The Live Soldier Trilogy Box Set

by Liam Clay

“You!”

  I hold my arms out. “This isn't what it looks like. The Architect tricked us!”

  But Hera isn't listening. She covers the distance between us with lumbering steps, raises her sword, and brings it down at my head. But even now, I can't make myself believe that she will actually do it. And at the last possible instant, I see doubt enter her eyes. She tries to shift her swing's trajectory... but it isn't enough. The blade slices through my brow and into my linked eye, sending sparks flying. Then it strikes my outstretched right arm, just below the shoulder. The blow splits armor, flesh and bone with equal ease. And just like when I killed Porter, my worldview switches to snapshots. I watch as my arm is pared away from my body. As the stump sprays blood into Hera's face. As the appendage, no longer a part of me, spins in freeze-frames to the ground. And finally the meaty smack as it hits, rolls, and lies still.

  Then time resumes, and I'm running. Away from Hera, away from my friends, away from myself. I have no thoughts. There is no pain. My only desire is to flee, to leave what just happened behind. Because like everything else, it can't be real. My body is whole. Not broken and ruined. But I can feel the blood pouring down my side, and the world is going dim. I crash into a planter, leaving a gory brushstroke on the granite. My retcom is fizzing and flashing, spitting fluids across my face.

  I’m past the square now, in the neighborhood of minarets. The pain has found me. I'm still on my feet, but barely. No, I'm down on my back. My mother is by my side though, caressing my face and whispering into my ear. Except that I never had a mother. I've always been a freak. Inhuman. And now, at last, the outside matches the in. How many people have I crippled in my life? Maybe they are watching this, and laughing. I see warehouses, row upon row. Rajani’s kin within them, waiting to be turned into clockwork servants. Is that them behind me now? I can’t see anything. Someone, please help me.

  CHAPTER 29

  “How will we get through the wall? It’s too cramped in there to carry him.”

  “Do you think we can wake him up? The stump is wrapped in gel-tape now, at least.”

  “But he's lost so much blood...”

  I'm being dragged. By one arm and a leg. I open an eye - my only eye. We're at the base of the wall. The tangle of branches looks impenetrable.

  “What...”

  “Holy shit, he's trying to talk.”

  They set me down, and Lucy's face swims into sight. Her shaved head is caked in blood, but she seems alert.

  “Anex, we're all here. The Null and the Gravs killed each other off. Well, except for Hera and Pon. Tikal took care of them.”

  “Pon too?” My voice is softer than rustling leaves, but she hears me.

  “Yeah, him too. Shit happens, and it doesn't matter anyway. We have to get out of here before the city caves in on itself. Can you move?”

  “Where's... Tikal?”

  She's here, right beside me. Look, I wouldn't ask anyone else to try this. But you aren't like other people. You're better. Stronger.” Her voice breaks. “And there is no other way.”

  My absent arm feels like it's been flayed to the bone. If only it had been. I can't bring myself to look at it - at the nothing that I will see. And my eye... isn't spitting sparks anymore. But titanium splinters are digging into my orbital bone, and the socket radiates agony with every beat of my heart. And yet somehow I'm moving, pushing up onto my knees and then my feet. Swaying there, barely upright, I get my first proper look at the squad. And their faces almost finish me. There is nothing but horror in those expressions. I can't imagine what I must look like. Armless, stabbed through the leg, with nothing but gristle and shredded metal where my linked eye used to be. Tikal has turned away, as though she can't bear to see what I’ve become.

  Closing my thoughts against the future, I take a step in the here and now. The others gasp, but no one says anything. The wall is right there. I pick a gap between branches, and push myself into it. The world goes gray for a second. Then I turn onto my side, stump up, and start to move. Pushing with my legs, pulling with my arm, the squad helping me where they can. But it's mostly on me. The banyan is so dense that every meter is a puzzle - one that only I can solve. The sounds of a dying city fade away. There is only the tree, and the struggle, and the pain.

