Burning Bright

by Michael-Scott Earle

  I sprinted up the stairs and slid down behind the railing of the guard station. A white starship had landed in the grassy field just outside the area of the courtyard, and the back hatch was slowly opening. The ship was eighty meters long, fat in the middle, and obviously made for transporting goods instead of combat. I only spotted two cannons on the vessel, and they didn’t have the correct mounting or diameter for a heavy plasma salvo. I also noticed the engine thrusters had a significant amount of black build up at the exhaust ports, the paint was chipped by all the metal rivets, and the side hinges of the hold door let out a squeal of anger when they were extended.

  This was an old ship, and it wasn’t in the best of shape with the exception of the insignia on the side of the ship: a golden cross within a square that was within a circle. The paint on the emblem looked to be brand new, and it caught the small rays of dawn sunlight and reflected them like a mirror.

  The ship’s hatch finished opening and a ramp extended from the base of the hold. Four white robed figures stood on the edge of the deck, and they there were glowing halos floating above their heads. Their costumes were more splendid than their ship, and gleaming lights flashed from the seams of their garments when they moved down the ramp. By the time they set foot on the ground, the doors to the last two buildings in the courtyard opened, and a group of bare chested tribesmen emerged from inside.

  They carried my friends over their shoulders. They were still naked, and all four of them seemed to still be unconscious.

  The beast shrieked, and the sound made my head spin. He wanted to come up to the surface of my consciousness. He wanted to take control. He wanted to tear apart all of these men, and then reclaim his women.

  Now that I knew where Eve, Zea, Kasta, and Paula were, I knew it was safe to change. I could easily jump down, run across the courtyard, and kill all of these men with my weapons.

  But the change didn’t come. I didn’t shift, and another bout of nausea slammed into my stomach.

  I fought against the overwhelming desire to vomit, and crawled to the edge of the guard station. Was the drug keeping me from shifting? Had not enough time passed since I last shifted? The monster in my DNA growled with frustration and slammed up against the corners of my mind. I wanted him to come out. I wanted to shift, but it wasn’t happening.

  I pushed the top of the axe against the ground and used it to stand. Every muscle in my body ached from trying to change, but my head hurt worst of all. It felt as if someone tried to break apart my brain with a rusted chisel and heavy mallet.

  I looked to the slaver vessel and saw the group of men carrying my friends toward the back hatch. The men in white actually were carrying rifles, and I squinted as I looked at one of them.

  Fuck it all. He carried a plasma rifle.

  The ramp to the white spaceship was about seven-hundred meters away. It would have been an easy shot with my sniper rifle, but there was no way I could hit anything that far away with my submachine gun or heavy pistols. My massive revolver might be able to make the shot, but there was a higher probability I would miss, and then the fuckers would know I was here.

  The plasma rifle would make quick work of this whole cliff face.

  I was going to have to get close enough to take the plasma rifle carrying fuck out without him knowing, and I needed to do it before my friends got on that ship. Once it took off, they would probably enter orbit. I could pursue them with Persephone, but all they would have to do is engage their hyperdrives, and my friends would be gone forever. I would have no way of following them or knowing where their destination was.

  The horrible thought almost caused my body to seize with fear. Even if my friends somehow escaped from their slavers, they would have to find a ship, and hyperdrive back here or Queen’s Hat. It might take months for them to get one, or years for them to travel back to the station.

  I ran toward the next guard alcove. I didn’t even try to use stealth. I just rounded the corner, cleaved one of the men’s skulls open with the tomahawk, cut the throat of the other with my long knife, kicked the third man in the stomach to knock the wind out of him, and then head butted the last guard. Then my axe beheaded the man bent over from the stomach kick while my knife pushed through the other man’s chest and slashed his heart into two equal pieces.

  I jumped back from the alcove and turned toward the next guard station. One of the men there saw me butcher the other group, and he gave a yelp of surprise that alerted his friends. One of them stepped around the corner to peer into the hallway as he raised a blow gun to his mouth. I flipped the axe around so it shielded my face with its blade, but the dart bounced harmlessly off my chest armor. I reached him before he could reload his dart gun, and my knife cleaved through his neck, shoulder, and the forearm he raised to try and block my attack. Blood exploded across the corridor walls, and the shower of crimson almost obscured the second man running at me with his axe raised.

  He brought his weapon down with the full weight of his body, and I twisted my shoulders to the side. The weapon missed my nose by a few centimeters and scraped along my armor. My attacker stumbled toward me with unchecked momentum, and I raised my right axe-carrying arm to clothesline him under the chin while I stepped behind him. My hip pushed out while I raised my arm, and the axe carrying asshole tumbled back over me like a flipped water bottle. He landed on his back, and I brought my tomahawk down in a smooth cut that turned his skull into equal halves.

  The third guard swung his axe at me with a horizontal cut. I sucked in my stomach and tried to step back, but I was still sluggish from the drugs, and the blade ended up hitting me. I let out a gasp, but the primitive metal shattered when it connected with my armor. The other man’s face took on a dumbfounded expression, but the long knife in my left hand removed it, and his life, almost instantly.

