by A W Wang
Twisting my head, I get Ally’s attention and have her move to a flanking position to widen our field of fire. Then I turn to Jock.
“Jock,” I yell, waving my hand at him.
Caught in a battle rage, he stays myopically focused on the firefight.
The enemy leader turns his scrutiny to us and advances, slicing from cover to cover while minimizing his profile.
I curse; he’s a six sigma.
Jock empties his thirty-round magazine, forcing the man to dive behind a low bramble-topped embankment. The stray bullets take down one of the ambushers near him, her body exploding from multiple hits. Jock moves to the next tree, reloading and shooting in amazing time.
Behind the scant cover provided by the tree line, I trail after him, desperately trying to get his attention. The pace of the battle is accelerating, and now isn’t the time to be impulsive. Especially against an elite enemy.
One of Suri’s group, a replacement, goes down screaming. Their position is getting overrun.
Jock jumps past the protecting trees and sloshes into the exposed terrain.
I chase after him, but my feet can’t move quickly enough through the muck.
With his AK chattering, Jock peppers the ground around the six sigma, who coolly hunkers behind his protection.
After a few steps, taking an eternity to cover, I’m close enough to tackle him.
Just as I leap, Jock reloads, and the six sigma rises to a knee firing a trio of shots. My over-hyped imagination thinks it can follow the tracks of the projectiles. Of course, that’s impossible.
The frozen instant passes and the bullets arrive. The first heavy slug spears into the center of Jock’s chest. His body jerks backward. The second whistles past my ear as I knock him aside. The third splinters my leg, and I shriek as we tumble into the shallow water.
Despite the pain, I force my hands to keep Jock’s face above the waterline. His eyes are unresponsive and gaze skyward.
More firing erupts.
I peek over a patch of brown weeds.
Syd has appeared. With impossibly swift movements, he’s among the ambushers in a flash. The six sigma falls in a gory trail of splashes. With their leader gone, the enemy resistance breaks, the survivors scampering in full retreat over the low tufts of vegetation.
The water ripples as someone approaches. A moment later, Ally kneels next to me, her face masked with concern.
“Help Jock,” I say.
Ally glances at him then shakes her head. “Let’s stop the bleeding from your leg first.”
Looking down, I gasp. Blood pours from the wound, pooling around the green algae. The bullet has shattered my femur and the leg kinks at an odd angle. My head feels woozy looking at the massive pools of red tainting the water.
After pulling out her med kit, she grabs a rubber tube and wraps it around my thigh near the pelvis. She knots the ends over the handle of her knife and twists, the tube tightening enough for me to wince. It’s fortunate that I only need to survive. In real life, the mangled leg would be amputated.
I don’t care.
“Jock’s dying. Kill them, quickly,” I say, fighting dizziness.
Ally returns my stare with sadness in her pale blue eyes. Then a resigned smile appears on her face. She quickly nods and rushes toward the finale of the scenario.
Water sputters from Jock’s mouth as his nose sinks below the murky surface.
I adjust my position to prop his head high and lean myself next to his ear.
His blood-laden cough spews over my cheeks. “I’m not going to make it,” he says in a weak voice. “I can’t feel anything. Everything’s so dark and cold.”
“No. You need to concentrate.”
His body trembles as he goes into shock.
“Jock. Listen to me. Concentrate on staying awake.”
The warmth of the morning sun spills over us as his eyes, still staring at the blue dome, lose focus.
My leg throbs in agony and I feel lightheaded from the loss of blood. I’m so tired, but I force myself to speak.
“Jock, the blue dome’s right above you. It’s beautiful, and you said it’s the way out of this place. That’s what you said. Never lose sight of what’s beyond the blue dome.
“Remember the walks we took when we got to this world? The clean air and wonderful views that reminded you of the mountains of West Virginia? That’s your true home and what waits for you on the other side. You want to go there don’t you?”
Although I remember more about his life than he does, the edges of his lips rise into a faint smile.
“I can’t lose another friend. I can’t lose you too. You have the optimism and confidence I don’t have.”
His body shudders and stills.
“Jock?”
My eyes moisten when there is no response.
Besides the heavy chatter of guns battling in the distance, the swamp is quiet—almost peaceful.
Although Jock’s gone, I hold him tightly, unable to let him slip under the water. His unseeing eyes deserve a few moments of looking at his way home.
My decision got him killed. I’m not sure what I could have done differently, but it’s my fault. Lips trembling from fighting back a cascade of tears, I release a tiny sniffle.
Minutes pass before the final gunshots fade into silence.
As the golden flecks of static crawl over my form, I press my lips against his cheek and give him a kiss before the world disappears.
Shaking with self-loathing, I arrive in the ready room.
Five of us fill the chairs, Suri, Walt, Vela, and Syd. We weren’t fast enough for Jock.
Ally’s seat is empty. It’s not possible. She was healthy and chasing down the last enemies.
As my eyes stare in disbelief, I know the oversight will be corrected. I concentrate on the oval back of her chair, willing the pale girl to materialize. Just one more time I want to see her freckled face and too cute smile.
