“The more you know about a culture, the more you know about how they might fight back. I won’t bother you with the fine details of the story, other than to note that a weaker man defeated a stronger man when the stronger man had every reason to expect he would win.”
Commander Laralan looked to his side, where a smooth-headed, spindly, pale, silver-eyed female humanoid sat. She was his comms officer.
This was what the humans didn’t understand. The Alliance fleet didn’t represent a single planet or race, but nine different species who had come together over the centuries to be stronger and better. The Vax were one of the few true threats to their continued cooperation and advancement. The commander couldn’t let human stubbornness allow a major threat to escape, even if he had to earn some enmity.
“Comms, notify the fleet to prepare to enter orbit and prepare for bombardment,” Commander Laralan barked. “This human is just stalling for time.”
Senator Johnston laughed and clapped. “Yes, my alien friend, I was in fact stalling for time.”
Commander Laralan glared at the human. This situation was serious, and Senator Johnston was acting like it was an amusing game to him. The human’s own people were about to die, and he was showing no respect. Disgusting.
“You’ve accomplished nothing,” Commander Laralan explained. “Again, I’m sorry for what we have to do. It brings me no pleasure, not that it seems to bother you.”
Senator Johnston clucked his tongue. “You won’t be getting anywhere near Earth. You’re going to stop and fly back to the moon until James Brownstone is done introducing a little liberty and justice for all to that Vax. If you don’t, I’m afraid we’re going to have to destroy your fleet.”
“I don’t know much about Earth or American culture, Senator, but it’s hard to make threats when you already admitted you don’t have weapons. On my planet, you don’t make threats you can’t back up.”
“I never said I didn’t have weapons. I just said this vimana doesn’t have any offensive weapons. It’s useful in a different way.” Senator Johnston’s annoying grin returned.
“And what’s that?”
Senator Johnston glanced to his side and nodded at someone off-screen. “For one thing, it’s a nice big collective relay for magical power. The great part about it is you don’t even have to have all the magicals on the damned thing to relay their power.”
Commander Laralan frowned, unsure if he should order the fleet to destroy the vimana or bypass it. If the vimana could act as a bomb, as he suspected, the humans might be channeling magical power into it for a suicide attack.
“Comms, order the fleet to—”
Two portals appeared in different corners of the bridge. Before Fleet Commander Laralan could get off a command, wizards and witches in dark fatigues rushed out, their wands up, glowing magical forcefields spread out in front of them.
The bridge’s security guard pulled out a pulse pistol and aimed at the closest invader. He fired off a blast, a bright crackle of white energy, but it struck the shield and disappeared in a flash. The commander yanked out his own pistol and pointed the weapon at another intruder.
A single American Marine in an exoskeleton emerged from each of the portals with a railgun in hand. A third Marine appeared with no weapon, holding up a large black metal box with the help of the exoskeleton. He set it down. “This is Eagle Four. The Roman Candle has been delivered, Sky Castle.”
“Get more security up here!” Commander Laralan ordered. He glared at Senator Johnston. “This was your brilliant plan? Use magic to send a few troops and take the bridge? This mission will continue even if you kill me and the other commanders.”
Senator Johnston shook his head. “No, you misunderstand. This isn’t about killing you. This is about obliterating your entire fleet. Let me lay it out for you: on each of your four ships, there is now a similar team. The last man who entered is carrying what we call on Earth a suitcase nuke.” He scoffed. “Of course, we need a Marine in an exoskeleton to easily carry the thing. Anyway, I’m guessing that all your fancy technology might help you survive a nuke if we fired it from the outside, but it probably won’t do much if we set it off on the inside.”
“This is a trick,” Commander Laralan shouted, still pointing his weapon at a nearby stone-faced witch.
“Do some fancy alien scan if you don’t believe me.” Senator Johnston snorted. “Also, let me introduce another Earth concept to you: a dead man switch. There’s a spell on the devices. If everyone on one of those teams dies, boom. If the vimana gets taken out, boom. We can die together, my alien friend, but no one has to.”
The commander lowered his weapon, looked at his sensor operator, and nodded.
The sensor operator swallowed as his hands flew over the virtual controls. He grimaced and returned the nod.
Commander Laralan’ eyes bulged. “Do you understand what you’re doing, human? Do you have any concept? There are thousands of Alliance personnel on these ships.”
Senator Johnston’s smile vanished, replaced by a mask of rage. “And you’re threatening to kill thousands of Americans, civilian and military,” he shouted, his face reddening. “Don’t you dare lecture me about killing people unnecessarily when you’re sitting above my planet with warships, ready to raze one of our cities.”
“No, we’re going to protect your planet. Some sacrifices are necessary for the greater good.”
Senator Johnston scoffed. “You back the hell up and let Brownstone do his thing, or you’re going to have to make the ultimate sacrifice for your mission.”
The human and the alien stared at each other, both wearing their anger openly.
“Your people would die too,” Commander Laralan noted.
“Yes, they would.” Senator Johnston’s expression softened. “Which is unfortunate, but they’re all volunteers who knew what they signed up for. They’re willing to do what they need to protect their country from your particular foreign threat.”