  Every few minutes, I hit my stump against a branch. Then I have to stop until the agony recedes. An hour passes. More. Deep inside the wall, we reach an area that is more open than the rest. Somewhere, I hear a familiar clacking. The others disappear, return, vanish again. A child’s voice is speaking in my ear, but I can't understand the words. I fall asleep, and wake to Francis pulling me along by the arm. He can't put weight on his bad foot though, and we're barely moving. The clacking sounds are gone, and the others have come back - some bearing new wounds. I find a tenth wind.

  “You're almost there.” Peace says, much later. Her voice is raw and cracked; I can almost taste the blood in her throat. “Come on, Anex. Delez is somewhere back there. I can't lose you too. I'll go insane again - for good, this time.”

  My armor is gone. Stripped off, by me or my friends, I don't know which. I can't stop thinking about all the people I've failed. Kalana, Shion, and all of their people. My daughter. Rajani, and now the Gravs. I only wanted to help, to make a difference. But the harder I try, the more people die. At least this time I got hurt too. And what should we do now? Return to Opacity and beg Shion to surrender? Give Delez up for lost and keep fighting? Or I could just crawl into a hole and die. It would be so easy, in this dark place, and then my troubles would finally be over.

  A moment comes when I reach out for the next branch, and my hand touches mud instead. Stars map the sky overhead. There was a time when so much open space would have terrified me. Now I feel nothing at all. Maybe I've been nullified without knowing it. And would that really be so bad? Never having to feel guilt again, or the kind of love that leads so quickly to fear? Fear of losing that person, of letting them down when they need you. Is that how Tikal feels right now? Or is she disgusted by this disfigured version of me?

  “Who has something left in the tank?”

  “I might.”

  “Then me and you will carry him first.”

  I have no idea who's speaking. Someone dribbles water into my mouth, and then I'm being lifted into the air. The swamp smell mixes with that of smoke. My eye drifts in and out of focus, lost without its partner. But we're through the wall at least, which is further than I should have made it.

  “Where are we going?” Francis asks later. I think it's him, anyway.

  “To Worldpool.” Peace replies. “Anex needs a surgeon yesterday, and it's the closest place that might take us in. I still can't believe he made it through the banyan.”

  “God, that was awful to watch.”

  The two of them talk a while longer. Lucy joins in as well, but I don't hear a word from Tikal. Clarity fades.

  “Dad. Dad, please answer me.”

  What is this little voice inside my ear? The beginnings of insanity, probably. This particular madness sounds familiar, though.

  “Sophie?”

  A sob. “Oh my god. Dad, what happened? That woman attacked you, and... your feed went dark. Half the city thinks you're dead.”

  “Not yet, Sophie. My friends saved me, and we escaped from Medival together.”

  “That's great, Dad. Really great. Will you come home now? Shion is calling for your head, but most of Opacity likes you better, and Mom will take you in for sure.”

  “I can't come back. Not yet.”

  “Why not?” She's crying now.

  “Because I'm hurt. We're going to Worldpool for help.”

  “Oh. Is it - is it bad? And don't lie to me. I'll know.”

  “Yes Sophie, it's bad. But I'm doing my best. What about you, though. Are you safe?”

  “Yes. Things are fine in the Hive, mostly. But Opacity isn't doing so good. There's rioting right up into the 200s. Everyone thinks the Null are on their way.” She hesitates. “What sho
uld we do if they come here? I don't want Delez to die, but...”

  “I know. And I don't have any answers. But it's out of my hands now anyway. Listen, if I don't make it back, I just want you to know that -”

  “No! I won't listen to this. I want you to promise me you'll come home. Right now, or I'm hanging up.”

  “Sophie, I can't do that.”

  There is a soft click, and she's gone.

  .

  The next time I awaken, we are back in the desert. It's early morning, but the sand is already hoarding the sun's heat. I am even hotter, though. The fever is strong, the worst I've ever experienced. My skin is painful to the touch, and I can't hold a train of thought. We're still moving - haven't stopped all night, I suspect. The dunes are playing tricks on me. I keep seeing Eaters from Hardway in the distance, but these steel centipedes have pincered mandibles and hungry mouths. Hours pass before it occurs to me that I'm hallucinating. The sun passes its zenith, and still we press on. I've seen Francis fall half a dozen times. My stump itches horribly. But this sensation is slowly replaced by a darker sort of pain, one that I associate with infection. I don't have much longer.