Nothing happens because the virtual overlords do not make errors of that magnitude.
Surrendering to the inevitable, I slump. Ally is a casualty from my orders to pursue with abandon in a futile effort to save Jock.
Although I gave them a choice and they volunteered, their deaths are my responsibility. I could have ordered them to get to the rocks and saved their lives. But I look at Suri, Walt, and Vela.
Could I have withstood seeing those three chairs empty?
The newbies are dead too, but the virtual overlords will replace them. I despise myself for not caring they died under my leadership.
“That was touch and go,” Syd says in his gentleman’s voice.
My anger erupts, and I charge at the plain-faced man, stopping just short of his feet because the thought of touching his bare skin revolts me. “Where were you? We needed your help!”
He stares, unperturbed. “I do what I always do. I killed ten of the enemy including their leader, who was a 6.2 sigma.”
“If we had coordinated, maybe we wouldn’t have lost Jock or Ally,” I say, hating myself for not mentioning the other three teammates.
“I didn’t make the plans, and you wouldn’t have won without me.”
My palms smash into his chest.
His chair tips backward and when he crashes on the floor, I dive on top of him.
Instead of fighting, he only lifts his hands to block my punches.
Suri and Vela grab my arms and pull me away before I can do any damage.
“Brin! Stop,” Walt says.
Suri adds in a pleading voice, “We need him. He’s right, we needed him to win. They had another six sigma. That’s the one who got Ally.”
A pained expression crosses Suri’s face as I stare into her brown eyes. She’s right of course. These are the highest-ranking people we’ve faced since the disaster with the seven sigma who killed Rick and Simon.
I shake myself from Vela and Suri and stalk back to my seat.
Syd stands and speaks in a rational tone, “Another four of
them were better than fives.”
After Suri sits, she says, “This was a miserable draw. Having losses was inevitable.”
Walt adds with sad eyes, “We were lucky we didn’t all die.”
Ignoring their words, I glower at Syd.
The air pops and Haiku floats in the middle of us. “Is there a problem?”
While Walt and Vela return to their places, Suri shakes her head. “No.”
Syd pulls his chair upright and sits with a smile. “Let’s proceed with the debrief. Right, Brin?”
I clench my jaw and respond with a curt nod.
Happy and oblivious to the underlying tension, Haiku launches into her post-battle report.
In it, she confirms the quality of the opposing team, and we receive corresponding bumps in our scores. Although I’ve surpassed five sigmas and the midpoint of my journey, the milestone doesn’t matter. While disgust brews in my mind, my thoughts wander from Haiku’s words and into the maelstrom of my guilt.
Still caught in the foul mood when Haiku finishes her mandatory speech, I’m returned to my bed.
As I lie still, scarcely breathing and staring at the dark bottom of the upper bunk, my anger ebbs.
I can’t allow emotions to cloud my judgment. My remaining friends need me to act like a leader. As slow as Rick was with in-fight strategies, he looked and acted the part, keeping the team together beyond anything that should have been possible.
Now, it’s my turn, and I can’t worry about the dead. Only the living matter.
With a long sigh, I roll onto my side, burying my face into the pillow.
Suri’s right. I shouldn’t be battling with Syd. The team needs him and is better with him than without him.
I take a calming breath, which helps me focus on solving the problem.
Syd’s been proposing a partnership with me. I’ll accept his offer, but only under the condition that my remaining friends must be protected as well.
I set my jaw and close my eyes.
The whole idea revolts me.
Thirty
It’s well past lights out as I walk between the giant buildings of the deserted sanctuary. Although the air is warm and pleasant, shivers run through my exhausted body.
The faces of my dead friends have haunted my past two sleepless nights.
Jock and Ally were my responsibility.
Only five of the originals remain, and while I don’t care about Syd, I’m completely stressed over losing Suri, Walt, or Vela.
To make matters worse, the irrational idea that making a deal with Syd would be like making a deal with Satan, or at least with the plain-faced devil of this universe, keeps rattling in my mind.
Like Eve in this screwed up Garden of Eden.
As I reach the museum, I suck in a long breath. What once was my favorite spot in Home is now polluted by his presence.
Nibbling on a thumbnail, I try finding a different solution.
No alternatives present themselves.
After the metal entrance grate opens with an exaggerated groan, I step over the threshold and under the caged foyer light.
Beyond the entryway, lonely cones of illumination fall from glowing circles scattered in the high ceiling. Between them, many shadows lurk within the empty brick halls and exhibition spaces. Not that I fear anything or anyone I might encounter, but the effect only adds to the overall dreariness of the undertaking.
“Syd?” I say quietly.
No response.
“Syd!”
A shifting sound comes from the side wing dedicated to neoclassical sculpture.
Folding my arms, I take timid steps into an arched hallway populated by bleak and looming statues. Except for my breathing and pounding heart, all remains quiet in the foreboding confines.
As I pass a sequestered space between a tall, naked king extending his hands to a domed skylight and an armless Greek goddess under a ceiling dimple, I wonder if Syd and Suri have been having trysts in this place.
