Allegiance

by Nicholas Sansbury Smith

  He was still shocked at the kid’s stunt. After Ted regained consciousness, the team leaders had given him a serious ass-chewing, stripped him of his armor, and reassigned him to his new job: mucking out the livestock pens for the next month.

  “Soon, they will be tested, like your divers,” Rhino said of the trainees below.

  “Not too soon, let’s hope. Looks like some of them are just kids.”

  “They’re all of age, and this is part of their culture,” Rhino said. “When they complete the first round of training, we’ll weigh anchor and set off for the proving grounds, where mutant beasts and poisonous flora will test their skills.”

  “What doesn’t kill them makes them stronger, eh?” The adage was generally true for Hell Divers, too.

  “Most of them already know how to fight, as you may have noticed with Felipe on your way down,” Rhino said. “Now we figure out who the real warriors are.”

  The distant roll of thunder drew their eyes east, where lightning flickered from the dark base of a towering cloud bank.

  “That doesn’t look good,” X said.

  The clang of metal on metal signaled the start of the first matches. The sparring brought shouts and cheers. These youths would join an army of over a thousand warriors spread out over the oil rigs, outposts, and remaining fleet of warships.

  X couldn’t see them, but the Lion, Mercury, and Star Grazer all cruised outside the barrier of the Vanguard Islands. Each was manned by a hundred sailors and soldiers, patrolling for defectors and other threats.

  The clank of metal and wood on the deck was another reminder of how outnumbered X and his people were. Lieutenant Sloan and her new sergeant, Wynn, were doing a fine job. Recruiting sky people who needed jobs since the Hive’s decommissioning, they had grown the militia’s ranks to just under a hundred, but the disparity was still huge. Even with almost a fourth of the sky people serving in the army, if the Cazadores decided to break the truce, they would have an overwhelming advantage in numbers.

  A boat pulled up alongside the warship, and a dozen more Cazador warriors climbed a rope net to the first deck. These weren’t just grunts, either. The rest of the Black Order of Octopus Lords had arrived.

  General Santiago, Colonel Forge, and Colonel Moreto set off across the deck with a squad of warriors in full armor. Black capes fluttered behind Forge’s and Moreto’s shoulders. Santiago’s cape was blazing orange.

  Escorting the officers were eight Praetorian Guards in black armor.

  “What are they here for?” X asked.

  “To have a look at the ‘fresh meat,’ as you called them,” Rhino said.

  X suddenly didn’t feel so safe. He hadn’t even told Sloan or Wynn he was coming here. But a glance at the sky eased his mind.

  Discovery hovered at three thousand feet above the water. The ship could strike at a moment’s notice with a variety of missiles, bombs, and twenty-millimeter Minigun fire on any Cazador ship that might threaten it.

  And X had made sure all antiaircraft weapons on the islands were under his control. The thirty-millimeter cannons were now manned by several of his most trusted militia soldiers.

  The Cazadores had the numbers, but the sky people had the firepower.

  “So, you going to tell me why you’re really here?” Rhino said.

  “You don’t miss much, do you?” X said. “That’s why I like you.”

  “Thank you, King Xavier.”

  X sighed, wondering whether he was making the right decision. The only way to know was to ask for advice—and then try to listen to it, for once.

  “We fought together to take this place back from a mad king,” X said. “You helped my people even when it meant fighting your own, and now I need your help again.”

  “I serve at your pleasure,” Rhino said, bowing slightly.

  “I appreciate that.”

  “I saw, and see, a great warrior in you, Immortal. You are the only one who can lead both our peoples to prosperity. Tell me what I must do, and I will do it.”

  “I want you to lead an expedition by sea to Rio de Janeiro.”

  The thick brows squeezed together. “King Xavier, I am honored to be considered for this mission, but I do not think leaving your side would be a good idea.”

  “I know I have enemies,” X said, glancing at the officers on deck. “I see the way some of them look at me. Even the new warriors are suspicious.”

