by L H Whitlock
Everything had started out as planned and, as promised, Golan provided a safe haven for the Hilians. Then, a sudden death seized over two thirds of the population. Ulrick watched helplessly as his people struggled to survive.
It was then discovered that Golan had polluted the entire planet’s water supply with an herb, which many Hilians were deathly allergic to. Ulrick evacuated the surviving Hilians and relocated them to Aray-1038, an engineered planet designed by a group of cyborgs known as the Developers.
Ulrick harvested planets under Golan’s control, slipping as much Synthnic as he could to the Developers. Ulrick did not question what the cyborgs wanted with the Synthnic, he imagined it was to fuel something very powerful. Unfortunately, not much was known about Synthnic, though something told him the Developers knew a lot more then they let on. Synthnic was a planet’s life force and could be harvested using a device the Developers built. In addition to that, they had also created a device that converted Synthnic into a usable energy source. This was how Aray was built. The engineered planet used a mantel of converted Synthnic to provide electricity, which would power the gravitational field of the planet. In this case, the Developers had used the converting device for good, but he knew it could also be used as a weapon.
It had taken over one hundred and fifty rotations to build their strength and develop allies. Now they were ready for their next move. With the help of the Renegade they could finally defeat Golan’s army and end the senseless destruction for good.
Ulrick stood from his seat, entered into his study, and activated the life size hologram of Lily. He circled her slowly before stopping in front of her to gaze into her aqua eyes. The replica did nothing to show their true majesty, nor did it do justice to the paleness of her hair or the dotting of freckles on her nose. He closed his eyes and imagined her arms around his shoulders and lips locked with his. Ulrick groaned, imagining her sprawled out on his bed wearing nothing but the string of rocks around her neck. He released his member from his pants and grasped his length in his hand. He imagined her back arching as he plunged into her and her soft delighted moans. He stroked himself as the fantasy sprung to life in his head. Soon, he reminded himself, soon she would be his.
20
“Get up! The Varlies are attacking!” Brock’s voice sliced through her sleep. Lily rolled to face him, her eyes heavy and mind cloudy. Why is it still dark? “Shut the hell up Brock. We are fifty damn stories up. They can’t get up here.” She rolled over, sleep threatening to pull her into its dark depths.
“They’re climbing the motherfucking building!” Brock grabbed her by the arm, forcing her off the makeshift bed of folded blankets and dusty towels. She groaned. Though the bed felt like she was sleeping on an asteroid, she still missed the lumpy padding of the dirty sheets. Her legs wobbled as she slowly regained control of her body.
“Get to the roof,” Lily ordered. She stumbled through the room and grabbed her discarded bag. “Get Vincent.” Lily threw open the door to the hallway. The RAB attached to her arm blinked as she pressed the panic button.
Gloria answered with a groggy voice. “El, what’s wrong.”
“We are under attack. On our way to the roof. Get here as fast as you can.”
“Leaving now.” Gloria’s voice was already laced with distress.
Brock carried Vincent like a child over his shoulder. The incapacitated man’s hair nearly hung to Brock’s knees. “It’s thirty floors to the roof. Meet you there.” He raced up the stairs taking two at a time.
You’ve got to be kidding me. Lily ran up as quickly as she could, stopping only briefly to adhere a few electric mines to the steps. When activated the devices would send an electric pulse through the body strong enough to stop the heart. They were one of her favorite toys.
Brock kicked open the door to the roof and rested Vincent up against the wall next to the door. Once Lily was through, he wedged it shut with a loose board.
“Gloria, where are you?” Lily yelled through the RAB.
“Be there in ten minutes. We had a small delay.” Gloria’s voice hinted that the ‘small delay’ was really her not being able to pilot the ship. Hopefully, Alberta would be able to give her enough instruction to get her safely in the air.
Lily peered over the edge of the roof. Varlies were climbing the walls. Some were already nearly halfway up, they didn’t have ten minutes.
