Variant: A science fiction thriller (The Predictive: Deep Space Fringe Wars Book 2)

by L. V. Lane

  “I know, but shit!”

  “Marik!” I pressed my fingers to his arm, bringing a halt to his manic pacing.

  The rapid pounding on the door startled us both, and a muffled voice called, “Marik, are you in there?”

  We turned to each other.

  “I screwed up the package again,” Marik called. “I’m helping Eva sort it out on the quiet. Whatever you do, don’t tell Jax. This is the third time and Mr. Magnificent is going to be pissed if he finds out!”

  My brows drew together. Marik grinned and shrugged as the footsteps faded away. “Your boyfriend is irritatingly perfect. Well, one of them, the other one is not so bad.”

  I blinked several times wondering how he’d morphed so swiftly from manic pacing to this relaxed state of banter.

  “He’s going to go straight to Jax,” Marik continued. “There’s only one thing I like less than Mr. Magnificent and that’s Mr. Magnificent’s ass-licker. John is predictable.”

  The sound of rapid footsteps approaching, I shot a glance toward the door. Marik gave me a knowing wink.

  Seconds later, another pounding resounded on the door. “Why is this locked? Eva, open the damn door. That supply run needs to go out ASAP!”

  “He’ll, err—” Marik grabbed the collar from my limp fingers, shoved it in the box, and snapped it shut just as the door sprung open. “Use the override key,” Marik finished as we both stared at Jax.

  My face must have been frozen in guilt.

  Marik was wearing a cocky grin.

  I looked beyond Jax, and seeing no one nearby, dragged forth the power afforded to my former position. “Jax, I’ve had a prediction. Please, come inside and close the door.”

  His face went from pissed to serious in a heartbeat. Without turning to look, his palm hit the plate at the side of the door. “What’s happened?” He placed his hands on his hips shooting a look between the two of us.

  “There isn’t an easy way to say this. I’m trusting you both.” I tried to convey the seriousness of the situation. Neither of them were equipped to deal with what I was about to say.

  “You mean there’s more to this than the collars?” Marik said.

  “What collars?” Jax demanded.

  “Jax!” my snapped command brought them both up. It felt good to be myself. “The Federation are here, in this camp, in all the camps maybe. The seventeen percent with flu and stomach sickness are Federation. They are here now.” I took the single step to the box, aware of the stillness from the two men as I lifted the lid and drew out the collar. “They are here among us and they brought collars. I don’t know what they plan to do or when, but it seems likely they are seeking to control this colony by controlling us. I don’t know why they haven’t acted yet. They will act, though.”

  “Jeez,” Jax said. “Your timing is a little off. You know Landon and Eric are away.” He swore and his eyes hardened. “One of my team members is sick.”

  “Two of mine,” Marik said.

  Jax regarded the collar with dead eyes. “How many are there?”

  “I don’t know… several hundred may be in this box. The label says five hundred, but it could be fake. The contents certainly aren’t ‘component construction material’.” I pointed toward the back of the store. “I can see six, but there may be more. I’d ignored them, assuming they must have already been on the transports and that no one had time to swap them out for useful supplies.”

  Jax’s face was pale under the dull interior lights. “Do we have a tally of these? Are any missing?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ll have to check.”

  “Some of the satellite camps are remote,” Marik said, drawing both our attention. “It’s possible they are locking us down one at a time.”

  Trigger.

  Prediction: “It’s imminent. An attack is imminent. No more than days before they make a move.”

  “We need to warn Landon and Eric,” Marik said.

  “Agreed, but we’ll need to prepare a couple of teams,” Jax replied. “Landon left to search for the third transport two days ago. Comms were sporadic in the chasm even when he was close. Eric is days away in the forest, so not a chance of getting a hold of him.”

  “I’ll pull a couple of teams together,” Marik said. “What the hell do you want me to do with the Federation bastards in my team? I can’t take them with me.” He instinctively looked to Jax for answers.

