“Just… Insane.” The field before us littered with dozens of bodies in various states of decay, from freshly killed to bleached white bone. Carrion birds, something like vultures but longer and more reptilian, circle above. They descend on the newly dead scaag like hail, fighting and ripping at still warm flesh for a few seconds before the guns vaporize them. Interesting. “What’s the plan?”
Syl indicates the birds. “As you can see, the guns are programmed to kill anything that moves. But they are not perfect. The scaag are not agile and are mindless enough that they do not realize that it takes the computer systems time to track them. A few seconds, at the most.” Her teeth gleam as she rolls her shoulders. “Which is all I need.”
“Wait, wait, wait, hold the phone. You’re going to dodge those things?”
She clambers up the low lip of the embankment we crouch behind, turns around. “Yes. I have no way to signal my people from here. I will approach the walls, ask for safe passage.”
“Wait,” Mika says, alarmed. “I don’t feel good about you leaving without us. And I especially don’t feel good about a one of those things tearing a hole through you.”
“Thank you, Mika. But there is no other way,” Syl says, turning away. “You are clan. I will not leave you behind.” She doesn’t look back as she speaks, and sounds almost… Sad?
“Wait!” I shout, “There has to be another way. Let’s–”
She slips out of sight.
“Really wish she’d stop doing that,” Mika grumbles as we make our way up the low slope.
We crest the lip in time to see Syl leap and flip in the air over a solid beam of light that pulverizes the ground behind her as it hits. She hits the ground running and darts sideways like lightning as three more shots miss her by inches. She ducks around some scaag bodies, hurdles over others, and uses others as barriers. It’s like she knows the maze of dead by heart, which I know is bullshit because she scanned the battlefield for like ten seconds before leaving us. But somehow, over and over, the beams miss her, and she clears the first fifty feet, clearing the last of the pulverized bodies.
I can’t look away. Can’t believe she’s actually making it. Even the scaag stop their endless assault, like they’re are poleaxed as we are.
Suddenly, like fucking physics doesn’t apply to her, she shifts directions the other way and slides across the sandy ground, ducking under two more beams before stopping cold as one tears through the spot her head would have been. She shifts again, darts forward, rolling and diving, chased by superheated death until she reaches the base of the outpost.
She turns, giving us a little wave before using her claws to scramble up the walls like a squirrel. She disappears over the ledge and is gone.
Mika and I sit frozen, mouths open. “That was… Fucking amazing,” she whispers.
“Yeah, I would have been sawdust in the first two seconds.” I watch the top of the walls for sudden activity, any sign of trouble, but aside from the swiveling autocannons there’s nothing. “She definitely took the red pill.”
Mika laughs as we duck to avoid notice as scaag bound from above, hitting the ground in explosions of loose soil. Their screams as they try and fail to emulate Syl chase us as we skid down the dirt. Mika stumbles, pitching forward, but I catch and help her settle at the base of the hill.
“I’m a little less graceful than her,” she slurs, head ducking. “But that’s ‘kay. Got you around to take care of me.”
“Comforting,” I say, falling next to her. A worm of worry wiggles in my gut, something about Syl’s expression when she turned away from us. Something familiar, painful. But I’m not going to trouble Mika. Not yet.
Mika relaxes, cuddles against my shoulder. The spot we’re in is shady, more sheltered than any we’ve travelled through so far in this horrible place, and a light breeze rises and provides some desperately needed relief from the heat. “Cozy.”
Mika huffs a laugh I can feel more than hear. “Yeah, if not for the scaag being slaughtered and the giant anime laser beams, this would be like a five-star hotel.”
“Service kind of sucks, though.”
“Sam,” Mika says, voice quiet. “I don’t feel so good. Like my brain is… Swimmy. Not myself.”
“You sound like you,” I tease, swallowing the worry that tightens my throat. Her words are slurred, not drunk, but almost dreamy.