Brock unzipped his bag and pulled out a handful of explosives, laying them in a messy pile. Lily checked her gun to make sure it was loaded then focused her energy. The E-Gun heated in her hands, her power energizing the weapon.
Varlies circled the building. It was strange, they generally hunted in isolation only preying on guards or prisoners who did not make it back to the fortress before night fall. They didn’t hunt for specific pray, let alone climb over seventy stories to get to them. She magnified her lenses to get a closer look at one of the oily-haired Varlies. At the end of each hefty paw were long yellow claws that dug into the side of the cement building, propelling itself up with surprising speed.
The building rumbled with the thrashings of dozens of large beasts. Those who couldn’t climb, barreled through the hotel doors in search of another way up. Lily threw a grenade off the roof. It hit, engulfing several of the Varlie in flame, sending them plummeting to the ground.
Another group of Varlies joined the fight. They climbed over the fallen without a single sympathetic gesture. They leapt onto the building, sunk their claws into the rock, and climbed with immense speed.
Leaning over the side of the roof, Lily shot energized bullets at the pursuing animals. The bullets exploded and the beasts lost balance, falling to the ground in a chorus of thuds.
“Gloria, where are you?” Lily shouted into the RAB as the first Varlie pulled itself onto the roof and lunged at Lily. She shot; the bullet ripped its throat open and blood spilled from its neck, soaking its gray fur in crimson. The hairy beast howled and lashed out at her, cutting her arm. Lunging backward, Lily fired three bullets into its chest. It continued without faltering a single step. Why is it not retreating?
She backed away, ducking as it struck out at her again. She avoided one lethal paw, but the other sliced her stomach. Lily dropped her gun and doubled over, clutching her abdomen in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Her vision blurred and her legs swayed beneath her.
The creature stared at her with yellow eyes, its lips parting to reveal blood stained daggers. Roaring, it leapt, slamming into her and sending her crashing down on the rooftop. The breath rushed from her chest, lights danced behind her eyes and she heaved for breath. The beast snarled; its claws digging into her shoulders as it pinned her down. She squirmed, but each movement sent pain coursing through her torso. The creature’s nose nearly touched hers, its breath coming out in metallic smelling huffs. Its sickly yellow eyes held an expression of a much more intelligent life form. Lily cried out for help, but only a desperate whisper left her lips.
“I’ve got you.” The taunt seemed to evade her mind. The Varlie reared back, its mouth gaping open displaying its torturous weapon, then with a cry of agony it collapsed.
Lily struggled to push the lifeless body off but her limbs no longer worked and a coppery taste filled her mouth.
“Brock, help!” She tried to yell but only managed a breathless gasp. Her vision started to dance, her heart raced with panic, and lungs burned. Brock finally managed to roll the beast off her.
She gasped and her lungs filled with smoky air. Brock clutched her to his chest as he ran across the blood-stained rooftop toward the hovering heli-shuttle. Lily closed her eyes and leaned her head against his chest, the spinning of the heli-shuttle’s blades making her nauseous.
Brock secured her in a seat and gripped her by the shoulders, giving her a slight shake. She offered him a reassuring smile, her eyes struggling to stay open.
Gloria hovered the ship to the best of her abilities. Every now and then the shuttle swayed left or right, the sudden movement k
nocking everyone around.
Brock sat next to her. He quickly covered her arms in holding gel, the thick goop tightened over her wounds to stop the bleeding. Her mind was hazy and she was sticky with blood. Is it mine? She watched Brock pull off her blood-soaked vest, and wipe the green jell along a large wound.
“Shit, baby girl,” Brock muttered while using a rag to clean the blood off her stomach.
“We need to leave now,” Brock yelled at Gloria, who guided the ship away from the crumbling building. “She’s loosing too much blood and this gel is only temporary.”
His words got lost somewhere in Lily’s head.
The Varlies had stopped their relentless pursuit and were now hunched over the dead, their animalistic cries piercing through the Heli-shuttle’s thumping.
“What’s wrong with them?” Gloria’s voice seemed far away.