  Only as night falls do I notice the white pyramid on the horizon. Francis and Peace are too weak to carry me now. Which leaves only Tikal and Lucy. The strain eventually becomes too much, and they are forced to stop. But we're so close. The pyramid straddles the skyline now, and it feels like one more dune is all that stands between us. A manic glee seizes me, and I start to laugh. Why have my friends been carrying me? Did I get drunk and stumble into the desert? Sounds like something I would do. Well I'm feeling better now, so maybe I can find the way back out.

  Darkness follows, and then I'm walking. Up and up the face of an epic dune, my friends beside me. Some part of me knows that I'm delirious. Knows too, that this is the end. But I make the summit and there they are: the basin and the moat and the pure white pyramid.

  I'm running. The others too. This is the finish line. Go big or go home, wherever that is. The sun is gone, but the nanovax ring reflects the moon, so brightly that every detail is crystal clear. I reach the edge. Lying down, I give myself a minute to rest before the swim. Just one quick minute, and then I'll be ready to go...

  .

  Someone jabs me with a needle - I don't think for the first time. I'm on a stretcher, being pushed through Worldpool's outer pyramid. The Jungle looks different. Most of the servers have been shut down, and it's cooler than I remember. Somewhere in the distance, an alarm is going off, soft but insistent. Server monkeys in yellow jumpsuits are everywhere. There is an urgency to them, and many carry prized possessions in their arms, but they lack direction and purpose.

  There is a man at my side. He looks familiar, but it takes a moment to place him. It's Fabian, the administrator who helped us the last time we were here. Whatever was in that needle is cutting my fever, but the pain is flooding back too. Leg wound; phantom arm; head full of retcom shrapnel - each wound vies for attention. When he sees that I'm awake, the admin starts to speak without slowing his pace.

  “Just hang in there a little longer, okay?” His voice is strained, as though he's barely keeping panic at bay. “I'm taking you to the top of the pyramid, where the Colonizer's real body is kept. They have top-of-the-line medical equipment up there. We're unfreezing a surgeon for you as well. It's been a while since she operated on anyone in the Real, but beggars can't be choosers, right?” He laughs, high and shrill, and then stops. “God, I'm sorry. It's just that... never mind. You're going to be alright. Yes, alright.”

  “My friends...”

  “They wanted to be here, but everyone is out preparing the defenses.”

  “Against who?”

  We pass into the tunnel that separates the outer pyramid from the inner. Repair submersibles float motionless above us. The admin watches them without expression.

  “I think you know.”

  “The Architect. Did we bring -”

  “No. The Colonizer has been expecting this ever since she escaped his stasis prison. You are merely a portent of our destruction, not its cause.”

  Exiting the tunnel, we emerge into the Worldpool cryobunker. It is barely recognizable. Thousands of pods stand open, rising up into the dim. Terrified faces peer down at me from the catwalks. Many haven't visited the Real for years. Their bodies will be weak; their minds, unused to authentic physics. If the Null break through Worldpool's defenses, these people will be like lambs to slaughter. They recognize me, I realize. Reactions range from adoration to empathy to hatred. But without exception, they flinch at the sight of my injuries. More eyes turn my way. And more, until an endless gallery stares down on me, silently horrified.

  Fabian wheels me past the catwalks and into an elevator. He pushes a button, and the door closes. As we ascend, I try to lean into the pain. Analyzing it, describing its intricacies in excruciating detail, if only to myself. But my pain receptors only tell half the story. It's like my amputation was a splitting point. Somewhere out there, in an alternate universe, there is an Anex who trusted Hera less, and moved just that little bit faster. The map of that man's life is still spread out before him, full of possibility. But mine lies in tatters. My future is broken, and nothing will ever be the same. That knowledge sits alongside the pain, lending it added weight. Peace used to say that I like to wallow in self-hatred. Well move over hatred, because there's a new kid in town. And self-pity don't mess around.

  The doors open. We are at the pyramid's summit. Transparent walls reveal the desert beyond, marching into sunblasted infinity. Fabian hurries me toward a medical bay door.

  “Wait! I need to see.”

  He freezes. “You don't want to do that.”

  “Just show me.”