  Colonel Vargas joined the other officers on the deck. They all were looking out over the rail at two speedboats flanking a fishing boat. The three vessels appeared to be heading for the warship Elysium.

  “Who’s that?” X asked.

  “The first challengers.”

  “Challengers …” X spotted cages on the deck of the fishing boat, and he wasn’t surprised to see the pale, dead-looking flesh moving inside them.

  Rhino said, “I will have to oversee this personally, King Xavier.”

  X nodded. “We can discuss this mission later. Meet me at the capitol rig when you finish here.”

  Rhino thumped his chest. “I’ll make sure you get to a boat safely.”

  X laughed at that. “Brother, I’ll be fine.”

  “I know, but I’m coming anyway.”

  They walked back to the deck where the two hundred youngsters, some of them bloody now, stood at attention. A crane had lowered chains to the fishing boat. Once they were secure, the first cage rose from the boat.

  The Cazador officers walked over to watch. They nodded to X—all but Vargas, who looked away.

  A muffled screech came from the Sirens inside the rising cage. The veterans operating the crane swung the load onto the deck.

  “Back, back!” Rhino yelled.

  The trainees didn’t need to hear it twice, not even Felipe. But like the Cazador officers, the boy wasn’t looking at the Sirens. They were staring at X.

  He took in a deep breath, filling his lungs. He would never grow tired of the fresh salt air. After a decade in the wastes, this was as close to heaven as he had ever been.

  And it was why he had to do this.

  X gave Rhino his helmet. “I’ll take the first one,” he said. “Tell them to hold the second cage on the boat below.”

  “¿Qué?” Rhino said. “I mean, what?”

  X gestured for the sword on the belt of a veteran standing a few feet away. The soldier unsheathed it and handed it over.

  “The knife, too,” X said.

  He tucked the knife under a strap on his armor, then walked toward the cage as two veterans guided it down.

  Rhino called out orders in Spanish.

  The cage clanked onto the deck, and the veterans picked up the same black electrical cattle prods they had used on X back in Florida.

  He readied his sword and nodded at the two men. Neither looked to Rhino for approval. At least they respected him. Now it was time to earn the respect of these youngsters.

  All the trainees were hanging on his every move, and while the eyeless female Siren couldn’t see him, it could hear and smell him just fine.

  It sniffed the air, tilting its head as he moved. Listening, sensing, anticipating.

  They were matchless hunters, designed to survive in a postapocalyptic world—the ultimate cazadores.

  Dropping to all fours, the beast moved with his steps, sinewy muscles flexing under pale, leathery skin.

  The gag in its mouth would prevent it from screaming or sinking those jagged teeth into his flesh, but there was nothing to stop the long razor-edged claws from slashing his throat or spilling his guts on the deck.

  The beasts hadn’t been fed in a month, though, and this one was clearly weakened, its ribs and bony back protruding. Even these genetically modified human descendants had to eat.

  One of the guards unlocked the cage, attracting the Siren’s attention. X rai
sed his sword. The instant the lock clicked, the monster slammed into the door, swinging it open.

  X would have finished the beast right away, but he had to put on a show, and the recruits needed to see how these creatures fought. So he pinked it on the arm, just enough to draw blood and piss the thing off.

  The monster slashed at the air, dangerously close to the crotch of his armor. X jumped back, prompting cheers and shouts from those assembled. He would have loved to see the look on Rhino’s face.

  A gust of wind sprayed X with rain as he drew the Siren away from the center of the deck, toward the bow. It followed him upright instead of on all fours, moving faster than he would have thought considering its weakened condition.

  The creature sprang through the air.

  X ducked and raised the tip of his sword from a squatting position, opening a gash in the creature’s belly as it vaulted over him.

  A muffled screech of agony followed as the beast landed and spun back toward him.

