by Rob Dearsley
She made it a couple of stumbling steps before she fell to her knees, her stomach convulsing at the mere thought of what they were doing, had been doing for the last decade.
“Come here.” The Spook’s voice was kind, tender even. He wiped her face with a soft pocket tissue. She looked up into his eyes, too confused to do anything else. His strong hands pulled her to her feet, steadying her. “You poor darling. I know it’s hard, seeing us like this for the first time.”
The Spook’s posture rippled, and he took a halting step back, blinking as though he’d just woken from a deep sleep.
“Miss.” He gestured for Arland to come further into the room.
She didn’t want to, didn’t want to see that thing anymore. Just wanted to cut and run. She didn’t care that they would probably kill her. At that moment, it was preferable to having to see it again.
“I must insist.”
The guard forced Arland forward.
The voice was like several people speaking all at once, different speech cadences and tones blending into a disconcerting whole. “We finally meet in person.”
Her head snapped up. The screens had come to life. A monochrome image of an older man’s face spread across them, the edges not quite lining up, as though each image was from a slightly different angle.
“We’ve been watching you for a long time. You have questions?” The tone of the voices shifted to something softer, more feminine. As it did the face on the screen shifted, morphing into that of a young woman.
“You know some but not all.” The voice shifted again, becoming hard and harsh, like a drill instructor. The face changed to that of a scarred old man. “The time of humanity is ending. The Old Ones have come to scour us from the universe.”
A child’s voice emerged from the masses and Arland almost vomited again. When she looked up it had morphed back into the first face. “We are fast running out of time. Ask your questions.”
Her mind reeled. The tingling in her limbs told her she was going into shock. For nearly a minute she stood there in silence, unsure what to say. It felt like having the curtain pulled back on a magic trick without any explanation, and not knowing where to start.
“Who are you?” she asked, her voice shaking. She thought she knew the answer, but it was a start, better than standing there like a lemon.
The woman’s voice replied. “You know us as the Binaries.”
Nineteen
- Pyrite Garrison -
Despite herself, Arland had moved closer while the Binaries were talking. Seeing one person merge into the next held a macabre fascination.
“For years, decades, we were a concept.” The voice and face shifted to the young woman. “Then they received the Opportunity’s last message.”
The screen dissolved into static. For a moment she thought she saw Maddix’s face appear, then the child’s one resolved.
“They needed something singular in purpose. That’s why we were put together.” The face morphed into the old man. “We were given one order. Find a way to save humanity. So, we did.”
Again, the screen filled with static before the woman came back. “They searched long and hard, found relics of the Terran Imperium and built upon them.” It shifted to the man’s voice. “The bodies of men are weak, and we needed something eternal. So, the concept became real, became this.”
Arland looked from the screen to the Spooks, realisation curdling her stomach. “You did this?” She nodded to the screens and the tank behind. “You took innocent people, you took a child and jammed it into that, that, thing!”
The Spook answered, “I assure you, Miss Arland, we never took anyone against their will. It would be counter to the process.”
“What about Maddix?” Arland snapped. Her anger overwhelming her. How could they do this to innocent people? It was immoral, illegal.
“Maddix?” the child asked, before shifting the older man. “You mean the outlier? That was never meant to happen. The cranial trauma stimulated upstream transfer.”
Arland rocked back. She’d shot him. It was her fault.
“It’s not even him,” Harris said. “Nothing more than a shadow. A single moment, a thought caught in an endless loop. If it could be safely purged, we would have put it out of its misery.”
Arland couldn’t believe that. She’d spoken to Maddix, he seemed so real. It was him. They had to be lying.
Doing her best to ignore the Spooks, she turned back to the Binaries. “You said you had a way to stop the Terrans?”
“We looked and looked,” the child replied.
The screen washed with static and Maddix’s face appeared, more clearly this time. “Lies,” he cried, before dissolving back into the woman.