“Maybe the spores work faster in the simulation,” she says, voice falling. “Maybe I’m screwed.” She rustles, starts to pull away from me. “If I’m contagious, you shouldn’t be near me. One of us has to–”
I silence her with my lips, a hard kiss that she tries to pull away from. At first. But her hands betray her, gripping my neck lick it’s the only thing tethering her to the world. When she finally kisses back, it’s hungry, desperate, laden with heat and need. Our mouths are dry, our lips cracked, but we don’t care. It doesn’t matter. Nothing else but her exists.
I break contact first, and she huffs in disappointment. “There,” I say, gasping. “I’m infected, too. We’re in this together.”
Her smile is heart stopping. “That’s just about the most romantic, stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“What kind of gentleman would I be if I wasn’t willing to share deadly spores with you?”
She dissolves into laughter, falling hard against me. Too hard. Her movements are sluggish, slowing. Her hand drops along my belly, slips into the waistband of my pants. She pants as her fingers circle my cock.
“Wait… Wait, Mika…” I try to pull away, but her grip… It feels so good. I harden, almost against my will, and she chuckles against my stomach, her breath painting my flesh hot.
“Here they are, Strike Commander.”
The words fall on us like a bucket of cold water from above. My mind clears, and desire falls away from us as I startle, cheeks flushed.
Well, falls from me. Mika squeezes my shaft one last time, biting her lip with a wicked gleam in her eyes before letting me loose and straightening to stand.
I follow, far slower. It’s difficult without embarrassing myself, and I have to do that kind of half hunch anyone who’s ever been a teenage boy understands all too well.
After a moment, I follow Mika up the lip and to the tree line proper, where a contingent of six more Threvians stand alert. None of them are any more dressed than Syl, and they all palm rifles that look oddly similar to mine, even if they’re smaller. Their only adornment are belts that sport small knives and something that look like handcuffs.
A little alarm rings out in my mind.
Syl eyes us, lips pursed. Her scales flush lighter, like she’s excited, but there’s something in her eyes that stops a quip dead on my lips. And in a rush, I know what that familiar expression was when she left us before. One I’ve seen on the faces of girlfriends before they walked out my door.
Regret. That whatever’s about to happen is going to hurt you, but it’s going to happen anyway.
No.
One of the Threvians steps forward; the commander, I assume, based on his haughty expression and the fact that he’s twice as large and aged as the others. He watches us, gaze lingering on my weapon for a long moment before turning to Syl. “These are the… Humans?” He says the word slowly, like he’s never heard it.
“Yes,” she answers. Her expression is granite.
“Syl?”
She turns away.
The commander flicks his tongue as if tasting their air, and then waves toward us. “Very well. Take them, throw them in holding until we decide what to do with them.”
“Syl!”
She doesn’t turn back. “Apologies, Sam. Mika. These are my people. This is my best chance of escape, of avenging myself.”
Mika boils forth, flushed with rage. “You son of a bitch! What happened to clan? ”
Syl’s shoulders hunch almost imperceptibly, but she doesn’t answer as she starts across the killing field.
Shackles snap around my wrists as I watch he
r march, alone, back to the outpost.
14
Chamber 4
Aspirant #2239
Room Timer: 01:01:44
Being force marched across the killing field feels like a death sentence.
My instincts tell me to fight, to flee. That the Citadel wouldn’t put us in this position if there wasn’t a way out, even now. Another part of my mind, a smaller part fed by anger and betrayal, whispers that this is the end. That the Aspirants before me failed and died in this place, and now it’s my turn.
I try to choke back despair, try to think. But Mika’s out of it, broken and more stoned by the second. We’re surrounded by Threvians, and if they’re even half as strong or as fast as Syl we don’t stand a chance in a physical fight. Especially with my hands shackled behind my back. They march in formation, a hexagonal pattern with each of them about fifteen feet away from us. They’re not worried that we’ll run or fight, and that’s almost more galling than anything else.
The autocannons are powered down, and the three Threvians at our back form a wall of gunfire behind us, taking out scaag that try to capitalize on the development. They’re not scared off by the mountains of dead and dying around us, or the carrion birds, feasting now that they’re not being blasted off the dead.
