WHEN HEROES FALL

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WHEN HEROES FALL Page 8

by Abby J. Reed


  We were led as though we were honored guests to the massive doors taller than Avonley’s mall. Angel wing patterns covered the borders. A thin sheen of transcenGel shimmered as we passed over the threshold. The hallway stretched as far as a mini city in front of us. Empty art frames and blank tapestries hung from the walls. Even the support columns were devoid of detail. Stark white absorbent tiles lined the floor, keeping body heat from penetrating to the ice below.

  I’d seen some of this tech type on mission runs, stolen some of it. But never stepped inside a building completely designed for it.

  If I had a line, I would’ve seen a complete world stamped onto all this emptiness. The frames would be filled with the most avant-garde artists. The tiles decorated with the most intricate designs. The air, too, saturated with music and entertainment and the smell of the famous fish dishes the Queen loved. Holo people paying buckets of GUs would be marveling along the corridors through the safety of their line.

  All of it lost on us.

  For us, it was like entering a tomb.

  Fitting. Considering both what I carried and the situation we were walking into.

  The head soldier led us through a series of corridors until we reached the prayer room. His line unlocked the transcenGel to allow us through. We had a similar ring-shaped prayer room growing up, but ours had holo pics of old family members on the walls. While the temperature of the air was pleasant, the room decor was a degree short of freezing, with no other decorations save an altar in the middle. Rows and rows of figures were carved into it, like a tapestry. The only art we could see.

  “Make yourselves comfortable,” the head soldier said. As though there were chairs to sit in. “The Queen will be with you shortly.” No need to lock us in or stay with us. Not when exiting meant getting trapped in the transcenGel.

  Leader kept her back to the far side of the wall, watching our movements with expectation. Brody padded around the room, his steps more predator than boy. His sharp eyes simmered, a whirling pit of fury contained underneath.

  I twisted my lips and set ShuShu down to the side. “Not the homecoming you expected, is it, Leader?”

  Leader’s eyes narrowed, and the tension in the room thickened.

  Tahnya placed her hand on Brody’s back and gently guided him toward the altar, breaking his fierce eye contact with Leader. She traced the carving. “Can’t find this in the compound, can you?”

  Brody didn’t look. His clothes hung loose on him and were still covered with his blood. He’d wrapped his hand in the corner of his T-shirt. “Doesn’t look like much to me.”

  I stepped forward to look at the art. “You’re missing the point, ese. This is an illustration of the Heart Myth.” I pointed to the figures marching along the bottom, clutching their chests. “These are supposed to be Solterans from long ago. They supposedly ripped out their hearts to get rid of their own darkness.” I touched my chest. I understood how they felt. If I could tear out the pain, I would.

  “Then what happened?” Tahnya said.

  I shrugged. “The Angel and Demon.” I showed her the wing pattern that flowed into the altar. “They showed the Solterans the way to a better home.” I pointed out thirteen figures, with one falling away. “And these are the thirteen Solteran tribes, which the wedges are based on.”

  Tahnya frowned. “I thought there were only twelve wedges.”

  “Sí. Because supposedly one tribe was lost along the way. Or maybe they got lost before the Heart Myth? The story chronology is debated.”

  Brody shifted. “Boring. Who cares about a bunch of dead people?” He glanced at ShuShu, then muttered, “Sorry.”

  I didn’t answer.

  Tahnya coughed, clearly trying to change the subject. “Leader, what’s the Queen like?”

  Leader ran her palm along the walls, a look of longing on her face, as though imagining what she could see if only she had a line. “Someone you’d rather not meet.”

  “Then why the hell did you bring us?” Brody’s hands propped on his hips. “Why did you bring me?” He took a step forward, teeth bared.

  “Brody,” Tahnya warned.

  Leader snapped around in his direction and let out a nasty laugh. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  Brody scowled. “Why not?”