  X got up, wincing from a searing pain where a toe claw had slashed his forehead. With one eye closed, he retreated from the flopping monster. It struggled up onto all fours, then reached down with one hand to keep in the loop of intestine that bulged from its midsection.

  X felt the cut above his left eye—just a nick compared to the gash in the variant’s visceral wall.

  Panting and grunting, the creature struggled to remain on all fours. At first, X thought it was going to collapse, but then it must have gotten a whiff of something. All its muscles seemed to flex in a ripple across its body. The powerful hind legs sprang the injured beast upward, on top of a shipping container.

  X suddenly wondered whether starving these things had been the best idea. He moved backward with his sword up, ready for the monster to jump off the container.

  The rope of intestine flopped out from the open abdominal wound as the Siren leaped down onto the top of the crate. But instead of attacking X, it darted toward the youngsters. The crowd scattered, with screams and shouts in all directions.

  “Shit,” X muttered, pulling the knife from the armor strap at his hip. Closing one eye, he threw the blade by the hilt, end over end. The point sank into the beast’s right leg, and it crashed in a heap on the deck.

  X ran over to the thrashing monster, then sprang backward to avoid a slashing claw before bringing the sword tip down hard below the thickly armored forehead, right where an eye should be. The cracking sound merged with a peal of thunder, and when the noise passed, the deck was silent.

  Blood pooled around the dead Siren.

  “Bring up the other cage,” X said.

  Rhino nodded at the man on the crane, and the second cage clanked up over the railing and swung around.

  Sheets of rain quickly rinsed away most of the blood on the deck. X touched his scalp wound. It wasn’t just a nick, after all, and would probably need a couple of sutures. Another scar.

  Rhino shouted for everyone to back away from the new cage. Inside was a male Siren with its wings strapped down.

  X plucked the sword from the female’s skull and held the bloody blade flat to the rain.

  “Who’s next?” he shouted over the din of thunder. He held the sword out, offering it to each of the Cazador officers.

  Colonel Vargas grabbed the hilt and held it up to the sky, looking down the blade. He handed it back to X, then drew the sword from his own sheath.

  The colonel’s bulging eyes flitted to Rhino, and the sharp black teeth grinned.

  X half expected him to challenge Rhino. But instead, Vargas moved over to the cage and tapped the side with his blade.

  For now, Rhino and X seemed to have put to rest any potential challenges, but X had no illusions. It was only a matter of time before some crazy, ambitious bastard like Vargas tried to kill him and his loyal general.

  * * * * *

  First Ted’s dangerous little stunt, and now an intense storm that continued to strengthen.

  Magnolia just wanted to go back to her quarters and sleep with the rain pounding the shutters, but she was stuck on the container ship used for Hell Diver training.

  Waves slapped the vessel, and the pouring rain washed away the red chalk X had used to mark the landing spot for the Hell Divers in training.

  Discovery had rushed back to the islands several hours ago to avoid the lightning after taking a hit to its new shields. The explosion of sparks had been visible even down here.

  She walked over to Ada Winslow. The young lieutenant was helping make up for the lack of available officers while Timothy took her place on Discovery.

  “Hell of a storm,” she said.

  “Hell of a dive,” Magnolia replied. “Ted was just about shark bait.”

  “Probably the best use for that guy. Maybe X should have let him splat.”

  “What?” Magnolia said, glancing over.

  The lieutenant kept her gaze on the bow as it cleaved the waves. The darkness ahead seemed to lighten as they approached the border between their little paradise and the terrors of the outside world.

  Ada didn’t reply to her question, so Magnolia asked again.

  “You think X should have let Ted die?”

  This time, Ada looked over, her freckled features uncharacteristically hard.

  “No, not really, but I do think he should have killed the Cazadores when we took this place. If it were up to me, I would have killed every last soldier. I still don’t understand how X could let them keep their weapons.”

  The bow pushed through the barrier, and two oil rigs appeared in the distance. Magnolia felt a shiver of memory from her captivity, when she was in a cage on a ship, looking at these same two rigs.

