by Liam Clay
One of them targets me. The man carries two weapons: a handheld crossbow trailing a clip of ammunition, and a kendo stick coated with sap and crushed rock. He tags me with three darts before I can bring my rifle up. Two skip off my armor, but the third finds a seam. It lodges in my skinsuit, tip just breaking the skin.
This is a concern, but not an immediate one. The Grav lands with a splash three meters away. My first shot takes him in the chestplate, and he sinks beneath brown water. Then something slams into my shoulder from behind. I swing my shear around blindly, and this new adversary is left holding half a kendo stick. She throws it at me, grabs her crossbow, and fires a round at my face. I duck underwater to avoid it. Staying down, I swipe my shear through the space where I think she is. But I hit nothing. Then her bicep closes over my windpipe, and I'm being dragged up out of the muck. Reaching over my shoulders, I try to get a grip on my attacker, but she fends me off. Everything is going dark. What a glorious end to a brilliant military career: choked out by a complete stranger in the middle of a fucking swamp. I'm sure they'll sing songs about it.
“We surrender!” Delez shouts from somewhere in the fog.
My attacker doesn’t reply or loosen her grip. But then a different woman says, “Are you serious?” Her voice is rich and booming, as though she is perpetually on the edge of both laughter and rage. “Why would you do that?” She adds.
“Because your warrior is about to kill our friend.”
“And?”
“And we don't want her to. Look, are you going to accept our surrender or not?”
There is a pause.
“Very well. Vyev, let him go.”
Now I can breathe again. And oh, the swamp never smelled so good. But relief quickly turns to embarrassment. I just got us all captured. Way to go me.
I try to stand up. But my body doesn't like this, and I fall sideways into the mud. Then someone is hauling me to my feet. It's Vyev, the woman who took me down. Her expression is venomous.
“You may not be one of them,” she says, “but you just shot my cousin. And if the elders decide to kill you, I want to be the one who does it.”
“In my defense, he tried to kill me first. And I think his armor stopped the bullet anyway. But I'm sorry, for what it's worth.”
She raises her fist to punch me - and then lowers it. “What is an apology from a foreigner worth? Nothing.”
“That's fair. What did you mean though, when you said I'm not one of them?”
Now she does punch me. At first, I think the blow has affected my vision - but it's just the Garden's shadow spreading over me. I gaze up at the platform’s underside, my problems momentarily forgotten. It is an inverted forest. Upside down trees spread their branches wide, to where their leaves will catch the sun. Green skinned faces watch me from nets and cocoon-like hammocks. Hundreds of thick vines hang down from the forest as well. And although the wind is nominal, they move. Their tips quest about on the ground, sampling water and soil like curious animals. Grav biotech at work, I assume.
Vyev loops one of the vines under my arms. The plant resists at first. But the woman makes a clicking sound with her tongue, and then it is coiling itself around me. Moments later, I'm being hoisted up into the air. The swamp smell recedes, and is replaced by a fresher chlorophyll scent. The sentient vine brings me safely up to the Garden. A wooden cage hugs the platform's edge here. I rise through a hole in its center, and strong hands pull me in. The Gravs remove the vine...
... and replace it with two lengths of rope: one at my wrists and another for my ankles. A third, longer rope is tied around my neck. The next person up is the leader - the one who ordered Vyev to free me. She is a great bull of a woman, and her presence dominates the cage. Gathering my neck rope in powerful hands, she leads me into the Garden like a dog on a leash.
The homes under the platform were woven into the forest itself. But here they have been built on the ground. Longhouses fronted by carved totem poles stand in copses amid the trees. Children play in the grass around them. They watch us as we pass, and then go back to their games. All are green skinned.
My captor leads me to a longhouse that is larger than the rest. The structure's interior is split into two halves. Its front section is devoted to living space. A huge communal table anchors the area, and colorful quilts hang between poles in the corners, providing privacy for individual families. A stone hearth off to one side radiates heat, although it is down to the embers now. But the other end of the house is a sprawling laboratory, and there is nothing archaic about it.
The woman moves to the central table and gestures for me to sit. She maintains her silence, but I sense that she is full of questions. Over the next few minutes, my friends are brought in to join me. Of them, only Rajani remains unbound. When we're all seated, the woman speaks.
“My name is Hera. I am the head elder here.” She turns to the Medgician. “Why do you travel with these foreigners? Were you separated from your Garden during battle, maybe? And where did you get these ugly Medivalian clothes?”
Rajani chooses to answer in reverse order. “These are my clothes. And I have no Garden, because I am a citizen of the green pyramid. I was working abroad when it fell, and hired these soldiers to escort me home. Clearly, they failed.”
Peace groans. “Have you ever heard of lying, Rajani? It's this great invention that makes people less likely to kill you.”
“Be quiet.” Hera says absently. “If you are not one of us, why is your pigment the same?”
“Because I’m a half-breed. My mother was a Grav.”
“Impossible. There are no relations between our people.”
“It is rare, but not unheard of. I was an exception.”
“Your father must have been a great beauty then, for your mother to go slumming with a Med. And why did you return here?”
“To discover what happened to my race.”