The magicals and Marines stood tall, their wands and weapons at the ready. One of the Marines gave a curt nod to Commander Laralan.
Even if the alien didn’t understand everything about Earth, he knew the look of a warrior ready to die to defend his homeland. Some things were universal.
“Send an order to the fleet,” Commander Laralan began. “We’ll pull back to the moon and let the humans sacrifice unnecessary lives while they place their trust in a remorseless killer.”
Senator Johnston’s fake smile returned. “No, we’re placing our faith in a flawed but good man. Don’t worry, though. It’s not like we don’t have a few cards left to play.”
22
“Sir.” The pilot of the helicopter spoke through his headset to James. “We’ve got eyes on the target. It is currently near Jefferson and Vermont, about five minutes away. Target has demonstrated anti-air capability and taken out all the drones in the area, but they still have it on stationary local cameras.”
“Jefferson and Vermont?” James chuckled. He was strapped into a seat in the back of the small utility helicopter. The concrete and steel jungle zoomed past below him. “So the Oricerans were right and the fucker is near USC. I wonder if Shay will be happy if we bust up her rival school.”
“Sir?”
“Don’t worry about it,” James replied. “You can’t get too close. He’ll take you out, and this thing is a lot larger than a drone.”
“We’re going to stay low, sir. I’ll get you in nice and close. Hold on tight.” The helicopter banked and dove, passing between two high-rise buildings.
James growled. “Fuck that. You make sure you’re out of the line of fire. Just get me a few minutes closer, and I’ll bail from there. I can move pretty fast once I start. The area’s clear, right? Because if I need to let loose, I don’t want to have to worry about random people wandering in.”
“Far as I know, sir.”
Engage and kill primary enemy, Whispy demanded.
Yeah, we’re gonna do that, but
I’m not gonna sacrifice this pilot on the way.
Plumes of smoke rose from all over the city, most having nothing to do with the alien. The Vax might have begun his assault, but the passive damage from millions of people fleeing for their lives had already been done. The helicopter waggled back and forth to avoid buildings and smoke.
Military vehicles roamed the streets, and the occasional squad of soldiers on foot rushed up a road a hundred feet below the helicopter. A smattering of civilian vehicles screamed down the empty streets. Even rarer, some people stepped out of a building to watch the skies.
Too many people still here. Fucking Purifier got too eager. Why couldn’t you have waited a week?
Kill the enemy, Whispy responded. Achieve primary directive.
Green light flashed in the distance. Something exploded in the air miles ahead, the smoke and debris trails visible.
“Shit,” the pilot.
James pulled the rings out of his pocket. “What’s going on?”
“Apparently, they were trying a Storm run, sir. The target blew it out of the sky.” The pilot sounded more angry than afraid.
“Storm run?”
“Big-ass close-attack semi-autonomous support platform, sir. The thing’s more bomb than plane.”
Idiots. All you’re doing is helping him adapt more. Leave this shit to me.
James grunted. “Okay, how far out are we now?”
“About two minutes, sir.”
The cloud of thick, dark smoke straight ahead marked the position of the Purifier. Another massive green blast erupted in the distance and struck a nearby building, and the top of the building fell to the ground in a shower of metal and glass.
The only thing preventing worse destruction was the modest height of the nearby buildings, but the Purifier was only a couple of miles from the heart of downtown LA and a whole forest of skyscrapers to cut down.
I need to stop this asshole before he really gets moving or just decides to fire in that direction.
“Stop here,” James ordered. “You get any closer, you’re fucking dead. Put me down here.”
“Roger that, sir,” the pilot replied.
The helicopter descended until it was hovering twenty feet off the ground.
“Good luck, sir,” the pilot offered. “I wish I had taken the time to get your autograph.”
James grinned from the back. “Look me up later and I’ll give you one.” He removed his headset, unbuckled his restraints, and jumped out of the helicopter, landing in a crouch.
The aircraft rose into the sky, its spinning blades kicking up the dust and rocks. The steady thump drowned out all other sounds as it turned around and fled the engagement zone.
It was time to get to work.
James grabbed the rings Shay had given him and pressed them against his amulet.
Drain them, and let’s go extended advanced, James ordered.
Alternative power source detected. Power sufficient for extended advanced transformation.
The biometallic tendrils shot from the amulet and coated James’ body. His helmet closed around his head, blinding him for a moment before his expanded range of vision came online. Twin blades extended from his arms, along with claws.
James took a few deep breaths. No rage or anger filled him, even as he prepared to face off against the Purifier. He was focused and ready to kick the visitor’s ass, but he was banking on his human mind to help him win. Whispy’s adaptations had given him advantages over the years, but maintaining control of the host-symbiont relationship might prove to be the most important of all of them.
Everything James knew about the Vax suggested the host became nothing more than a meat puppet, needed more for their body and cellular structure than their personality or consciousness. Maybe Whispy was unusual, but if he was at all representative of symbionts, they were good at adaptation but not necessarily any good at tactics. If the enemy was a mindless killer, James could use that against him.
Active symbiont signature detected, Whispy reported. Purifier transformation detected.
James snorted as another explosion shot flame and smoke into the sky.
