Stellarnet Rebel

by J. L. Hilton

  “Get out! Get out! You’re free! Go!”

  When the Glin saw their dead Tikati captors, they needed little urging. Nish and Eb were waiting for him outside the prisoner barracks. The Finders had brought them back from Wandalin to assist Duin, and all three of them were outfitted by the U.S. military with weapons and suits. But these suits were not like the ones worn by the Air & Space Force or UN Peacekeepers on Asteria. These were flexible, lightweight and rendered the wearer nearly invisible. Sensors detected light and then relayed that light to the opposite side, to create a constantly changing camouflage that blended in with whatever was behind them, from whichever angle they were viewed.

  At the moment the suits were dark green, the default color—deactivated so that the other Glin could see their rescuers.

  Nish grasped him on the shoulder. “Is everyone out?”

  Duin nodded. “This building is clear.”

  “Those are empty.” Eb pointed to structures in the distance.

  Families joyfully reunited as they headed across the marshes and away from the compound.

  “Get them far away from here, fast as they can swim.” Duin gestured to the escaping Glin. “Don’t let anyone return.”

  “Where are you going, my friend?” Nish asked.

  “The algae processing plant. There are still workers there.”

  A patrol of Tikati guards rounded the corner. When they saw the escaping prisoners, they enlarged to their full, threatening size. Bursts of flame shot from their weapons. Several of the Glin screamed in terror.

  But Duin, Nish and Eb were armed with zap-guns. The weapons were designed—with Duin’s input—by specialists at ACCESS. These didn’t shoot bullets, lasers or fire. Instead, they enhanced the natural bio-electrical charge of the Glin, hurtling bolts of lightning over a distance.

  Eb ran at the guards. “Death to the enemies of liberation! For water and freedom!”

  Within seconds, the patrol joined the other dead Tikati wherever it was that Tikati went after they died. The dark heart of their dying world, Duin hoped.

  Duin waved his arm. “Go. I’ll catch up with you at Wide Water.”

  Nish and Eb nodded in acknowledgment and ran after the freed Glin.

  Duin headed in the opposite direction, down a long, narrow courtyard. Activating his suit and slinging his zap-gun over his shoulder, he climbed a metal ladder up the side of a large cement tank. He peered over the top of the ladder. Only his face was visible, as the high-tech camouflage helmet made the rest of his head look like the dark, cloudy sky behind him.

  In the faint green light emanating from the algae in the tanks, Duin counted six Tikati guards spaced out across the facility, and more than two dozen prisoners. He pulled himself over the top and crept along a catwalk toward the nearest Glin. Ducking down alongside a contraption of pulleys, cables and gears, he deactivated his suit and spoke quickly to the surprised worker.

  “I am Duin, elder of Long River. Earth hunters are coming to destroy this place, and cleanse it of Tikati. You’ve got to leave. Get everyone out of here, as fast as you can. Head across the marshes.”

  “But, the guards. They have fire.”

  Duin gripped the zap-gun in his hand. “And I have justice.”

  He bounded up and ran straight for the first guard. Duin shot a burst of lightning that crackled over the creature’s thick skin, killing it and drawing the attention of the other guards. Spouts of flame erupted from their weapons. The fire didn’t have much of a range. But if they converged on him, this suit wouldn’t be able to withstand several point-blank flamethrowers.

  He shot lightning at two more guards, who plummeted into the tanks below.

  Soon, every Tikati in the compound would be aware of his presence. That was fine with him. Let them come. It would help the prisoners escape.

  He stepped over the railing of the catwalk and leaped, sailing through the air and landing on another walkway some thirty feet away. Running across the network of catwalks, he tried to find a way down. But all of his exits were blocked as more Tikati emerged from the compound and closed in.

  Duin shot any Tikati that would come within range, and then zapped the metal network of catwalks itself, which killed a satisfying number of Tikati all at one time. But he couldn’t keep that up for long. Duin heard the bang of projectiles and wondered if the Tikati were firing his own weapons at him, the ones they took when he was captured. Bullets whistled past him, pinging on the metal machinery. Something large-caliber hit the catwalk and blew a hole in it, causing the walkway to rock dangerously.