  “You will take them with you,” Jax replied, all business. “We start separating even a few of them out and the rest will become suspicious. You’ll have to handle them once you’re outside the camp. We’ve no idea how many of these collars are gone. Shit, they could have half the colony under control. We’ll need to destroy the collars here. Eva, I need a tally on the boxes. If any are missing, where they went and when. Base-44 has had widespread illness for months. We’ll need to make plans for it once Eric’s in the loop.”

  “Eric’s already there,” I pointed out softly.

  Jax shook his head in a slow silent, no.

  “I’m going.” Marik’s tone was low and deadly as he strode for the door.

  “He’ll be there by now,” Jax said, bringing Marik’s march to a stop.

  “I don’t care.” Marik looked over his shoulder. “I’m not leaving him there. And he’s got Rachel with him.”

  “Fine.” Jax pointed at Marik’s rifle. “But if you’re going, you’re going to need some decent kit.”

  “We don’t have any decent kit. Trust me, if there was any, I would have found it.”

  “Ah,” Jax said grinning. “Then I guess you don’t want to know about Landon’s secret stash.”

  Jax left with Marik, promising to return soon. After checking the data, I identified all the boxes. Exactly twelve boxes had been removed, assigned to the secondary base camp where Eric was now, and where Marik had left for.

  There were six boxes in my store transport. Each box held five hundred collars.

  It was evening by the time Jax returned with a small team. “Why don’t you get some rest?” he said. “We’re going to destroy the collars. Reeve’s outside, she’s going to keep a discreet watch. Marik has already left, and I’ve sent a team to fetch Landon.”

  “How many Marines do we have left that we can trust?” I asked.

  “We’re down to forty-six.”

  That wasn’t a lot in a camp of nearly five hundred. I nodded, leaving Jax to the task, and relieved to know the collars would soon be destroyed.

  The prediction beat down on me from every angle as I walked back into the center of the camp. The sensation of imminent danger was stifling, and the price of behaving normally, high. I worried for Landon, a sharp and insistent pressure at the base of my skull telling me all was not well there.

  As I walked down the transport ramp, I noticed Reeve talking to another Marine. Her focus was on the man she spoke to, but she noted my discreet attention. My guard. I was off the Federation’s radar since they thought I couldn’t predict, and I must do nothing to change that.

  The evening sky was cloudy bringing a premature onset of darkness. A flock of blue-gray parrots had commandeered a nearby tree in the hundreds, and their chattering produced an ear-grating din. It has begun. It was happening right now around me, the planning and even the acting. The danger was so prevalent, I could taste it in the air. On my periphery, I noticed Reeve break away from her conversation to follow me.

  Without conscious thought, my steps took me in the direction of the Technologist’s transport where I hoped Riley would be found. We hadn’t spoken since Landon had ordered us to his transport-office and chewed me out for asking Jax to watch her. Suddenly, I was gripped by a fierce need for her gentle presence. Lost in my own thoughts, I nearly collided with Cathy.

  “Both lost in thought, eh?” Cathy said.

  Cathy wasn’t her usual self, there was an underlying sense of sobriety emanating from her that I’d never witnessed before. I told myself that everyone was unhappy presentl
y, yet I asked the question anyway. “Are you okay, Cathy?”

  She shook her head, lips tight as if determined to keep whatever troubled her private.

  To my left, another Marine approached Reeve and they fell into conversation.

  Cathy sighed. “It’s Riley. I wish you were still predicting. You know she’s up to something, don’t you? That’s why Landon had you watching her. I always had my suspicions, but now…”

  Trigger.

  I felt that cold sinking sensation that said things were sliding once again. There was no sign of illness in the woman and so, one way or another, she would come to understand for herself that Riley was no threat. I wanted to confide in Cathy, but this wasn’t the time or place to do so. Not with the whole truth anyway. Still, there were parts I could say, words I wished I’d said that fateful day back on the ship before the craziness had begun. “Cathy, there is no artifice in Riley, no ill intent, and no subterfuge. She is exactly as she seems, a former Federation member who was of the lowest caste. They treated her little better than a slave. She had no rights, no freedom, and no free will. She witnessed grave atrocities and escaped at great personal cost.”