Lily tried to remember the Varlie’s eyes and where she had seen that color. Her mind was foggy; her body a splinter of pain. Brock grabbed her shoulders and shook. She managed a lopsided grin then her eyelids dropped.
21
Keeven walked down the long, dark hallway toward Golan’s office. With each step his heartbeat increased and his stomach tightened. Still, he surged forward; it was his responsibility to inform Golan of the events at the prison.
Stopping in front of the heavy, black iron door to Golan’s throne room, Keevan took a deep breath and raised a trembling finger. He paused mid-air, hovering just over the intercom. For several moments, his mind demanded, begged that he turn and run.
He pressed the button, his heart nearly stopping as he waited in the cold silence of the hallway for his liege to reply.
“What is it?” came Golan’s deep voice.
“My lord…I have news of a disturbance at Briella. It pertains to Ulrick. You said you wanted us to report anything that happens to you regarding him, so I am reporting…”
“I know what I said…enter.”
The door slid open and Keeven took a timid step into the shadowed room. Heavy brown drapes covered what he supposed were viewing windows and a large L-shaped desk dominated the far corner. The rest of the area was bare, no carpeting, no artwork, just the oversized desk with an ornately decorated, high-backed chair sitting behind it.
Keevan squinted in the dim light and took a slow step forward. He could see the outline of Golan’s head through the darkness, as though light touched everything in the vicinity, but him.
“My lord. Please. I have footage of the incident.”
“Then play it.” Golan’s nails rapped on the desk. Slow. Methodical. Impatient.
Keeven gulped. “Of-of course.” He quickly made his way across the room, his shoes tapping awkwardly loud on the metal floor the entire way. Holding out his RAB, he transferred the feed to the video screen and the scene began playing out.
Golan watched the footage in silence, not bothering to move closer for a better view or offer his guest a seat. Keevan kept his eyes fixed on his shoes. He didn’t dare look at the video, nor at his leader.
A short, high-pitched “huh” came from Golan, and Keevan’s eyes jumped to the outline of the high-backed chair.
Golan leaned forward, his hands pressing into the glossy wood of his desk, his fingers long and bony. His face pushed into the light, casting a glare over his thin, gray, and red-streaked hair. His skin was pale, his eyes a dull yellow and his ears puffed and deformed. He had an odd beauty that was overpowered by a foulness that couldn’t quite be placed.
A smile stretched Golan’s skinny face, making wrinkles gather atop his cheekbones. Silence paralyzed Keevan as Golan seemed to lock eyes with him. Sweat trickled down his back and he swallowed, the sound seemingly audible in the frigid silence.
“His Ja’ Keo Gruna…” Golan said slowly, breaking apart the syllables.
“My liege?” Keevan’s voice came out in a near whisper. He couldn’t seem to look away from those yellow eyes.
“His pre-destined mate.” Golan leisurely relaxed back in his chair, the shadows engulfing everything but the glow of his eyes.
“She is part of the Renegade…”
“I know who she is. Now, let’s see if we can’t have some fun, shall we?” With a lazy twiddle of his fingers, Golan activated a holographic map that floated above his desk. Light flooded him, showcasing his sharp, angular features. He focused for a long moment, a vein in his temple pulsed with strain and the glow in his eyes faded in and out. “Find the hideaways in the city,” Golan rasped, his voice sinister.
The map zoomed in on a pack of gray-haired Varlies racing mindlessly toward a crumbling hotel.
A slow laugh flowed between Golan’s parted lips. “Oh good…my little pets found the girl.” He focused again, his forehead creasing and jaw clenching. “Kill her!” A smile stretched over his face.
Keevan watched as the beasts climbed the building, fighting to get to the rooftop. Suddenly mindless, soulless monsters. They flung themselves onto the roof, relentlessly attacking the blonde warrior and tackling her to the ground.
“I’ve got you,” Golan sang before releasing the final attack.
The Varlie’s jaws were about to close around her when it collapsed.