  “Time for a swim.” He swung over the railing and hung from it by an arm and a leg. Then he took out a grenade, activated it and dropped it into the tank below.

  A roaring explosion ruptured the side of the tank, and Duin let go of the catwalk. He hit the surface in a dive and was carried out by the rush of the escaping water. The flow spilled over onto the roof of the control center and washed across several waiting Tikati. Duin landed on the platform and loosed a burst of lightning from his zapper. The electricity was conducted through the water and all of the Tikati dropped dead.

  “Glorious,” he chortled happily, getting up and slogging to the side of the roof. There was no ladder here and no water below for him to land in. He’d have to go down through the building.

  As he ran for the door, he was grabbed from behind and the zap-gun ripped from his hand. An immense Tikati grasped Duin by both wrists and threw him against the wall. Its razor-toothed mouth clamped down on Duin’s helmet, ripping it off his head and spitting it aside.

  Flickering eyes and a sickening smile loomed over him.

  “Envoy Duin,” said Kitik as if he were pleasantly surprised. “How goes the cause of liberty?”

  Duin’s hands flared with bio-elecricity, but the Tikati liaison wore gloves that deflected the zap.

  “Oh, liberty is not going very well, I see,” said Kitik in mock sympathy.

  Duin grumbled two words.

  “What’s that, a murmur of fear?” Kitik’s glowing eyes were so close, they filled Duin’s field of vision. “What? No grand declarations, no poetic arguments, no indignant eloquence? You disappoint me, ambassador.”

  “No. Humans have an idiom, and it expresses my feelings thoroughly.”

  “And what is that?”

  “‘Fuck you.’”

  With a vicious crack, Duin slammed his forehead into the middle of Kitik’s skull. The Tikati reeled from the blow and he grasped Kitik’s long neck.

  “Awah na glem!” Duin snarled, zapping the liaison dead even as he crushed its plated throat.

  Kitik’s corpse collapsed at his feet. Duin retrieved his zap-gun and ran into the building. At the bottom of the stairs, he emerged on a narrow platform above the control center. There were more Tikati below, but their flamethrowers couldn’t reach him. After killing one with his zap-gun, they retreated.

  He jumped down and made his way across the top of the machinery to pursue them. But he realized—too late—that they’d retreated so they could blow up the control center, and him in it. When he jumped from the machinery to the floor, the room erupted, and Duin fell in a shower of debris. It felt like a thousand fists pummeled him to the ground.

  Duin was on his side, crushed between concrete and metal. He had one arm free, the other was pinned under the rubble along with the rest of him. Through a fog of pain, he was vaguely aware of flashing lights and the distant screech of angry Tikati. He wondered if the Marines had come early. Or if Nish and Eb had come looking for him. He tried to call out, but it was too painful. His mouth filled with blood, and it was difficult to breathe.

  The only thought which surfaced from the spinning darkness was J’ni and her voice resonating through his mind. “I love you, Duin.”

  “Thank you.” He mouthed the words, and hoped that somewhere, somehow, she heard him. It seemed that he could smell her, the salty, wet smell that reminded him of a storm over the Great Ocean.

  A black-hel
meted head loomed over him. He tried to focus and saw his own reflection in the visor. The helmet was pulled away, revealing a halo of viridian.

  No, it wasn’t possible. It was a vision. A desperate vision. But her tears fell on his lips and cheeks, and he felt her moist mouth kissing him.

  “I’m here.”

  “J’ni.” Duin’s voice was a strained whisper.

  The gunfire ceased, and Duin could make out a thin shape, moving debris to free him.

  The pressure on Duin’s chest lessened, and he coughed out a mouthful of blood. “Belloc…”

  “Yes, Duin.” The younger Glin pulled off his helmet and crouched down.

  Duin summoned every drop of strength he had and, with his free hand, smacked Belloc across the face. “You ezzub. Why did you bring her here?”

  “She would have come without me.” Belloc grasped Duin’s hand. “You know that.”