A disgusted sigh leaves my lips.
Of course, they have.
But that’s not important. My concentration needs to remain on my current task.
Moments later, suffering only an accidental cut on my hand from the wingtip of an angelic statue, I reach a stained-glass window at the end of the corridor. The dim orange and red patterns shift across my body as I turn and face Syd, who is sitting on a low chair in a darkened corner.
Although feeling conspicuous in my thin coverings, I straighten. “We need to talk.”
Hidden in the shadows, Syd shifts, and then the voice from his charming persona floats past. “About what?”
“About your behavior and doing what’s best for the team.”
“I believe I’ve made my position clear on that subject,” he states with maddening calmness.
“There are only five of us left. Don’t you have any feelings for them?”
“Certainly, I do. However, that isn’t the object of this game. The end goal is getting out of here alive. I would think you had that part figured out. While you’ve always disapproved of me, my behavior is perfectly rational in light of this situation.”
Despite the lack of details in the blackness, I know he’s smiling. While my arms tighten because I want nothing more than to rearrange his plain face, I force my hands open because surrendering to the temptation would only jeopardize the harmony Haiku demands within the sanctuary.
“This is only three more than just pairing up with me. How can that make any difference?”
“That’s three more than just adding you to the list of bodies to protect. And three lesser talents susceptible to making mistakes. That’s too much risk.”
“Did you ever consider a bigger team could help you survive?”
“No, that’s idiotic. Extra points aren’t given for teamwork.” He leans from the shadows, letting his smiling expression turn serious in the mottled orange and red light. “If you want my help, I must have something too.”
Full of dread, I draw in a deep breath. “What?”
“Only what I’ve been asking for since the beginning. The two of us share command and mutually protect each other during scenarios. In addition to our partnership extending in every other way.”
“Sex?”
He nods. “I want the relationship to be like a marriage where you surrender to my every wish.”
Besides having a medieval concept of marriage, Syd has never been close to being one of my fantasies. However, while I can handle the physical aspects, the emotional bonds he’s seeking are an entirely different, unappealing animal. I wait for him to say the whole thing’s a joke, but his unblinking, dark eyes never waver.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“The terms are not negotiable.”
Walking away is an option. But that keeps the status quo, and I can’t stay awake forever from stress until the choices I’m forced to make whittle me into nothing.
Then everyone dies.
But the man in front of me turns my stomach. And that’s before adding in the idea of becoming everything he desires. I swivel to leave.
“It’s this or your friends,” he says.
Images of the gory, broken bodies of Suri, Walt, and Vela, pop into my head. Given the odds, the gruesome outcome is destined to happen, but can I forgive myself when I could have chosen a different path?
As I face him, my words fall small and distant. “You need to promise to do everything possible to save the others.”
Sure of my affirmative answer, he lets out a genuine smile. “I will do everything practical under the circumstances.” Before I can protest the peculiar language, he hastily adds, “This is a combat environment, and I can’t guarantee everyone will get out alive.”
He’s right about that. Without another reason to delay, I expel a wary breath. “Okay.”
“Great!”
“Let’s see how this works for one or two scenarios before we consummate this deal.”
The plain-faced
man rises. “If this is going to work, we’ll perform our wedding night duties now.” When I hesitate because of the creepy term “Wedding Night,” Syd adds, “Think of how wonderful it’ll be to save our friends.”
Under normal circumstances, I have no libido. Now, I’m revolted by thoughts of sex. “I’m not in the mood.”
"What do you mean? This is something you want. You've been trying at night."
"How could you possibly think that?"
"After lights out, I've watched you in the starlight coming from the windows, when you’re restless and your hands move between your thighs."
A flush spreads over my face. Privacy issues notwithstanding, there were only three scattered instances after particularly violent scenarios with each ending in total failure.
And apparently performed with an unwanted audience.
I was sure I couldn’t feel any worse…
Rather than groaning, I say, “What about Suri?”
“Suri?”
“You’ve been having sex with her.”
Nonplussed, Syd purses his lips in indecision.
“If we’re going to be fully invested partners, you need to always tell the truth. Or I’m done.”
Syd blurts, “The women I’ve bedded mean nothing. You are the lover of my dreams, the most beautiful goddess in this or any universe. I’ve wanted you ever since the first time we met. As long as I’m with you, I’ll never touch another woman. I promise always to be truthful.” When he finishes, his eyes radiate sincerity.
I have no retort. “Fine.”
He grabs my hand. “This is great, Brin. You won’t regret it.”
The statues cast disapproving stares as Syd leads me down the hallway.
“How have you managed to produce any sexual energy?”
He doesn’t reply until we reach an alcove where cushions stolen from chairs and couches form a crude mattress under a solitary light. “That’s my secret. Maybe after we make love a few times, I’ll tell you.”
When he tries to guide me onto the makeshift wedding bed, I resist. “There are no secrets.”
He pauses, eyes shifting and eyebrows knitted, his mind raging in debate.
“No secrets,” I repeat in a louder voice. “Only the truth. Or no deal.”