of it.
The door to the tank slammed shut, the machine rumbled into motion, and she could only offer a silent apology to Titan. He didn’t deserve to die because of her.
Sharp fingers poked at her mind, looking to tear forth secrets. It was hard to keep them out with the poison running through her system.
“Don’t you dare block me out, not after everything you’ve done,” Mother hissed. The queen, the person she hated most in the world, stood over her with an angry look on her face. The kind that meant someone would die painfully. “Let me see what you’ve been up to.”
As if Riella would spill her secrets. Keeping her mind shielded came to her naturally, and with a bit of effort, it fell into place. But not before those cold curious fingers snared an emotion.
“You�
�re worried about that man we left behind. Maybe we should bring him with us if he’s that important to you.”
That was a fate even worse than digestion by spidus. She had to do something, and quickly. “I’m worried because my client paid good money for the upgrade.”
“Money that the crown will put to good use once confiscated.”
“Good luck finding it.”
“I’ll find it. I promise. And even if I don’t, you’ll earn more for me.”
“Don’t be so sure. Not delivering will ruin my reputation.” Feeble excuse to divert attention, but the queen ran with it.
“You won’t need a reputation, given you’ll be exclusively working for Emerald now.”
“Don’t you already have enough people to bow to your insane demands?”
“We’ve had issues.”
Despite the fact she still lay face against the floor, she couldn’t help but taunt, “Don’t you mean rebellions? Rumor has it that some of your domes have had problems with their citizens.”
“Insurgents!” the queen spat. She crouched beside Riella and in a soft, deadly voice said, “Those that think to defy me will regret it. And you will help me by creating a weapon that will make them fall in line.”
“Not happening.”
She could feel the grip of the fist in her hair as her head was lifted from the floor. The queen’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Still impertinent.”
“Never did manage to beat it out of me.” And she was beaten often. Those in the same litter, because she wouldn’t call them brother or sister, not even cousin, were all too happy to tattle on her and save themselves the strap.
“I have no interest in trying to curb it. I have a theory that the fire in you, the thing that makes you angry and rebellious, is what allows you to design and gives you the ability to forge metal into unique patterns.”
“You’re overstating my brilliance. Alfred does most of the metal work.” She only fine-tuned the end product.
“He might fabricate the parts, but you provide the machine schematics. You are the one who can put them all together.”
“I won’t design a weapon for you.” Riella was many things, but a mass murderer wasn’t one of them.