  “I give you one thing to do…keep her safe…and make her happy… I give you two things to do…”

  Belloc squeezed his hand. “You talk too much. Shut up and move.”

  But Duin’s body wouldn’t do what he told it to do, despite Belloc’s help. His vision blurred, and he didn’t know if it was due to impending unconsciousness, or the thickening of his eyes with tears of pain. He gasped. “I can’t.”

  “Since when is the word can’t in your translator?”

  “Duin, please,” J’ni pleaded, leaning over him again. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Go.” He groaned the word. “They’re going to attack…blow up the dams. Everything will flood.”

  The room shook with the vibrations of a distant explosion. Belloc reflexively threw himself over J’ni, pushing her closer to Duin.

  “I will return to you in the rain,” Duin whispered into her hair. “I promise.”

  “No!” J’ni was screaming, but it sounded so far away, as though he was hearing her from underwater. He was sorry to cause her so much pain…sorry that he wouldn’t live to see Glin freed…sorry that he wouldn’t be at the wedding…sorry that he would never kiss her again.

  And then he smiled.

  What a wonderful thing it was, to regret dying.

  ***

  Duin smiled for a moment. Then his eyes closed, and his face grew still. J’ni called his name, over and over, but he couldn’t hear her.

  Belloc placed a hand on the back of her head. “We must go, J’ni.”

  She tried to pull Duin free herself.

  “J’ni, there are more Tikati coming. We must go.”

  “Then get him out and let’s go!” Her face was streaked with Glin blood and human tears.

  “It’s too late for Duin.”

  “No, it’s not, he’s unconscious. This happened before.”

  Creaking metal caught Belloc’s attention and he twisted to his feet, firing his Multi high above their heads, aiming for the doorway that led out to the roof. His laser cut through two Tikati.

  J’ni grabbed her own Multi and launched the last of her rockets. The explosions caused the doorway and what was left of the platform to collapse. No more Tikati could enter.

  “Whether he’s dead or alive, I won’t leave him here!” She kicked at the rubble covering Duin’s legs.

  Two more Tikati entered through the door at their backs. One lunged at Belloc, trying to knock him down. Its mouth clamped onto his right arm and he dropped his Multi. Belloc’s gloves flared and zapped the Tikati dead.

  The other Tikati grabbed J’ni, flinging her violently into the broken machinery. Belloc was afraid to use his zap, for fear that the electric current might hurt her, too. Instead, he picked up a piece of twisted metal and swung it with the full force of his Glin strength, batting the creature’s bobbing head off its neck and sending the head flying across the room.

  Another explosion rocked the room as Belloc crouched over J’ni. She was bleeding from a gash across the back of her head, and one leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. He lifted her in his arms and she cried out in pain. But her injuries were not the cause of her anguish.

  “Don’t leave him,” she begged.

  “J’ni…”

  “Put me down! I won’t leave without him.”

  “You won’t. You are J’ni Nagyx Duin. You are One. Forever.”

  “Screw that Glinnish soulbound crap, I want him with me!”

  Belloc gripped her to his chest and looked her right in the eyes. “And I want you with me. I am not going to lose you. You are my wife, J’ni. Anah!” He yelled the word as he carried her out of the room. “Anah!”

  The building shook so hard that the rumbling drowned out all other sound. But Belloc could still feel it in his bones as she shrieked. “Duin!”

  Then she lost consciousness.

  ***

  Someone was singing. It was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard.

  J’ni opened her eyes. The singing stopped and she felt a cool, webbed hand take hers as she tried to focus. When she saw blue, she squeezed her eyes shut again.

  “Belloc.”

  “J’ni.”

  Now she heard other sounds. Distant voices, chimes, a high electrical whine. “Where are we?”

  “Still on Glin. In a U.S. base called Camp Watersnake.”

  Still on Glin.

  She recalled obtaining weapons and suits from Hax, and a ship from Blaze. The colonel told them that Duin was involved in a U.S. offensive against the Tikati, and that he was helping to evacuate the Progress Center before it was bombed. Belloc had flown her there.

  But they were too late.