  The fourth man held a club, and he let out a shout when he swung it at my head. I brought up my axe and caught the club before it could shatter my skull, and then I thrust my knife forward to try and stab him. He spun away before I could touch him, and then he jumped forward with a kick aimed at my leg.

  I twisted my knee toward him so his shin collided with the armor on my thigh. His bone made a wet slapping sound, and he inhaled to scream. Before he could begin to bellow, my knife cut his esophagus in half, and the only sound that came out of his mouth was a flooded death gurgle.

  I crouched under the railing and peered over toward the white slaver ship. The group of robed men and the fuckers carrying my friends were looking in this direction. They must have heard the asshole with the club shout when he attacked me, and they had stopped their exchange of my friends.

  If they had heard the shout, I figured that the other group of guards at the last balcony had heard it as well. I crawled forward to the next guard alcove and then slid behind the corner. For some reason, those guards hadn’t heard me, or maybe they did, but they weren’t making a move from their position to try and come and investigate the sound.

  The frustration grew in my stomach as I tried to figure out what to do next. There was one guard station left that would see me if I made a dash toward the slaver ship. If they screamed out an alarm, the men with the guns would be able to shoot me. If I took out the last guard station, I would be able to advance over by the front of the ship. Then I could come at the white robed men from behind.

  I’d have a much better chance of killing them without getting fried by plasma.

  The sun was peeking up over the horizon now, and it was causing a long shadow to fall over the face of the cliff and buildings in the courtyard. I didn’t think they could see me, but I still didn’t want to risk running across the level to the next guard post. I peered around the corner to the next guard station and still didn’t see anyone coming. Then I looked back over the railing to the distant slave ship. The group of white robed slavers was looking away from the cliff now, and the men carrying my friends decided the shout wasn’t intended for them. They had reached the edge of their village co
urtyard.

  There were only a hundred meters between them and the slavers.

  “Fuck this,” I growled as I launched myself to my feet and sprinted toward the last guard station. As soon as I took a few steps down the walkway, I saw why the guards hadn’t rushed to attack me. Two of them were leaning around the corner of their protected balcony with their blowguns ready. Running would put me in the range of their weapons, but they probably didn’t realize how powerful my armor was. I raised arms over my face as soon as I saw them inhale, and I felt their darts bounce off the plates on my armor a split second later. The other pair leaned out as soon as the first set fired, but I was on them before they could use their blowguns.

  My tomahawk broke through the ribs of the first man and ripped apart both of his lungs along with his heart. He tried to scream when I chopped through him, but he just sprayed blood out of his mouth instead of a shriek. My knife came up into the chin of the second man, and the blade pierced his jaw, skull, and brain with one easy thrust.

  The third man had a knife of his own, and he was smart enough to slash at my face instead of my armor. My own axe was stuck in the chest of the man I just killed, and I let go of it so I could dodge my enemy’s slash. He made another thrust that I twisted my face away from, and I brought my right hand up to punch into his elbow as I swung my knife across his stomach. My arms moved slower than I expected, and he managed to pull his body away before I could hit him. The tip of his knife sliced across the side of my face, and I felt a stream of warm blood pour out of the wound and down my neck when I brought my blade around to parry his next stab.

  The fourth man carried a club. While I was busy with the knife-wielding guard, he took his turn to attack me. I risked a jab into his face while he brought his weapon down, and my knuckles connected with his nose a half moment before his club hit me. My blow broke his face into pieces, and his club strike bounced off the armor on my shoulder instead of my skull.

  The fucker with the knife stabbed at me again, but I parried his blade with my armored forearm. Then I feinted a thrust to his stomach. He sucked in his gut to avoid my blade, but I was already twisting it upward to cut at his face. This fucker was quick though, or I was too slow from the drugs, and he twisted away before my attack could connect.

  The man with the broken nose had bounced off the guard railing, and he came at me again with his club prepared to smash in my skull. I raised my arm to block the strike he aimed at my head, and we both let out a surprised gasp when the weapon broke against my armor. I didn’t even feel the impact through the plates, but the fucker felt my toe crush his balls, and then he felt my knife separate his spine from his skull when he bent over.

  The asshole with the knife slashed out at my face again, but I blocked it with my forearm, and then cut at him with my own blade. I was just too slow for this fucker though, and he ducked under my arm and slammed his knife into my chest. The blade made a snapping sound when it hit my armor, and I elbowed him in the temple. He squealed, spun away, and I kicked the back of his knee right as he put weight on it. He fell backward, and I shoved my weapon into his eye to finally end his life.

  The men carrying my friends had reached the group of slavers. No one was looking at the cliff face, so I leapt over the side of the ledge and grabbed onto the lip of the railing. It was easy enough to drop down to the next level, and then I lowered myself again to the floor of the dirt courtyard.

  Then I pulled out my submachine gun while I sprinted toward the nose of the landed slave ship.

  The bare-chested men laid the four naked women on the grass in front of the slavers, then they all prostrated themselves on the field. They lay there with their heads on the ground while the four robed men walked around my friends. I had to dive under the grass to keep from being seen, and I continued my journey on my hands and knees.