  Cathy’s face crumbled, and her inner turmoil shone out. “But you’re not predicting. How can you be sure?”

  My eyes searched Cathy’s. I tried to pour all my belief in Riley into that look. “No, I’m not now. But I was then.”

  Cathy’s breath caught. Her face stark in the fading light. “There has been unpleasantness toward her. I convinced myself she deserved it. Are you certain?” Her eyes glistened with hope and guilt. “I treated her unkindly. I was jealous of her capability, and bitter for what the Federation did to us.” She drew a deep ragged breath in and whispered, “What have I done?”

  I offered an encouraging smile, soothed by Cathy’s admission and genuine remorse. One person at a time, that is how you conquered prejudice, one person at a time. “Our mistakes allow us to grow. We all make mistakes. Goodness knows I have made many myself.” I was thinking of Edson-46, a space station and home to many personnel. At least, it was until it was obliterated. “Let go of the failing. I know that Riley will hold no grudge.”

  We all made mistakes, and we all deserved a second chance. I had failed with Edson-46. I had failed at Nammu, too. But I would not fail here.

  “If you could bring yourself not to hate her, I know she would welcome that. And if one day, that could lead to friendship, she would welcome that even more.” I was distantly aware of Cathy’s nod, but a disturbance came from behind and I glanced over my shoulder to see Reeve and my companion running toward the tree line.

  “It’s probably another one of those big cats,” Cathy said, drawing my attention back to her.

  Or a Federation attack?

  “We should head for our tents,” Cathy continued. “They don’t like us out late and it’s starting to get dark.”

  A group of people heading for the commandeered technology transport snagged my attention. Four walked inside while three took up positions outside at the base of the ramp. Why would they do that? I looked back to the trees where Reeve had disappeared, but there was no sign of her now.

  Trigger. Trigger. Trigger.

  “Where’s Riley?”

  “Still in the transport.” Cathy glanced over her shoulder.

  I caught her arm, stilling her. “We need help.” The area was too quiet. Riley often worked late and alone, no one was around to notice what was happening.

  “Help? What is it?”

  “Trouble.” It became impossible to articulate myself through the crushing fears. “Please, find Reeve or Jax.”

  Cathy’s eyes widened. “Have you had a prediction?”

  “I’ve had many. We need help in the technology transport.” I tightened my hold when Cathy went to rush. “Steady.”

  “What—what are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Stop them.” My eyes settled on the transport. I felt my lips tremble and fluttery panic in my core. Were they hurting Riley in there? They must be, why else would they place guards?

  “You can’t,” Cathy said. “Not alone. Let me come with you.”

  I released her arm with what I hoped was a reassuring squeeze as our eyes met and held. “Please, do as I ask,” I pleaded. I knew I was relying on my former authority, that people presumed I knew what was best, that a prediction was at work. In truth, I didn’t always. Sometimes, I was an ordinary person doing what I thought was right.

  Cathy’s sharp exhale held anguish, but she nodded and left.

  With my heart pounding, palms damp, and a terrifying understanding of what was unfolding within the transport, I took the steps toward where Riley would be found. I hadn’t worn shell armor for many days, nor did I carry a weapon. But if I waited, Riley might be dead. No one was ever there for her. Even here, we had treated her like a threat. As I neared the transport, I slowed. The three guarding the entrance stopped their conversation and all eyes turned my way. Now that I was here, I had no idea what to do.

  “What do you want?” the man to the left of the ramp asked. There was no evidence of illness on his face, nor in either of his companions. I’d presumed this was part of the Federation’s plans, but now, I thought it might be the work of frightened fools.

  I prayed for the call to come that signified the arrival of Reeve or Jax, but I couldn’t wait for help, nor could I afford to look away. Terrible things might be happening inside, but these weren’t Technologists.

  I went to walk in.

  They stepped to block my path.