The Threvians watching our back shout in alarm at what must be an especially focused attack of scaag, but a fusillade of energy fire ends it decisively.
I don’t turn to look. A few days ago, something like this would have been fucking incredible, like a scene from a sci-fi movie. Something I would have killed to witness, to be a part of.
Now, I’m numb. We’re going to die, whispers that insidious voice in me.
A voice that’s getting a lot louder.
“Hey.” Mika’s word is slurred. “Hey, grumpy cat.”
I school my expression, make myself turn to her. Something I’ve been avoiding. Not because I don’t want to take her in my arms, save her. Because I feel like I can’t. Like I’ve failed her.
She’s smiling. A weird a little half grin. Her eyes are bleary, like she’s drunk, but there’s still fearsome intelligence in them. And anger that matches mine. “This isn’t over,” she whispers. “Don’t give up on me, Sam.” She laughs to herself. “Samwise.”
I stare at her long enough that I almost trip on an old scaag bone. Then I smile back. “If I’m Samwise, and you’re–”
“Stop, stop. I shouldn’t have said that. Read a fanfic about that exact thing, once.” She shudders. “Not my fetish.”
“Oh? And what is?”
“I thought I knew, before I met you. Now, you’re gonna have to help me find out.” She winks, or at least, she tries to. It’s more of a slow blink where each eyelid opens and closes at a different rates. Then she nods to the Threvians and winks. “Maybe I’m an exhibitionist.”
I laugh, a real, genuine belly laugh that earns us a volley of glares from our escort. It feels so damned good. Was I really about to give up? Just lay down and die? Screw that.
She’s right. This isn’t over.
Mika’s nods at me like a drunk, waiting for my response. I try again to reconcile the wickedly shy girl I met what seems like a lifetime ago, now. Somehow, I think this isn’t just the spores talking. “Maybe I’d like to find out if that one’s true.”
“Count on it.” Mika’s voice lowers, and she nods slowly, gathering her thoughts. “Feel better?”
“Yeah. Yeah I do.” I put my arm around her, pull her close. She leans into me gratefully. She’s poisoned, barely able to walk, beat to hell by the fight. Her clothes are torn, with her top ripped half off, exposing the purple bra thing Astra put on her, and somehow, one of her shoes is missing. I hadn’t even noticed.
But despite all that, she’s the one cheering me up. “You’re pretty amazing.”
“Don’t feel like it, just now,” she slurs.
“We’ll get out of this.”
Somehow.
We pass beneath the orange stone walls. They’re thick, at least ten feet deep, which seems like ridiculous overkill considering their foe. Then again, maybe the scaag weren’t the only thing these walls were meant to hold off. The tunnel is marked by pictures like Earth hieroglyphics, paint and ink long faded by time and abuse. I’m no expert but considering how clear some cave paintings are on Earth, I figure these are old.
The outpost itself is… Bizarre is the only word I can think of. Something like twelve buildings are a mishmash of ancient walls, some kind of brick or clay, crossed with futuristic Star Wars technology. Tiny, powerful lights are punched into ancient mortar, and in many places they hang loose. The doors are metal, silver and burnished, shining in twin suns. There are only a few more Threvians going about their business, mostly carrying tiny cases that look like laptops under one arm. A few more are clearly martial, holding rifles, and one has a weapon that looks so much like the one the Citadel gave me that I turn to make sure the soldier that confiscated mine still has it.
The brig is a single building with a single door; a low, hunched pile of brick with a rounded roof. The captain smacks a panel and the door slides open into the wall, Star Trek style. He nods and the guards toss us inside carelessly, already turning away. Finished with the momentary distraction we’ve provided.
The captain doesn’t say a word. I don’t even know why they’ve locked us up. Is this part of the Citadel’s test? Or is this how they would have reacted to the presence of a few aliens if we’d actually landed on the Threvian home world? How realistic is this place?
It makes my head hurt to think about. It doesn’t really matter, anyway. All that matters is escape.