  Without another word, the admin wheels me to the glass. Then he adjusts the stretcher so that I can look out properly.

  The Null have followed us. Or they always intended to come here next - it doesn't matter. And their numbers...

  Globetanks make up the front line. Nullification tankers sit behind them, with heavy transport trucks forming a third row. Soldiers are carrying bodies from the trucks to the tankers. Turning our former Grav allies into fresh meat for the war effort, I think. Ships of the airborne division wait in the sands beyond. All that stands between us is the nanovax moat, and the weapons system Tikal installed during our first visit.

  Oh, and a ragged line of defenders strung out along the moat's inner bank. Through a fugue of pain, I search our ranks for that familiar splash of crimson. But it is not there to see. Peace's blonde locks are also missing. Beside me, Fabian touches his ear.

  “No! His shoulder and eye are both infected. He needs surgery immediately. What? Fine, but be quick. This is your friend's life we're talking about.”

  Pulling a microbead from his ear, he places it in mine.

  “Anex! It's Francis. They're about to put you under. But if you're going to make it, you have to want to survive. So don't focus on the bad stuff, okay?” There are tears in his words, and his breath is coming fast. Across the moat, the Null are mobilizing. “Try to think about the good. Together, we repopulated the Hive. Together, we toppled a corrupt regime. Together, we saved a society from a deadly virus, and another from a surgically altered tyrant. Try to remember all of that, please? And don't worry about us. We're going to be fine. We always are.”

  I can feel myself drifting, and none of this is what I needed to hear. “Francis, where are Tikal and Peace?”

  Silence on the line. And then, “They're gone, Anex. It's just me and Lucy down here.”

  “Gone? Where?”

  “Peace went back for Delez. The Architect might be keeping him in Medival, so...”

  “And Tikal?”

  “Anex, I -”

  “Just tell me!”

  “I can't tell you what I don't know! If it wasn't for her, we would never have gotten you across the desert. But she barely spoke a word the whole time, and she wouldn't even look at you. I d
on't know if she blames herself, or... or what. And now her gear is gone. Nobody saw her leave.” He lets out a sob. “I'm so sorry, man. Everything's falling apart. Us, the world, all of it.”

  A gaping fissure is opening in my chest, but this is one of my best - my last - friends. And he's in pain.

  “It's alright, Francis. The world fell apart a long time ago. We're all just killing time in the ruins. And I don't blame Tikal for leaving. Nobody would want to be with what I am now.”

  “Don't talk like that, you asshole! There are prosthetics, surgeries. This is just a setback! You're going to be okay.”

  Out in the greenhouses, a siren starts to wail.

  “Oh god. They're coming, Anex. I have to go. Just remember what I told you. Focus on the good!”

  Then he's gone, and Fabian is rushing me into the medical bay. Three people wait for us there: two women and a man. Both women wear white scrubs and masks. The man is the Colonizer. In the flesh. His clothes are different than his projection's, but otherwise he looks almost the same. Bearded, heavyset, with bird-like eyes that dart over faces and objects in an incessant cycle.

  The medics lift me onto an operating table. The pain spikes, and I bite back a scream. One of them ties my remaining limbs down with straps. And then the Colonizer is at my side. His eyes are bloodshot, and broken veins stand out blue in the pouches beneath them.

  “Try to relax.” He murmurs. “You've done all you can. We all have. The Null will destroy everything I have built, or they will not. You will survive, or you will not. Only time will tell.”

  His frame is outlined by the operating lights. Now they flicker, and an explosion rocks the room. Glass shatters in the chamber outside. Superheated air rushes in, chasing out the antiseptic smell and replacing it with tar and oil. The Colonizer crouches over me, protecting my body out of some deep-rooted paternal instinct. Then he pulls back.

  “I have work to do. Good luck.”

  He departs, and Sophie enters my ear. “Dad, I'm sorry about hanging up on you before. I was trying to be motivational, but maybe tough love was the wrong way to go. So let's try this. I don't need you to promise you'll make it home, because I already know you will. You just have to keep fighting. And that's what you do, right? You're the Live Soldier. The War Star. A living legend with a daughter who loves him. Dad please, can you hear me?”