  “You’re from a back-water planet and probably never fought for anything in your short life. You don’t understand what it means to live without—”

  Brody’s face morphed red. “You know nothing about me.” Tahnya reached out but he smacked her off. “You bloody don’t know anything about our planet, the desking war going on, anything. On our planet, I’m old enough to fight. On our planet—”

  “Look around,” Leader said. “You’re not on your planet anymore. Out here, you’re a spoiled brat of a child. I should’ve taken more than a couple fingers. I should’ve taken your entire head.”

  Brody’s eyes flashed. With a giant leap, he tackled her. Her skull slammed against the ground and within a half-sec, he had wrapped his thighs around her neck. She clawed at his knees, clawed up his clothing toward his scowling, furious face—

  “Brody, no!” Tahnya screamed. She rushed to the other side of the altar. “Jupe! Do something!”

  But it was too late.

  The crack of Leader’s neck snapping already filled the room.

  Chapter 10

  LUKA

  The warning scream melted into a choked gurgle as whoever shouted died. The core splintered into chaos as hardened nerves dissolved. I rushed to the entrance, listening for sounds of extra movement. Couldn’t tell where the shout came from, but the people sitting in the hall on the southside sprinted toward the core.

  “Get inside. Everyone. Now!” I waved them through the door. More screams echoed down the southern tunnels. How the hell did the Extrats slip inside?

  I stepped into the hall.

  Lantern light flickered—a dark mass heaved down the hallway, pursuing the last couple people. They stumbled forward and I rushed to them. Planted myself between them and the Extrat.

  Rot ate at its face. Scraps of clothing and flesh hung from its claws. The smell of fresh blood kicked my adrenaline.

  I ran straight at it, turning my movement into a slide. Stabbed with my mini as I slid underneath its immediate reach. Ripped upward as my mini penetrated, then tore through its body. I rose, kicking it off my blade.

  I turned to the newcomers. “Anyone else behind you?”

  “Dead, dead, all dead,” one said. “They came through the entrance!”

  How? The only way to unlock the entrances was with an override code. “You injured?”

  “No. We got away.”

  I nodded, tipped my ear to the south. There were no echoing vibrations or crashing. Nothing that sounded like an entire Extrat horde loped toward us. Good, good.

  Meanwhile, the only screaming and noise left in the underground was coming from the core.

  We had time to get re-organized.

  I shooed the newcomers inside and halted at the mess.

  Some people froze completely, pressing into their beds with hands clasped over their ears. Fists flew as people fought over the weapons alcove. I looked more closely at the growing riot. Yana was right—nobody went for any of the guns. They only wanted Elik weapons, especially the spears, which would put more distance between them and the enemy. It was like someone had broken apart a blaster and sent all the pieces flying.

  Where was the organization? Where was everyone’s basic training? What happened to our military?

  Military.

  I almost laughed at the word. We were so proud of the system we’d built. The fighters we’d trained. The safety we’d provided. Now that I had seen a glimpse of Leader’s organization and the Solteran royals’ ships?

&n
bsp; Our military was a banging joke.

  Cal leapt onto Chief Malvyn’s chair. He waved his hands in the air, trying to reign in attention, but panic ran too high. Cal’s gaze found me in the crowd. He knew as well as I did if the people weren’t brought under control, and if more Extrats broke through, we were dead. Already, a group of people gathered to him, the only calm in the growing writhing storm.

  Then I noticed the slightly ajar control hub along the wall.

  Where someone could enter the override codes. Except the only person who would have the code was—

  My teeth ground together. Banging sonnabitch Malvyn.

  I looked around for him. Why wasn’t the khaim-ass barking orders to calm everyone? Where was the bastard?

  Didn’t matter right now. At least Cal was trying to do something.

  I shoved through the crowd to reach him, letting my elbows have free reign. My mind spun with a diagram of the underground. Where were all the entrances? Where would the bombs and flash flood have done the most damage? What other weak points could the Extrats take advantage of?