The Grav looks thoughtful. “A few months ago, I would have beaten you to death myself.” She laughs at (what I'm very much hoping was) her own joke. “But things are different now. Your city has been conquered by the Null, and they have replaced you as our enemy.”
Rajani tenses, although this would only be noticeable to someone who's been around her a lot.
“What can you tell me about them?”
“More than nothing. But you will have to make it worth my time.”
“How?”
“There are ways. These soldiers have good weapons. Where do they come from?”
“Opacity.”
“That city is a myth.”
“It is not.”
Hera grunts. Then she slaps her palm on the table in front of me. “If I tell the Medivalian what she wants to know, will you sell me weapons? Not just these you have with you, though. I need hundreds.”
“I don't think we can do that.”
Her face flushes. “Why not!”
“Because we're here against the wishes of our mayor. He doesn't want to risk angering the Null - whoever they are.”
“Your mayor does not need to worry. The Null do nothing unless it is part of their master plan.”
“What plan is that?”
“I ask the questions here. If you cannot supply us with weapons, what good are you to me?”
“We could fight.”
“There are only seven of you.”
“Yes, but we punch above our weight.”
“I disagree. Vyev would have killed you if I did not stop her. She still might, if you are not careful.”
“Everyone has off-days, alright? But you must have spared us for a reason, down there in the swamp. What was it?”
The Grav rubs her thick belly. “I thought you were Null at first. But then your friend begged for your life. The enemy would never do that.”
“Because they've had their emotions cut out with a scalpel?” Lucy guesses.
The woman blinks. “Yes. You know them?”
“We know one, I think. She’s called the Architect.”
At this, Hera rises halfway out of her seat. “Where did you hear that name?”
“Like I said, we met her. In a digital world that she built.”
“I know nothing of a digital world. But the leader of the Null here is known as the Architect.”
“Liquidy shit.” Peace says. “You guys realize what this means, don't you? Shion was right.”
“Looks that way.” Lucy says. Then she turns back to Hera. “We may have something to trade you after all. Information.”
The Grav studies her over steepled fingers. “Alright. Tell me what you have.”
“It isn't much. Just guesses, really. But the Architect was in that digital world for a reason. She was looking for the location of a downed spaceship, one capable of interstellar travel. Or that's what she told us, anyway.”
“You think the Architect was lying?” Francis says in surprise.
“I don't know. But if the Null want to leave the planet, why did they bother to conquer Medival?”
“And why are they trying to steal our Gardens?” Hera says.
“Both good questions, neither of which can be answered with space travel. There were two vehicles at that crash site, though. One was the ship, but the other was a much larger space station. And before they were destroyed a hundred years ago, those stations basically controlled the planet.”
Delez is scratching his head. “So you think they want to rebuild the station and achieve orbital supremacy? Why would they want to do that?”
“Maybe they're just dicks.” Francis volunteers. “You know, take over the world and all that jazz.”
“Doesn't seem like the Architect's style.”
“Well, the world has been doing a pretty shit job of taking care of itself. Maybe these guys think they can do it better.”
Hera is shaking her head. “The Null do not care about ruling people. When they attack us, it is to take our Gardens only.”
“Then they must be after the technology.” Francis says. “You know, to reverse engineer it like I used to do.”
“But we have been trying that for decades, and no one has ever succeeded. There are no machines inside this platform; just a substance that does not listen to gravity. It cannot be copied.”
“Maybe they know something we don't.”
“But that still leaves the question of why they want it.” Lucy says.
Hera seems conflicted about something. Then she says, “There is a thing that you should see. Come with me.”
CHAPTER 24
At the Grav's command, her soldiers untie our feet. Then she leads us out of the longhouse and down a narrow path covered in dead leaves. The trees press in. Our journey ends at a rundown shack. Hera points toward it.
“There is a man inside. One of the Null.”
“You captured him?” Tikal asks.
“Yes. His globetank fell into a mud pit. We blew a hole in its side and found him unconscious.”
I want to ask what a globetank is, but she's already leading us forward. Stooping under the lintel, I enter the tumbledown building. There is no furniture, just a dirt floor strewn with straw. And pegged across it, limbs splayed, is the most emaciated man I've ever seen. A fresh scar stands out livid on his skull, and every rib is clearly visible through his skin.
His green-tinted skin.
“He's one of you.” Francis says quietly.
“He was one of us.” Hera corrects. “Now he is one of them.”
“And is this how you treat your enemies: by starving them to death?”
“This is not our work. He has been trying to kill himself since the day we captured him. Vomiting up the food we force on him, cutting off his circulation with the ropes... it has been surprisingly hard to keep him alive.”
“Jesus. Has he told you anything?”
“Nothing except for a simple message telling us to surrender to the Architect. Torture has no effect.”
“Then why did you bring us here?”
“To show you what they can do. How they use surgery to turn people against their own kind. And with the advanced technologies they are collecting...”
“Shit. You think the Null really are trying to conquer the world.”
The Grav shrugs. “They are doing a good job so far. Why would they stop now?”
Somewhere out in the forest, an alarm sounds.
“What is that?” Tikal asks.