  Fury filled me. “You should leave. You don’t need to do this. Riley is no threat.”

  “Last I heard, you’re nothing special. And your predictive days are over,” the woman to the center said, her eyes narrowing with contempt. “This doesn’t concern you.”

  “She’s sleeping with Jax,” the one on the right said. “The bitch will snitch.”

  My scream caught in my throat as a hand clamped over my mouth. Too easily, I was hauled up the transport ramp. “This just got real messy real fast,” someone muttered.

  I fought wildly, biting down on the hand, kicking, and thrashing. Without combat training, I was easily subdued. Passing through the cargo door, they stopped.

  “Eva?” Riley said, her voice slurred as she blinked blood from her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

  The man who stood in front of her turned, frowning as he noticed me. “Welcome to the party.” He gestured at the man holding me. “Time to move out. Remove her wrist plate, we’re taking her with us.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Landon

  I HAD SPENT the last three days in the chasm with a small team, going through the motions of searching for supplies.

  Parking the transport about five hundred out from T-14 and T-50, we spent the subsequent day rifling through the wreckage. The T-14 had been mostly personnel, so there wasn’t much in the way of useful supplies. Four crates of rations and two of medical supplies, while better than nothing, wasn’t a great yield.

  T-50 was burnt out, and all we found was destruction and the picked-bare bones of the military personnel who’d had the misfortune to be on board.

  No one was happy. The rewards were poor, and the weather was hot and muggy, interspersed by the occasional torrential downpour. The foaming river thundered over boulders, blanketing the area in a perpetual spray that hampered our efforts. And we were always hungry.

  By no stretch of the imagination could this be considered a ‘fun’ task.

  A disproportionate amount of whining was also going on, and I suffered an increasing desire to shoot the next idiot who opened their mouth. Yes, it was technically illegal, but that hadn’t always stopped me.

  After stacking the useful findings on our transport, we’d then trekked for two full days along the river bank to where the third transport rested in the hope it might deliver better results.

  Trekked, because there was nowhere near that we could safely lan
d a transport.

  It rained three times during this procession. Rain was an unpleasant experience anywhere on this godforsaken planet, but was made worse on the river side by the lack of shelter.

  As was inevitable, a fight broke out between two men.

  I looked on. The rest of the team appeared torn between watching the drama unfold and eyeing me for signs of direction before ‘getting involved’. Rain hammered down making the dirty shale slippy, and the two men punched each other with all the energy of angry sloths.

  “Should we—ah—separate them, sir?” Carlson, one of my non-whiny team members, ventured to ask. He was a brute of a man with a square jaw covered by a questionable excuse of a beard and lived in evidence that some genetic defects had slipped through the net.

  I shook my head.

  Eventually, and after longer than I would have given them credit for, the two men slumped exhausted to the ground without any need for intervention.

  I pulled out my gun and took aim. With the exception of the two exhausted men, everyone dived for cover. The blast hit the ground mere paces away from where they had collapsed, sending a spray of shattered shale.

  They leapt to their feet and pivoted to face me.

  “Luckily for you, I’m not a great shot.” I let that sink in as they blinked back through the pounding rain, their eyes gleaming with fear and murder as they tried to decide if I was making a point or being serious.

  Once upon a time, I had been a terrible shot, and had been known to miss a target at twenty paces. Ten paces or less was fine. Eric had disparaged my poor marksmanship on many an occasion. Ever since the Ila microbe latched on to me, my hand-eye coordination, spatial awareness, and vision in general were astounding. It went way beyond that, though. Instinctively, I knew if it were possible to hit a target, I would.

  Still, I was inclined to keep my changes to myself. Victor would be in for a surprise if he thought I was letting the ancient doctor with the bug-eye glasses poke at me again. And I’d be having words with him for giving that paper over to Eva.

  As I holstered the gun, they cut a nervous glance my way before snatching up their scattered belongings. The one on the right fingered a crack in his helmet but catching my stony regard, he stuffed it onto his head.