  Most important—why did only the Elik weapons do damage to the Extrats?

  Cal ran a hand through his curls, frustrated. The group at his feet pushed against the chair, looking for direction. “I can’t get anybody else’s attention,” he said to me.

  I jumped onto the ledge, raised my minis and clanged them together. The sound ricocheted through the room. “ENOUGH!”

  Most everyone calmed at the sight of me looming above them. Or maybe they calmed at the sight of Cal who had so clearly fought for them while I had been gone.

  I lowered my minis. A glimmer at the edge of my vision snagged my attention. My core clenched and a hot flash surged in my system. Not a banging migraine. Not now. My thoughts dragged back to the ship as we flanked home. The horas I hid from Breaker and Malani in the storage room, where the dark and cool could try to temper the pain.

  I forced myself to look at the spot again.

  Not a migraine. Only the reflection of the light against the black strip on my minis. My muscle tension eased.

  Black strip.

  The dark matter.

  Realization dawned.

  The Elik spears and knives were made from dark matter. When Malani sang the extra drips of fuel onto my minis, she’d edged the blades with dark matter. The guns she made before she left Scarlatti were also made from dark matter, which made them more powerful than our normal guns, but what came out of the barrel wasn’t actually dark matter itself.

  Extrats could be killed. But only directly by dark matter.

  I turned to where I’d last seen Malani. Couldn’t find her. “If anyone can speak Elik,” I said, “can you come up front?”

  Only one person edged forward. I recognized him. He was the translator King Oma used when he had surrounded the ship, trapping me and Tahnya on it. I was half tempted to kick in his face.

  Instead, I leaned over. “How well do you speak?”

  “Some.”

  “Ask to see if there are any Elik who can manipulate dark matter. Then ask if they’d be willing to make more weapons.”

  Cal nodded. “We still have an entire cart full and the leftovers from when Malani was molding.”

  I addressed the crowd. “If you are in a condition fit to fight and can find an Elik-made weapon, group up. If you are in unfit condition, stay here in the core.”

  “Why would we listen to you?” Nocklie’s arms were folded and his jaw jutted. His butcher knife dangled carelessly in his hand. What a pain in my ass.

  I glared at him. “How many Extrats have you killed? None? I’ve killed over twenty. And there’s a dead one sitting right outside the core.”

  Nocklie’s shoulders thrust forward. “Can you prove—”

  An Extrat burst through the core entrance. Its face was so rotted away, the nose hung by a sliver of cartilage. Its claws twisted into long extensions, ready for gutting.

  I was wrong. There had been another that had slipped through.

  Before anyone could blink, I heaved my right mini like a spear, skewering it in the head. It fell backward, a bloated tongue bulging. It twitched as death took hold. I calmly walked through the parting crowd, purposefully passing right by Nocklie, the vindictive bastard, and yanked out the mini. It didn’t want to give, so I had to step on its chest to free the blade. With three hard hacks, I beheaded the monster. I held up its severed head, ignoring the black blood dripping.

  “We’ve taken so desking long to bring some order, it had plenty of time to follow our noise and find us. This can’t happen again. So shut up and listen,” I said. To my eternal pleasure, nobody spoke a word. It was the closest thing to pure power I’d ever experienced. The thrill was like swinging my mini for the first time. Like it was crafted to be a part of me. “We know the underground entrance on at least the southside is unlocked. They came through there. We will go and doublecheck every entrance, make sure they are all closed. Then we will spread out and check the tunnels for other weakened places where the Extrats can slip through and patch those areas.”

  I quickly divided the room into groups, sent out the initial team to the south, before issuing the rest of my orders. “You five head in the direction of the factories. You lot go east. Check the water supplies. You, north. Be sure to double check where the flood hit hardest. You, west. You, stay by the med center. You—”

  I suddenly realized I was pointing toward Yana’s group. Next to her stood Mateo, his arm around her. He looked just as I remembered, bone-thin arms with too-big eyes, someone who gave off the aura of prey. His face had smile lines. Who had smile lines before they were thirty? He didn’t have any dark matter weapon either, only a blunted axe. As though it would protect his family.