“Our sentries have spotted a group of globetanks. We must go.”
Leaving the Null to rot, we hurry back to Hera's longhouse. Vyev is waiting there at the head of a Grav cohort.
“Untie them and return their weapons.” Hera tells her.
The younger woman looks like she's swallowed lava. “But they shot Piet!”
“So he is dead?”
“No.” She replies sullenly. “Just bruised.”
“Then what is the problem?”
Apparently there are limits to Vyev's disobedience, because we are soon free and fully armed again. God bless mutual enemies. Then we hear a deep boom. Looking up, I see a spider's web of white filaments fanning out across the sky. The substance rides lightly on the wind, and then settles down over the forest. And everything it touches, dies.
“That is weaponized nanovax.” Rajani says. “But I have never seen a strain that virulent. The Null have been experimenting.”
She sounds clinical rather than concerned, and Hera gives her a hard look. But then a filament floats our way, and we are forced to run. To our left, a copse of infected trees is turning a mottled purple. The branches are literally wasting away before my eyes. And the roots must be too, because now the trunks are falling in all directions, shaking the ground with every impact.
“I thought they just wanted the Garden!” I yell to Hera.
“They do! And this is how they will try to get it. By killing everything that lives here, or causing us to flee.”
“So fleeing is an option?”
“Never.”
A tree cuts off our conversation. I jump one way, she rolls the other, and then I'm up and running again. The undergrowth thins out, and I reach the platform's edge. In the wetlands below, four perfect black spheres have appeared. Each is six meters in height and has 360 degrees of mobility. They possess a surreal quality that makes them seem invincible, and my fear of the Null increases yet again. But the Garden isn't going down without a fight. Hundreds of Gravs are sliding down vines, and more all already on the ground, seeming to flow over the fens rather than wade through them.
Turning, I see Vyev vanish over the precipice. The dart wound I sustained earlier is starting to swell; but I’m still embarrassed by my defeat at her hands, and so I am quick to follow. The vine I choose must want me gone, because it is happy to take me down.
My feet touch mud, and I join a detachment of Grav soldiers. In addition to their standard armaments, many are wearing bandoliers studded with midnight blue flowers. Their spade-shaped petals curl around a hidden core that glows with a smoldering light.
We home in on a tank. It must be made of nano-materials, because objects are passing through its surface like water - but from the inside only. The sphere’s upper shell is disgorging webs of nanovax into the sky. Guns bristle around its equator, and soldiers are being deployed into the swamp from its lower section.
I’ve drawn level with Vyev now. Ripping a flower off her chest, she cups it in both hands. The bio-bomb flares bright, and then she hurls it at the black sphere. It hits, sticks, and erupts into flame. The blast doesn’t breach the tank’s armor, but it creates a discolored area that is no longer permeable. Lobbing a grenade into the mud at its base, I peel away toward a group of Null soldiers.
There are five of them, crouched down behind a mound of scrub and weeds. Coming into range, I lay out flat with my rifle extended. Peace could probably curve her bullets around their cover, but I have to settle for patience. My fifth shot hits a shoulder, but this just puts me on their radar. I squirm further into the muck. Vyev isn't doing
any better. She's been forced down on an exposed stretch of ground, and there are bullet marks all around her. Our eyes meet, and I mime a course of action. She nods and then I'm on my feet, running diagonally past the enemy’s position. They rise to fire... and Vyev blows their heads apart. Changing course, I vault the mound and lie down among the corpses, intending to use them as cover while I decide my next move.
Physically, their scars are the only thing uniting the Null soldiers. They aren't particularly large or fit, either. But their utter calm and willingness to die is something I’ve never dealt with before. I lean over to examine a scar, but then Vyev is pulling me away.
“They always come back for their dead.” She hisses. “Look.”
I turn. The tank has reversed course and is heading straight for us. An idea finds me. Pulling the pins on two grenades, I drop them onto the bodies. The sphere is almost on top of us now. A few panicked steps and we dive out of the way, landing hard in the dirt. The tank rolls over the mound. An aperture opens in its side, and I get a glimpse of the thing’s innards. A framework of smaller, transparent spheres remains still as the black shell spins around them. Soldiers occupy some, while others contain heavy guns or machinery. The aperture rolls over the corpses, and a transparent sphere opens to accept them.
The grenades go off. The black sphere closes like a threatened sea creature, but the damage is done. The entire vehicle quivers, and then the shell sloughs off its frame. And like spiders from an egg sac, burning soldiers scurry from the wreckage. Awed and horrified, Vyev and I run from them... only to find another tank bearing down on us from the opposite direction. A massive gun breaks its skin, and we dive to the ground as it fires. But we are not its targets. The crippled tank is obliterated, along with its former occupants.
And now the Gravs rally. Wave after wave of them charge the tank, throwing bombs at its sides. A full half get mowed down by gunfire. But the deadly flowers are making an impact. Our side of the sphere has been incapacitated. It tries to flee, but ends up turning a great circle instead. Seeming to realize the futility of its efforts, the tank stops dead. And then it explodes from within, sending a halo of purple fire up into the sky. I look around. All four tanks are now flaming wrecks. We’ve won.