“We’ve tried everything, but we can see only one path. They have shown us the way.”
“You mean the Terran ships?”
“The Old Ones? Yes, child. There is only one answer.”
Maddix broke in again. “Don’t.”
The man’s face returned. “Synthesis, union, assimilation if you will. They are the options ahead of us. Here and now the final choice must be made. This is the fulcrum for the future. Where the fates of all mankind will be decided.” It shifted to the child again. “This is the only answer.”
◊◊
Dannage led the way as their corridor ascended into a wide, cylindrical chamber.
Above them, a pair of monorail tracks ran into the distance. Other passages dipped into the otherwise unbroken cylinder at semi-regular intervals. The hinky gravity on stations like this left Dannage slightly disoriented.
“Captain,” Jax’s voice filtered through his earpiece, marred by static. “The V.I. is in contact again. It says you need to get to the core quickly to help Arland. Says it’s sending a tram.”
The hum of the monorail tram became audible over the incessant whirring of the air circulators. Dannage turned, smiling. It looked like this V.I. thingy was good to its word.
Hale tackled him and the pair of them tumbled down one of the entrance ramps.
“What the heck?” Dannage untangled himself, pushing the Terran off.
Before Hale could respond, the unmistakable crack of weapons fire echoed down the tramway above them.
Dannage risked a glance up into the tramway. There were only a handful of mercs, maybe four at most. The monorail had stopped just up the passage, and the guards had moved around to use the body of the carriage for cover.
Shots sparked off the curved floor just in front of him. Dannage ducked back into cover. If they could get the monorail carriage moving again, then they’d leave the mercs without any cover.
Hale reached over the lip of their cove, blind-firing his pistol in the direction of the cart and the mercs. There were no rewarding cries of pain, but the gunfire abated.
The chattering of Luc’s weapon came from off to their right, shortly followed by the retort of the merc’s weapons. Taking advantage of their split attention, Hale rolled up into a shooter’s stance, hunched awkwardly over the compact rifle she’d taken.
It was only a few metres from where Dannage cowered to the monorail. And the manual controls were on the end nearest them. He could probably make it.
“Hale, can you cover me?”
She ducked away from the merc’s return fire. “Cover you? That’s crazy. Why? You’ve got nothing to prove.”
“Yes, I have.” Before she could argue further, and before he could think it through, Dannage vaulted up into the main tramway and sprinted for the cart. Behind him, Hale cursed and started firing.
Staying low, Dannage ducked and wove, just like going evasive in the Folly. The principle was the same: erratic movements reduced his chance of getting shot.
Halfway there, only a couple of metres left to go. Dannage danced to one side as shots zipped past. He knew it was blind luck more than any skill keeping him alive. He just hoped it would hold. One of the mercs lined up on Dannage. Suppressing fire from Hale and Luc peppered the support stan
chion that the merc was hiding behind. The merc didn’t flinch.
Dannage threw himself the remaining metre. The merc fired and white-hot pain flashed through Dannage’s arm. Stars, it felt like the damn thing was on fire. He’d have screamed if he could catch his breath. Stars filled his vision as he struggled to breathe, perhaps they were coming to take him to the heavens. Was he dying?
The monorail control was there, right in front of him. Dannage slammed his good hand down on it and the car lurched backwards, spilling him onto the curved floor of the causeway. The mercs scattered, the bulk of their cover now gone.
“Cap’n? Cap’n, get up.”
Dannage blinked his eyes open, sitting up. The pain in his arm had muted to an insistent ache. He looked over, expecting to see a ruined stump where the guard’s round had torn it up. Thank the Stars it was whole. The sleeve of his shirt had been ripped away and replaced with a thick bandage. He wiggled his fingers experimentally and winced at the sharp increase in the pain.
“Don’t be a pansy.” Hale flashed him a smile. “’Tis but a flesh wound.”
“You’ll be fine, Cap.” Luc pulled him to his feet.
