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Wandering Storm

Page 15

by Steven Anderson


  I was still breathing, which was a surprise, and I rejoiced at each new beat of my heart. Escape from Costrano’s Redoubt was impossible, but maybe something would present itself at medivac, or wherever they’d take me from there. Maybe if I could reach Kastanje…

  The bodies of the squad that had defended me were laid out under the tail of the FAC. Major Alaoui and eight men and women that I’d never get to know. I stopped and stared at them, wondering why it had been their fate to die.

  “Yeah, that’s them. They gave us a hell of a fight before we could break through to rescue you. You can go give them a kick or spit on them if you like. We’ll wait.”

  I almost told them who I was right then, thinking it better to take my place with the dead than continue the uncertain lie I was trying to tell. I touched my watch and smiled, thinking of the lock of Winona’s hair under the band. She whispered in my head. No, not a whisper, a solid whack against my forehead. Don’t be an idiot, Duse.

  I shook my head. “They can’t hurt anymore.”

  “Damn straight. Hey, that was like a complete sentence. Maybe you’re gonna be OK.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  Medivac was not as crowded as I’d expected. Our drones had not left behind many wounded and I was the only customer. “What you got there, Sergeant Narvasa?”

  “Not sure, Doc, one of the FAC engineers, I think. Her brain’s a little FUBAR. We haven’t got a name out of her yet.”

  “That’s typical for you, isn’t it? Not knowing the name of the girl you’re with?”

  The other soldier, a private by his single stripe, laughed, and then quickly looked away.

  “Names aren’t that important sometimes, you know? Hey, we gotta go back out. You’ll take her from here?”

  “I’ll take her. You boys stay safe.” He looked at me, head tipped with professional concern. “So, what’s this you have all over you?”

  “Hydraulic fluid, type twenty-six T, and light machine oil, probably number fourteen based on the smell.” I licked my lips. “And the taste.”

  He chuckled. “Well, you sound like an engineer. What’s your name?”

  I’d been dreading that question. “You’re from Becker’s Redoubt?” I asked.

  “That’s right. Doctor Gharda.” He put a patch on my arm, checking vitals.

  “My name is Kamala Sohonie.”

  He glanced up from the display on my arm, one eyebrow raised. “Really? I just saw your name among the dead, “Kamala”. Care to try again?”

  “It must have been a mistake. There are a lot of dead and so much confusion. See?” I tapped the patch on my arm that showed my pulse. “I’m still alive.” I smiled at him, trying to look innocent, or at least sincere.

  “Look, I don’t know who you are or how you managed to convince Sergeant Narvasa that you were one of Costrano’s engineers…no, that part was probably easy, but you play straight with me right now if you want to keep on living.”

  I chewed my lower lip for a second before answering in a whisper. “Second Lieutenant Mala Dusa Holloman, RuComm, on assignment to the Union Aerospace Force.” I expected to die, and prayed that they would lay me next to Major Alaoui’s body.

  “Uh huh. That’s a worse lie than your first one.”

  I blinked at him a few times, trying to recover. “It’s the truth! I know I’m going to die now, the least you can do is record my death under the right name.”

  “You’re the creator of Holloman armor?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Daughter of Hannah Weldon?”

  “You know my stepmom?”

  It was his turn to blink back at me. “Weldon’s not your biological mother?”

  “No, Alice Vandermeer was. Hannah adopted me when I was just a couple of months old, when she and my dad got married.”

  “I’d never heard that part of the story.” He sighed. “I suppose you’re telling me the truth. I wish you weren’t; it would be a whole lot easier to just turn you over and forget you ever existed. But Weldon would find out, and then she’d find me.”

  He looked around the small apartment where the medivac was set up, looking for an easy answer that wasn’t there. “You’re very badly injured, Engineer Sohonie. We need to get you back to Becker’s Redoubt right away. No, better yet, we need to get you to Central Hospital in Oranjestad, back on the surface.”

  “OK. What do you need me to do?”

  “I’ll call for a couple of men to carry you by stretcher, men that I trust. Your job is to lie there not talking. Moaning occasionally would be all right. Think you can handle that?”

  I moaned a little and he rolled his eyes. “You’re going to get us both killed. Just lie there unconscious.”

  I laid down on a cot with my eyes closed and waited for transport to take me away. Doctor Gharda told the men to be careful, and then I reached out for Sam while I rocked back and forth for several minutes as they carried me toward freedom. My Samuel was there on the edge of my thoughts, in agony. I tried my best to comfort him, to let him know that I was still OK, but it was hard to keep the connection. Something was interfering, as if part of our link was going somewhere else.

  “Where are you taking that girl, Doctor?” The voice had an odd quality to it, as if the man speaking expected obedience, and something more, something unstable that made me instantly afraid.

  “Ah, Mr. Costrano. She was injured, so I’m sending her down to the hospital in Oranjestad for emergency surgery.”

  “She doesn’t look hurt, just…messy.”

  “Internal injuries.”

  “Of course.”