  Our family.

  My finger hung in the air, accusatory as hell. The list of all the things he should’ve done never ended.

  His eyes glinted, the soft brown hardening into stone, as though he knew exactly what I was thinking and, despite my extra kilos, was willing to try to take me on anyway. She said no, he seemed to say.

  I swallowed my urge to spit at his feet. Now isn’t the time.

  I wiped the mini against my pant leg and tossed it to him. He caught it by the handle.

  “You check the food supplies.” I turned to the rest of the group. “Everybody else, spread out. If you hear anybody yelling for help, go.” I rolled the Extrat head out of the way toward the wall. It connected with a shlunk. “I’ll stay here and guard the core.”

  Chapter 11

  BREAKER

  I kept to the edges of the room. Trying to reach Malani while remaining steady on Circuit with all the thrown elbows and smashing shoulders was impossible. Her wings flared as something behind me caught her attention. By the time Luka sorted everyone into groups, she had slipped from my sight.

  The groups exited toward their assignments, their energy pulsing and nervous. Those not on a mission filed back into the core.

  Brother, the one with Raf’s face had called me back on Syktyv. Brother. We didn’t just need to re-secure the doors and plug any breeches. We needed to try to talk to the Extrats.

  I waved to get Luka’s attention, but he pointedly ignored me, helping some get hold of Elik weapons, issuing orders to others.

  Cal motioned with his new dark matter knife for me and the others lumped in our group. We were supposed to go south. I couldn’t tell who belonged to which tribe save two Herons because they whispered their musical language to each other. No bloodcon, needlick needed anymore. We were all on the same side. Each of them held a shard of mined dark matter, passed out by one of Luka’s appointees. Their faces were haunted, but determined.

  We passed the initial breakthrough spot. Already makeshift beams were being hauled to help blockade th
e entrance. We moved to the side as the bodies were carried back.

  “Don’t you need to go with them?” I said to Cal.

  He watched the procession with a sad gaze. “I can’t help the dead.”

  When we got to a split in the tunnels, Cal motioned for the others. “You all head right toward the boundary to check those entrances. We’ll head left toward the compound.”

  The Herons nodded at Cal, their trust of him clear. Though they couldn’t understand what he said, they got the gist and followed the rest of the group.

  Cal turned back toward me. “There’s another entrance on the southside. A lot of the attacks have been coming from that area, so there’s a greater chance of another one having slipped through.”

  I followed him, fast as I could. Circuit wasn’t cooperating with all of this uneven ground. “Then why did you send away the rest of our group?”

  Cal readjusted his grip on the knife. “If another one does come, I can’t . . . I can’t risk any more lives.”

  “Except mine.”

  “You don’t count.”

  I would’ve laughed at the joke, except there was a hardness behind his words that made me hesitate. Instead, I shook my head. “We’re going about this all wrong. While we were on Syktyv, one didn’t attack me. It talked and let me go. They won’t hurt us if we just talk. I’m sure—” I stopped at Cal’s dumfounded look.

  “Oh yeah?” His tone was sharp. “Tell that to the corpses.”

  I threw up my hands as he led me into a patchy part of the tunnel. What had gotten into him? If I guessed our distance right, we were directly underneath the edge of one of the compound’s open spaces.

  Cal immediately slowed, wary. This area had been a punching bag for bombs. Most of the ceiling beams had caved in and were scattered. One, near the beginning of this section, clearly held most of the remaining structural weight. Thin streams of moonslight lanced through the space, shifting as though clouds moved aboveground to cut off their meager light. Flood water had left a stain on the walls. By pure luck, the tunnel sloped, draining any standing water away. If there was another flash flood, the underground would be in trouble. This entire section was one bad kick from falling completely apart.

 

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