“Oh darn,” Golan muttered. “She killed it.” He huffed and leaned back in his chair, his fingers rapping on the wood table. Slow. Methodical. Impatient.
“Put together an order to kill her on sight.”
“Mickaal has put a reward out for bringing her in safely,” Keevan replied.
“Do I care what orders Mickaal gives? Tell the troops that anyone who sees her and does not kill her will be destroyed.”
“Yes, my lord,” Keevan replied, a ball forming in the base of his throat.
“This is our chance to get rid of Ulrick.”
“Sire?”
“Ah, Keevan...” Golan purred. “She is Ulrick’s weakness, and she will be his demise.”
“Of course, my lord,” Keeven muttered, suddenly entranced in the glow of those yellow eyes.
“You are tiresome, are you not?”
The beginning of Golan’s words filtered through Keeven’s ears, the remaining consumed his mind. The room faded away and a pulsating warmth flooded his senses. There was nothing more he could do—nothing more he wanted to do—than to obey. Keeven’s arms moved on their own, snaking their way to the E-Gun holstered on his hip. His fingers settled on the gun’s smooth handle and rapped. Slow. Methodical. Impatient.
22
Brock watched through the viewing window as the shuttle took off with Vincent and Sara. The small units were much faster than their Home Ship, so Sara and Vincent would arrive on Base a few rotations before the rest of the crew.
Brock returned to the medical room. Not wanting to wake Lily by transporting her from the portable med-bed to the sleeping cot, Brock placed an extra pillow under her head and tucked a blanket around her.
Zeth knocked on the door and Brock ushered him in with a wave of his hand. The orange man sat next to Brock and clasped his hands in his lap. Silence filled the room for several moments as Brock stared at Lily’s still form. He had been so close to losing her, his heart nearly burst with the thought. It wasn’t Lily’s first close encounter with death, but she scared him this time. She was lucky Sara had been able to seal her wounds and stabilize her before she became critical.
Zeth cleared his throat awkwardly. Brock turned and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”
“Um,” Zeth’s gaze flicked between Lily and his feet. “I just wanted to say thank you, to all of you, for saving my people.”
Brock nodded. “No need to thank us, it’s what we do.”
“I just…Lily almost died because she saved us.” Zeth’s voice teetered away.
“She didn’t almost die because she saved you, something was wrong with the Varlies. It has nothing to do with you, so don’t you worry.”
Zeth’s purple tongue darted out to lick his eye. “Anyway, I wanted to say thank you. I’ll be returning t
o my village at the refugee camp once I’m able to.”
“Of course.”
Zeth’s gaze shifted from Brock to the floor and he swung his feet under him. “Well…Good luck.”
Brock rested his elbows on his knees. “Good luck with what.”
“With her, I mean.”
Brocks jaw tightened. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
“I heard you two last night. Seems like someone else has caught her eye.”
Brock’s brow furrowed and he gave the other man a sharp glare. “Why do you say that? Who?”
“I don’t know,” he said, raising his palms in the air in surrender. “I just met you guys. I simply call them as I see them. Good luck with her though. She would be a fine lover.”
Brock felt his temper rising, he was getting tired of this scaly freak real fast. “You’re walking a fine line, buddy. What do you mean by that?”
“I was simply wishing you good luck. The ladies can be difficult.” Zeth put his hands up and patted the air.
Brock shook his head, pulled out a rag from his pocket, dumped white polisher onto it and shined his metal arm. “Sure, thanks for the advice.”
The Liklin was once again silent for several moments. “Well, have a good night.” He stood and walked across the room, his tail swaying behind him.
Lost in thought, Brock rubbed at a black spot on his arm until it reflected the image of his scruffy face. He watched Lily’s chest rise and fall with soft breaths and thought about what the Liklin had said. Was she really losing interest in him? If so, who would have caught her eye? They were rarely around other people, so outside relationships were difficult. He wondered if it was Rowan. It definitely wasn’t Gustavo, she had a long standing rivalry with him. Could she really not be into him anymore?