  I felt something pressing my stomach and I opened my eyes the tiniest slit. An Ovcharka had his whole head lying across the middle of me. I would have felt his breath on my arm if it had been a real dog, but Tarakana don’t breathe that way. He was starting to slither into my brain too, and I couldn’t keep him out. He was seeing things I didn’t want him to see. I closed my eyes tight as fear built up in me. I could feel how happy he was when I started to moan.

  “Sir, I really need to take her down there. Time is of the essence.”

  “Doctor, I never did really trust you.”

  There was a grunt and I opened my eyes wide, since pretending to be hurt no longer mattered. Doctor Gharda was kneeling next to me, twenty centimeters of blade sticking out of his chest just below the sternum. His eye looked startled at first and then went glassy. He toppled onto his face when Costrano pulled his sword back with a quick, sharp motion, and I listened to Doctor Gharda’s last breath come out as a long sigh.

  Artem Costrano leaned forward then, examined me closely, and shook his head. “I don’t know you.” He touched my hair, moving it away from my face and I flinched away from him. “No, I don’t know you at all, but it seems the Puca do, and the Puca are my friends.”

  CHAPTER 10

  COSTRANO

  “Why are you two still standing there?”

  The men carrying the stretcher dumped me on the stone floor. I winced when I hit and struggled to my feet. I backed up a couple of steps and both of the Caucasian Ovcharkas followed, alert and eager.

  “Pick that up and get it out of here.” Costrano pointed at Doctor Gharda’s body, and then grinned at me. “Don’t worry, my dogs won’t hurt you. Yet.”

  I swallowed hard, trying to get my voice back. “Not dogs, Tarakana. And they aren’t very happy with you right now. Something about killing the Doctor. That wasn’t what they wanted you to do. I can feel their anger and disappointment.”

  He tipped his head, still grinning. “I read a paper once where they were called ‘Tarakana’. Puca is a better name for them, more ancient, a name from when they only existed on Earth. And you know what they are! Not many do, and few would admit to the possibility that they exist. I think you and I are going to have some fun.”


  He took a step toward me, pointing at me with the sword covered in Doctor Gharda’s blood. I retreated and the Puca that had been exploring my thoughts blocked his path.

  “Huh.” He put the sword back in its sheath. “I wasn’t going to kill her.” He looked back at me. “Sweet Jesus, they’re all pissy now because I killed the Doctor outright. They do so love to feel suffering, and you and your Union friends didn’t leave much here for them. Your damn drones just kill. Very efficient, but too clean and painless to be of use.”

  He took another step toward me and I stepped backwards into the stone wall of the drift, hitting the back of my skull against the rock. Both Puca tipped their heads when I put my hand over where I’d hit. It came back with a little blood mixed in with the oil and hydraulic fluid.

  “Oh, that’s extraordinary. How did you do that?” He put his hand on the back of his head. “I felt that through them.” He knelt down and put his forehead against one of the dogs’ faces. “Show me,” he whispered.

  I looked around, wondering if it was worthwhile trying to run. Costrano and the two Puca were the only ones there, but where would I go? I decided I didn’t care. Costrano was obviously insane and planning to kill me, probably slowly with my brain all full of hungry Puca thoughts. I ran, not knowing where I was going, hoping for a quick death if I couldn’t find escape.

  Puca number two kept pace with me easily, loping along by my side, tongue hanging out and glancing at me from time to time. I gave up after five hundred meters and sat down to wait. The Puca stayed by my side, eyes locked on me, head cocked to the side. I couldn’t really feel anything from him other than a cold satisfaction.

  Costrano caught up after about five minutes and stood directly over me, looking down. I hadn’t realized how tall he was until then, how skinny looking. I wondered idly if he had Dulcinean ancestry in him somewhere. “Well, I’m glad you got that out of your system. You literally have no place to run, no possibility of escape. Why don’t you come back with me? You can clean yourself up and we’ll have lunch. With all the excitement here this morning, I haven’t had a chance to eat yet.”

  He sounded so calm now, completely rational, and almost cordial. I nodded and got to my feet. “I guess I could use a shower. How do I know you’re not planning on poisoning me?”

  “I can kill you whenever I like, however I like, so why worry about it?”

  He smiled at me and my stomach tied itself into a knot.

  “Besides, my friends seem to want you alive and unharmed for the time being, so have your shower and we’ll eat and get to know each other. I had planned on spending some time this afternoon raping you, but they won’t even let me do that.” He shrugged, disappointed, while my heart skipped five or six beats.

  His eyes closed half way and he smiled gently to himself, rocking a little. “I felt that. That was so intense. God, it would have been wonderful.” He touched the Puca closest to him. “Are you sure? OK, fine. I guess that’s fine.”

  I took the fastest shower in my life, keeping my eyes open even as soap and oil residue from the FAC streamed over my face. Clothes were waiting for me when I stepped out and dried off. A white peasant dress, almost ankle length, sleeveless with the top cut low enough to show the cleavage I didn’t have. No underwear. No shoes.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” The Puca sitting by the door tipped his head at me. “Pants would be nice, and something to wear under them. And a shirt.” He turned his head back level and I could feel his amusement.