  “Take us wide around those,” Ada told the officer at the helm.

  “No,” Magnolia said. “Let’s go right by them. I want to see something.”

  As the ship approached the rigs, Magnolia wasn’t sure what she wanted to see. Perhaps she was curious to see what had changed since the sky people took over, or perhaps it was just the human fascination with things different. Either way, they were about to get a good, close look.

  The large container ship sailed by the two outlying rigs, giving everyone on the bridge a view out the starboard portholes. Tarps fluttered in the wind and rain. Some were tied down over leaky shack roofs; others shaded crop seedlings that grew on the platforms. But by far the most important use of tarps was as catchment areas, sluicing rainwater into thousand-gallon cisterns, which stored it for drinking, bathing, and cleaning. The intricate system of reservoirs and pipes reminded her that these people weren’t barbarians, despite their appearances and violent culture.

  When Magnolia had sailed underneath them months ago as a prisoner, hundreds of people were staring down at her from a bridge that stretched between the two rigs. She remembered their heavily tattooed bronze flesh, the clacking teeth, and the stares. It was like discovering an alien race, and she had been the alien.

  Now most of the Cazador people were sheltering inside their shacks. Only a few came out to watch the ship pass. Ada folded her arms over her chest and watched a group that had gathered on the fifth level of the open platforms. The men held spears, and one woman had a pitchfork.

  They stood at the edge of the platform, looking as if they were about to be invaded.

  “Barbarians,” Ada muttered. “X should have taken every weapon at the very freaking least, and he should have killed the warriors, especially the Black Octopus Gods or whatever bullshit they call themselves.”

  Magnolia didn’t necessarily disagree with Ada’s assessment, but X had made his decision in hopes of keeping the peace, aware that other threats still lurked out there. If the defectors did find this place, they would need every Cazador to help in the fight.

  “We need them,” Magnolia said quietly.

  “For what?” Ada said. “What can a woma
n with a pitchfork do against one of those machines?”

  “They don’t all have pitchforks, Lieutenant.”

  “Yeah, well, she does,” Ada said.

  The woman continued to watch from the platform as the boat sailed by. At the sight of the next rig, Magnolia’s breath caught. She remembered this place well. The two-story structure was a warehouse and salting and drying rack for fish and livestock the Cazadores butchered.

  But there would never again be dolphins hanging from those hooks. One of X’s first royal decrees had been to outlaw the killing of those intelligent creatures.

  A chill rushed through her mind as she continued reliving the day of her capture. After the boat had passed the rigs, she recalled seeing a container ship with a deck full of caged Sirens—the same container ship she was on today.

  The crackle of radio static snapped her out of her reverie.

  Ada moved over to the comm station.

  “Lieutenant Winslow, it’s Captain Mitchells,” said Les. “What’s your location? Over.”

  “About twenty minutes southwest of the capitol tower, Captain.”

  “The storm’s getting worse, and I’ve got new orders from King Xavier,” Les said. “Meet me back at the capitol tower. We’ve been ordered to take Discovery beyond the barrier, to check on the Cazador ships patrolling the frontier.”

  She paused, holding the receiver up to her lips.

  “Lieutenant,” Les said.

  “Copy that,” she said. “We’ll be there.”

  Ada put the receiver down and shook her head. She muttered under her breath, but Magnolia heard every word.

  “Waste of fuel checking on those dumb ships,” Ada said. “Makes me wonder whose side X is really on.”

  SIX

  The wail of an air-raid siren rose over the howling wind and the rain pounding the docks.

  Michael hated that sound as much as any other sky person. In the air, it awoke the visceral fear of crashing to the surface, but on the oil rigs, it meant war or a hurricane. Luckily, today it meant the latter—if a hurricane qualified as lucky.

  “How did we not see this coming?” Rodger yelled over the howling wind.