“Wait! At least take off the cuffs!” I yell as I stumble through the door. No one answers. They don’t even look like they’ve heard me. I try to get a last look out the door before is slides shut, try to see if Syl is there. Watching. Waiting. But I don’t see her anywhere.
We’re on our own.
Mika slides to the floor, resting against the back wall, eyes unfocused. I peer out the little grate in the door but see nothing aside from the featureless building across from ours. In the distance, the autocannons are powered back up. They pulse as they gun down the endless waves of scaag.
I prowl the cell, search for clues, a way out. It’s a fairly generous space, about ten feet in diameter, lit by a single bulb at the center of its domed ceiling. The light is tiny but powerful, like a superpowered LED, and I have to squint as I stand on tiptoes to examine it. It’s housed directly in the material of the building. No help there.
The walls are curved but blank, completely bare of adornment. No windows, no markings, nothing aside from the door. In a few places they’re scored deeply, like something with terrifying claws got thrown in here. Maybe other Threvians? Syl’s claws could definitely do something like this. Though, considering how freaky strong the Threvians are, the fact that the marks are only a half inch deep makes my heart sink.
I growl in frustration as I sink next to Mika, glancing at my pad. 00:58:17.
Huh. It feels like we’ve been here forever. It seems impossible that we stepped through the doorway into this trial a little over an hour ago.
“Mika,” I whisper, shifting position so I’m not sitting on my bound hands. Why am I keeping my voice down? The autocannons are loud enough to drown out most of the noise of the outpost. “Can you see anything? Markings on the walls? Any clues?”
She lifts her head slowly, squints as she looks around. Then she shrugs, laughs. “Nope. We are so screwed.”
“Hey, none of that talk. Remember?”
“Right, aye aye, cappin.” She tries to lift her arms, maybe to salute, forgetting that she’s bound. She settles for a little rise of her shoulder, bopping herself on the cheek. “Heeeey. What about… You know…” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Use the Force, Sam.”
Huh. I hadn’t thought of that. It hurt like fuck the first time I used it, but if it’s our only way out… “Good idea. Okay. I’ll give it a shot.
Be ready to catch men if I pass out or something.”
She shrugs again, does a little arm wiggle that I think is meant to tell me good luck with that but instead threatens to make me forget where we are and what the hell we’re doing here. She catches me looking, does it again with a wicked little smile.
Okay. Bad time to get distracted. I stagger up, cursing myself for sitting. Who would have thought it’d be hard as hell to stand with your hands tied behind your back? Apparently not me.
Mika grunts, tries to rise herself. I turn, do a weird little crouch facing away from her so I can try to help her up. She hooks her good elbow in my hands and lurches to her feet, then immediately stumbles to the wall, giggling. “Okay. Ready to assist,” she manages.
She looks more like she’s going to fall flat on her face. “Uh, maybe you should sit back down.”
“No way,” she says. “If you blow that door off with your new mind fuckery, I’ll be ready to run. Or if you black out trying, I’ll heroically dive beneath your falling body.”
“Mind fuckery. I like that. And don’t try to run on your own.” I steady her with my shoulder so her back is to the wall. “Not sure you’d make it far.”
“Pff, whatever,” she says, standing straight. Or at least, she tries to. Instead, she accomplishes a little hop which doesn’t help at all with the whole distraction issue. Her top is mostly gone, and her tits look like they’re about to bounce right out of the scant material that’s left. Her outfit covers much less than it shows, made worse by the sorry condition of the material.
Mika notices me staring again, gives a half grin. “Oh, ho,” she says, then pushes her shoulders together, squishing her chest to straining. “Maybe there’s something else we should do. I’ve heard it helps guys concentrate if they lighten the load .” She winks.
“Mika, I… Goddamn.” I close my eyes, take a long breath. If I get anything accomplished with her like this, it’ll be a miracle.
Turning my back to her is one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life. The frustrated little noise she lets out makes it a lot worse.
Aspirant: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure Page 17