Yeah, not worried about finding him. If you can sense him, he can sense me, and even though he’s making a big fucking show, he’s here for me. Let’s go say hello to the fucker.
James sprinted and leapt, his enhanced armored legs pushing him high into the air. He landed and jumped again; poor man’s flight, but he would arrive at the location of the Purifier within minutes, no helicopter needed.
A leap took him over several tanks parked in a line, their main guns pointed in the general direction of the Purifier. After a few more jumps, even the soldiers and military vehicles disappeared, leaving an empty expanse of concrete and glass—a hive of humanity without any people. There was nothing eerier than an empty city.
The heavy clouds of smoke loomed larger as James continued his travel toward the Vax. A green beam shot from the ground and swept through the area, slicing buildings in half. The entire area shook from the collapsing debris, and so much fire and debris now choked the air, it was hard to remember this was the middle of Los Angeles and not some blasted war-torn overseas hellhole.
In a matter of minutes, the Purifier had already broken James’ record for property damage, but that was just another grievance to add to the list. Whispy continued his demands for battle, but given that James was heading straight toward the enemy, he wasn’t sure if this was the symbiont’s version of murderous cheerleading.
James let out a low growl as he hurtled between some buildings. He hoped approaching the monster would get it to at least stall its attack.
“I’m not on your side, asshole,” James muttered. “And I’m about to prove it.”
Another leap sent him flying through the air. He cleared a low-lying building and saw the outline of his enemy. The armored form of the Purifier was obscured by thick smoke. Whatever endless light-years separated Earth from the Vax home world, only a hundred yards now remained between Earth’s Forerunner and the Vax Purifier.
Time to achieve the primary directive, James thought.
Whispy beamed excitement into his mind.
23
James marched down the street toward the Purifier, smoke and burning trees and buildings forming walls on either side. The other Vax walked forward. Neither armored man displayed any sense of urgency, their steps steady but slow, but at least the Purifier ceased his attacks. James’ immediate plan had worked.
Engage and destroy the enemy, Whispy demanded.
We’re gonna give him one chance to do this the easy way.
Achieve primary directive, Whispy insisted.
Shut it and get ready.
James continued closing on his opponent. The other Vax stood a good foot taller than him. He wasn’t sure if that meant the Purifier’s armor was bulkier, or if the host was taller. The two twitching shoulder appendages were one obvious point of departure. There was something very disgusting and insect-like about them.
“I should kick your ass for what you’ve done already,” James bellowed, his voice amplified by his helmet, “but I’m gonna give you one chance to leave here alive. Since you came here through a portal, I’m betting you can leave the same way, and not back via Oriceran, but all the way back to wherever the fuck you came from. If not, then we’re gonna have painful conversation that’s gonna end with you dead and your symbiont crying before I destroy it too.”
The Purifier responded with a bestial roar. He spread his arms and curled his clawed hands into fists, and his blades and claws retracted. A high-pitched whine followed.
What the fuck is that? James thought, unsure if the Purifier was pissed or ready to cooperate. He concentrated, and his own blades and claws disappeared. Talking it out wasn’t his style, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.
Symbiont data adaptation sharing request, Whispy explained. Direct contact necessary.
Wait, you telling me that if that fucker touches me, he gets all yo
ur adaptations?
No. Agreement necessary for symbiont adaptational sharing without override.
James grunted. The next few seconds would determine if he could defend the Earth after all his big talk. The fate of the planet might come down to the loyalty of a violence-obsessed alien biotechnological symbiont.
So the fucker wants my hard-earned secrets, James thought. But I think he’s a lazy son of a bitch who should have shown up when I got here years ago if he wanted this shit. I’m thinking he should fuck off and die.
Acknowledged. Enemy is Vax symbiont. Achieve primary directive of elimination of all Vax symbionts.
James grinned inside his helmet.
Go ahead and tell him that.
A harsh whine came from the armor. The Purifier let out another roar and raised his arms.
“Guess we’re gonna do this shit the hard way, huh?” James shouted. “Fine, fucker. There are a lot of dead people on Oriceran probably aching for a little revenge. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
The Purifier sprinted forward with a shout of challenge. All the previous lackadaisical movement was now a distant memory. James rushed forward, expecting Whispy to be shouting for blood, but the symbiont was eerily quiet—perhaps the closest it had ever come to showing true worry, despite its earlier desire for the battle.
They met near the corner of the intersection. Both Forerunner and Purifier threw up their fists and hit the other in the head, the sound so loud it almost sounded like a gunshot. The armored aliens flew backward from the force of each other’s blows.
James smashed into a tree. The trunk split with a loud crack, and the rest of the tree fell a few seconds later. The harsh blow might have knocked him a dozen yards, but even without rage fueling him, he barely felt it.
The Purifier hit the hard asphalt of the intersection, rolling several times before jumping back to his feet and roaring.
James sliced through the tree with a blade and pointed it at the Purifier. “You want to play a little, huh? You might be a mindless fucker under there, but you still have that urge to prove you’re tougher. But I’ve got a little something for you.” He jumped into the air and brought back a fist. “Let me give you your-welcome-to-Earth present, asshole.”
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