  Now she remembered. And how she wished she could forget, could sink into the darkness of unconsciousness and not see him trapped within the collapsed control room, not hear his whispers to her, not recall the fucking monsters that had attacked them and almost killed her, forcing Belloc to leave Duin behind to save her.

  As her hand went to the stone hanging above her heart, her face twisted in agony and she began to sob.

  “J’ni, meh,” Belloc said soothingly, stroking her cheek. “J’ni, speh gah. Buh oola vinishay.”

  But how could she not cry? At that moment, she couldn’t imagine an end to tears. J’ni lost herself completely in the wordless oblivion of grief and was so far gone, that she didn’t hear someone else enter the room.

  “Nagloim, are you trying to replenish the rivers of Glin?”

  She opened her eyes and her body shuddered with hiccuping gasps. “Duin?”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed, grimacing in pain from injuries that were still not entirely healed. “You must calm down. They can hear you on Asteria.”

  She continued to cry, but the cause was elation and not grief. “You were crushed.” She tried to push aside her exhaustion and pain to reach out and touch him. He took her hand—the hand Belloc wasn’t holding.

  “I needed a little medical assistance when I arrived. I had a punctured lung and several broken bones.” Duin indicated his chest, and various parts of his body. “But eventually, my natural healing ability took over, I’ve recovered as well as you have, with your nano-surgery and gen-mods. Though, I still won’t be hunting any r’naw for awhile.”

  “I thought you were dead.”

  “I’m not,” he replied, as if it wasn’t obvious. “I’m here.”

  “How did you get out?”

  Duin looked at Belloc. “He carried us. Or, carried you. Dragged me, if all that ‘road rash’ was any indication.”

  “He saved both of us?”

  “Yes, he’s a dumbass.” But the warmth in his voice told J’ni that he felt otherwise. “He should have left me to die. I wouldn’t blame him one bit for leaving me lying there, as useless to him as a skinned wallump.”

  Belloc leaned over the side of the bed and spoke directly to Duin. “I would rather fail in doing what’s right, than succeed in doing what’s wrong.”

  “How would it be wrong?” Duin argued. “You’d have her all to yourself, and you’d have revenge fo
r your family.”

  “Even if I left you there, I’d never have her all to myself. As for revenge, I’d rather forgive.”

  Belloc reached out and put his hand over Duin’s and J’ni’s. He’d said anah. She remembered that, too. The three of them were married.

  “I could not forgive the Tikati for taking my family—for killing my family. Yes, J’ni, I know what happened. Belloc showed me the vids you received from the Finders. And if Belloc had judged me by the same standard as I judged the Tikati, judged me for taking away his family, I would not be here.”

  Belloc smiled and kissed J’ni on the forehead. “I learned mercy from a very wise judge.”

  ***

  The sky was a wrinkled quilt of dark gray roiling clouds. The air twinkled with mist and glowing weeol. Between tufts of high, turquoise grass, krich beetles said their names. A river sang in the distance.

  J’ni dipped her hand into a pool of luminescent algae. “Glin is beautiful.”

  Duin spread his arms and took a deep breath. “Even more so, now that it is free.”

  The Progress Center and several other Tikat installations were gone, bombed into non-existence. Most of the Tikati were also gone, and any remaining were being rounded up by the U.S. military. Duin would have been involved in those operations as well, had he not been wounded. Using Tucloup’s translator, Nish was assisting the humans and acting as liaison of the Freedom Council during Duin’s—and J’ni’s—recuperation. When Glin was secure and the Tikati gone, the U.S. promised to send scientists who would help Duin’s world recover from its ecological devastation.

  But none of that would bring back Willup W’Kuay.

  “I’m so sorry about your family, Duin.” J’ni spoke quietly, so that her words might have been lost in the wind that rustled the marsh grass.

  But Duin could hear her. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Your sympathy is a welcome gift.”

  “I wish I’d been the one to tell you what happened.”

  “Belloc didn’t know when you would regain consciousness.” His voice started out strong, but wavered as he went on. “I needed to know what happened, and I needed to share those vids with Earth, Belloc knew that. And we needed to send someone out there to bring them h—” Home. His voice choked on the word as he lost his composure.