Dannage grinned, giddy at still being alive, and surveyed the scene. The monorail hadn’t gone far before stopping again.
“We should hurry if we want to get to Arland in time,” Hale said.
The thought instantly sobered Dannage. The three of them clambered into the monorail cart and started for the station’s centre point.
Of course, now the Spooks new they were coming.
◊◊
Arland glared up at the Binaries. For the moment, the woman’s face looked back with placid, almost empty eyes.
“It can’t be the only option,” Arland protested. “There has to be another way.”
The older man replied, “Stupid girl. If there was another way don’t you think we would have found it? Why did you bring her to us?” The last was addressed to the Spooks.
Harris frowned. “We brought her at your instruction.”
“We gave no such instructions.” The voice shifted to the younger man. “The outlier. We should have purged it before now.” The child rose to prominence. “No matter, we’ll start the process now. The girl is of no use to us. Take her for experimentation.”
Harris bowed congenially and gestured for Arland’s guard to follow him. The guard jerked Arland around hard enough to stumble her.
Harris almost walked straight into Simon as another guard pushed him into the room.
“What’s he doing here?” the other Spook demanded.
“We were told to bring him, sir,” Simon’s guard replied.
“The outlier.” The Spook’s eyes widened. “Forget removing them. Kill them both. Do it now!”
“NO!” Maddix’s voice boomed from the speakers, his face splintering across the screens. The lights flickered and several of the server racks blew out in showers of sparks and arcing electricity.
Arland’s guard flinched away from the destruction. Arland stumbled to her knees, the fall ripping her painfully from the guard's grip.
“Arland, run!” Maddix screamed. The screens were a snowstorm of static now. Arland felt the cuffs click open.
Without thinking, she pulled her hands free and swung the heavy cuff with all her strength into the guard’s crotch.
He doubled over, mind and body curling around his pain. Arland went for his gun.
“Shoot them.” The Spook had his gun out.
Arland dodged behind her guard as the Spook fired, the stunner rounds hitting the guard. Arland returned fire with the guard’s sidearm and the Spook’s head snapped back. For a moment he hung, back bowed, head back, a trickle of blood running from the small hole in his forehead, past his glassy eyes and down his broken nose, then the Spook slumped to his knees.
Harris’s voice snapped time back to its normal flow. “Drop the gun.”
Arland spun, bringing her gun to bear against the traitorous SDF commander. He had his own gun pressed to Simon’s head, keeping his body hidden behind Simon.
“Stars damn you, you coward.” In that moment, she couldn’t have hated him more. The urge to start shooting and damn the consequences was almost overwhelming.
“I mean it. No stunners this time. Put it down.”
She couldn’t watch Simon die. It wasn't even a choice. Arland lowered the gun. “Maddix, can’t you open Simon’s cuffs like you did mine?”
The female Binary voice replied. “The outlier has been purged. Your Maddix is dead.”
Harris’s lips curled into a tight smile. “Not dead, not yet.” Harris turned and, in a single move, shot the guard and shoved Simon into the room. The last thing Arland saw before the doors hissed closed was Harris stumbling back, shaking his head.
“What now?” The older man’s face peered through a black spiderweb of cracks. Arland didn’t remember the monitors being shot.
“This ends.” Arland advanced on the Binaries, firing methodically as she went.
The man’s face melted into the woman. “Child, there is still time.”
Another round went through the screens and one display went completely dark.
“Where am I?” the child asked, the image flickering between face on and profile. “Mommy?”
The tank cracked, crazed and shattered, sending a tidal wave of foul-smelling, warm liquid across the room. She kept firing, rounds hitting the mutated brain with a hollow slapping that brought bile rising to the throat.
“You stupid girl,” the older man snapped before fading.
“You have brought nothing but corruption, violence—” the younger man spat, his face distorting before he’d finished speaking.
“—and doom upon us all.” The woman sounded sad and tired.