  I was still some three hundred meters away when I saw the robed men gesture toward my friends. Four of the bare-chested men jumped to their feet, and they each lifted a woman before walking up the ramp of the ship.

  “No!” I hissed as tried to increase my crawling speed.

  A few seconds passed, and I spared another glance in their direction. The robed men were turned away from the entrance of their ship and were no longer looking at me. The other men were kind of looking in my direction, but they seemed more interested in the ship’s hold.

  I jumped to my feet and sprinted again.

  While I ran through the tall grass, I tried to bend over a little so I was somewhat concealed. I didn’t know how well it worked, but the natives didn’t seem to notice me. Instead, they were looking at the crates that their four friends walked down the ramp carrying. I guessed it was food supplies, or maybe medical supplies that they had traded for my friends. It didn’t matter what the fuck it was, these slavers were going to get a bullet.

  Two hundred meters more.

  I was running as hard as I could while hunched over, but my legs, back, and chest was starting to feel numb again. Then nausea hit, and my vision started to spin. I tried to push through it, and pick up my pace, but my boot toe caught against something, and I tumbled face first into the grass.

  I wanted to puke again, but I forced the bile back down and pushed myself off the dirt. I wanted to shift, I needed to shift, but my body wouldn’t start the process. I couldn’t hand control over to the animal living in my soul.

  Even to save my friends.

  I forced my legs to move through the long grass again. They complied even though the sky kept spinning and my lungs were telling me that they couldn’t take any more air. The drugs had really fucked me up. I needed to take a few seconds to rest, but my friends didn’t have a few seconds. I saw the bare-chested men set down the boxes on the grass and then turn to the white robed slavers. They bowed deeply again and turned back toward their city.

  The men in white began to walk up the ramp of their ship.

  One hundred meters.

  Please shift.

  Please shift.

  Fucking shift, Adam.

  I didn’t bother crouching anymore. I was pushing my human legs as fast as they could go. Then I demanded more speed and got a bit more. Every limb of my body was numb, but I didn’t fucking care. I needed to get to the ship before the hatch closed.

  Fifty meters.

  I ran next to the white slaver ship now, and I could see the shitty paint job, and the sloppy rivets connecting the jutting pieces of metal to the hull.

  The angle of my approach allowed me to see the end of the ramp extending from the rear of the craft I ran next to. It was pulling back into the craft, and the engines fired up. Their sound deafened me, and the blast of air from a thruster above me almost knocked me to the ground.

  I was almost at the end of the ship. I just needed fifteen more meters.

  I thought about Eve trapped in her prison tube for countless years. I thought about how she was the part of me that I never knew I needed.

  I thought about when I first met Zea. I recalled her reaching down to pull me up to the top of the elevator. I recalled the dinner we had in Queen’s Hat and our first kiss. I recalled how everything she said made me laugh and how our bodies became like one when we were lovers.

  I thought about Paula and Kasta; the genius sisters who were two of my best friends. They had lost their sister to slavery, and now they were going to experience the same damn fate if I didn’t save them.

  The ship’s thrusters screamed, and I went deaf. Then it began to lift off the ground.

  I rounded the corner of the vessel and saw the back hatch was still in the process of closing.

  I ran toward it with every ounce of power I could harness.

  The edges of my vision spun and turned black.

  My heart slammed in my ears.

  My lungs cried with agony.

  My legs felt like they were made out of boiling lead.

  I jumped with all my strength and reached my left hand out as high as I could to catch the lip of the craft�
�s loading bay.

  My fingers caught the edge. My momentum carried me forward in a swing, but I kept my grip.

  I let go of my submachine gun, and then reached up with my right hand so I could pull myself up onto the craft before the hatch door closed.

  My right fingers latched onto the surface, and I gave out a shout of relief before I began to pull myself up onto the loading deck.

  Then the hatch came down, tore through my armor, and cut off my arms at the wrists.

  I didn’t feel the pain at first. Instead, I only felt the feeling of weightlessness. Then I saw the white painted vessel fall away from me. Then I saw the two bloody stumps that had once been my hands.

  Then I felt the pain.

  But it wasn’t the pain from my injury. It was the pain of knowing that I’d failed my friends. It was the pain of knowing that they might serve as slaves for the rest of their lives. It was the pain of knowing that, even if they did escape, we would never be together again.

  I screamed, but I was deaf still from the engines, or maybe it was from the wind rushing past my face. The ship had taken me high up into the sky of GUAAY - 23 - C, and the buildings of the town where we just left looked like tiny blocks children would play with.

  I fell, and hoped that Eve could hear my last goodbye.

  Chapter 11

  But my plummet only lasted another handful of seconds.

  There was a popping sound from my back, and a piece of my armor ejected as if something from my flight suit had kicked it free. I twisted in the air as I tried to look behind my shoulder, and then a puff of white smoke shot from my back.

  The smoke billowed out from behind me, and I realized it was actually a light gray parachute. It had the same pattern as my flight suit, but I couldn’t see any of the lines connecting it to my suit. There were lines though, since I felt the sudden tug on my chest and back once the parachute filled with air.