The screens dissolved into static, then Maddix’s face resolved, smiling down at her.
Arland’s final shot took him between the eyes.
◊◊
The lights flickered, and the gravity fluctuated beneath Dannage. He put out a hand to steady himself against the side of the monorail carriage.
He tapped the com-link open. “Jax, what’s going on?”
“Not sure, Captain. Network traffic is going crazy. Hang on. Oh crap. Got to go.” She cut the com.
Dannage raised his eyebrows. That was odd.
“Looks like we’re almost there.” Luc pointed to a station platform. “Down!”
A rifle shot pinged off the cart next to Dannage. Hale grabbed him, shoving him down behind her, returning fire with the other hand. Luc’s rifle joined the chatter.
His head still reeling from the near miss, Dannage clambered to his feet. Guards spilt from the entrance above them, spreading out into cover.
Staying low, Dannage followed Hale into the cover of a support strut. Hale caught a couple of shots as they moved. The injuries didn’t seem to slow the Terran down, they didn’t even bleed that much. Hale swung around the pillar, firing blindly into the guards.
Dannage’s com crackled to life, the signal noticeably weaker than before. “Captain, we’ve got a problem.” Jax sounded scared. “Guys from the station, they’ve found us.”
Shots pinged off the column right beside Dannage’s head. “Seal the cargo hold.”
“I’ve already done that.” Jax’s retort was almost lost to static and gunfire. “It looks like they’re bringing in heavy cutting equipment. The hull won’t hold five minutes against laser cutters.” Notes of panic filled her voice.
Dannage leaned around the pillar, firing left handed. He doubted it would make much difference, but he had to do something. They were being pressed on all sides, their options dwindling. “Jax, undock the ship. Do it now.”
A voice bellowed from the other side of the concourse. “Two fire teams. Form up and keep moving.” The voice sounded like the stereotypical drill sergeant Dannage had seen in movies.
“Harris.” Hale’s expression darkened.
On the other side of the platform, Luc cried
out, falling back and clutching his leg, blood spilling from between his fingers.
Jax’s voice filtered through the com. “We can’t leave you here.”
Luc leaned out from behind the pillar to fire. His wounded leg slowed him down and he only just got back in cover before the return fire chewed up the ground around him.
“Damn it, Jax. Go!”
“They’re in the bay. If I unhook, I’ll kill them.”
Hale popped out and let off a couple shots. She took another hit, this one on her arm and fell back hissing in pain.
“Jax.” Dannage popped up and fired again, before ducking back into cover. “If they get onto the Folly, they’ll kill you. Undock. Go now!”
“Okay.” Her voice trembled, but the rattle of her typing followed.
Dannage was about to reply when the deck lurched away from him. For a moment Dannage was weightless. The lights flickered, then he was slammed into the deck. Hale came down on top of him, knocking the air from his lungs. Somewhere overhead a siren warbled.
Hale was back on her feet in a flash. She darted around the column and started firing. This time Dannage risked a glance toward the mercs. They’d recovered from the sudden lurch annoyingly fast and were already popping up to return fire. Both he and Hale ducked back into cover, a fragment of shattered column scraping across Dannage’s cheek. He clamped his hand over it and felt warm blood oozing between his fingers. He looked over to where Luc was fumbling another magazine into his rifle, leaning back against the pillar, his face drawn and taut. An irregular mass of breach foam covered the wound on his leg.
“I’m sorry man.” It was all he could think of. They’d keep fighting, but they were outmatched and hopelessly outgunned. It was laughable that he’d thought they would make it, against the Spooks’ armies, at the centre of their power. And now they couldn't even fall back to the Folly.
“Look,” Hale hissed, pulling him to his feet and practically shoving from the protective shadow of the column.
By all the Stars in all the heavens, he had not expected to see that. A wide grin split his face, hope rising from a dying ember to an inferno inside him.