  “You could come to lunch as you are. I’d be more than OK with that.”

  Costrano. I spun around, trying to see where the monitors were, trying to cover myself with the towel, not that it mattered. Despair filled my mind as the reality of my situation hit me. Nothing mattered. Why even try anymore? I wanted to feel angry, but there was too much fear. It overwhelmed me, wave after wave of it. The Puca was watching me, enjoying every second of my panic, literally eating it up. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe and reaching for a level of control I did not possess.

  “Oh, Sam,” I whispered again. I’d been calling his name silently every few minutes and felt nothing in return. “Samuel!” I screamed it this time, bent over double, and there he was. A brief flash, but it was enough. Sam was still out there, still alive, still in love with me. I felt the pulse of joy from him before the jamming from the Puca wiped it away again. Sam mattered, and I mattered to him.

  The Puca was startled. It made me smile and I stared back at him. “Pants and something to wear under them. And a shirt. And shoes.”

  He trotted to the far end of the communal bath where I’d showered, and I followed him until we reached a locker room with a small closet with gray clothing stacked on the shelves. I couldn’t see any underwear or pants, but it looked like there were coveralls and boots. “Better, especially if one of those will fit me.” I tried to step past him, but he blocked my path and pushed up against my legs. “Get out of the way. I am not going to touch you.”

  Too late. Something wrapped around my bare legs all the way to the waist and then I couldn’t see the locker room any more.

  “What are you, little thing? Show me. You’re more than just a Union engineer who knows about our existence. That’s what I thought you were, and that was bad enough.”

  Somewhere, back inside Costrano’s Redoubt, my body was still naked and exposed to the Puca and whoever else might be watching. Inside the group mind, it was worse. I don’t like it much when Merrimac penetrates into my thoughts and I’ve no place to hide, but he’s my friend and I know he won’t hurt me. This felt as if I had been strapped to a table and I was unable to move or defend myself.

  I tried to answer. “Second Lieutenant Mala Dusa Holloman, RuComm, on assignment to…” I screamed when he started to pull my brain apart. I tried to get away, but where can you run when the devil has his teeth in your soul?

  I was sitting on the floor, cold and shaking when I came out of it. I had no idea how long I’d been in there; it could have been a couple of seconds or a week. My face was wet with tears that I had no memory of crying. “…Union Aerospace Force,” I finished with a gasp.

  There were three Puca there with me now, one with a tentacle coming from under him somewhere that wrapped around my bare foot and half way up my leg. I could feel the hum of their thoughts as they explored all the twisted paths of reality. I wondered if any of the possible futures still had a living Mala Dusa in them.

  “See how quickly it came back? Interesting to have created both fragility and resilience in a single piece. What is Merrimac’s intention? And then to send it here, knowing we would take it…”

  “You should let me go, let me get out of here.”

  “That is one possibility. We have something for you to do before we reach that branch.” There was malicious joy in his thoughts. “You’re late for lunch. Move along quickly.”

  “Clothes first.”

  His impatience flooded into me. “Fine. This would be better if you went without clothes, but it’s not worth the time it would take to force you.”

  I put on the smallest coveralls I could find, and the smallest boots that were only a little too large. The Puca was still in my head. “We’ve kept him from seeing you for the past fifteen minutes. Play up how you look, throw it in his face that you’re not in the dress he selected.”

  “Why would I…” I felt dizzy suddenly and then watched powerless as my hand pulled the front zipper down from my neck, lower, down to the bottom of my breastbone.

  “There. That should do it. No more resisting, Little Soul of Merrimac, or I’ll let him do what he wants with you and be done with it. I can deal with the consequences when they come.”

  “OK,” I managed to whisper.

  Costrano was unhappy that I had kept him waiting, and even less pleased with my appearance.

  “God damn you, how did you even find that thing
you’re wearing? And how did you disable my cameras? I am finished coddling you, no matter what my friends are asking me to do. You are not worth it. You are not worth anything. You’re just an ugly, skinny girl, like all the others I knew on Dulcinea. I had hoped you would have cleaned up better than this.”

  I walked up close to him, unable to stop myself, feeling the powerful Tarakana-Puca hum screaming in my head. His eyes were right where the Puca wanted them to be, staring at the exposed skin of my chest. They were feeding on his fury and his lust, and the only thought in my head was to crank it up as far as I possibly could.

  “What I wear is for my own pleasure, and you can go to hell if you don’t like it.” I yanked the zipper down the rest of the way to my navel and arched my back a little. “Where’s the lunch you promised me?”

  He grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me up against him, his other hand circling my waist before I could even think about trying to move away. I made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a yelp. The Puca were washing all of my own thoughts away until only what they wanted still mattered to me. The little piece of me that remained was watching in horror at the way my body was responding. It wanted him to squeeze me tighter, to answer his lust and fury with its own. When he bent down to kiss me, the last part of my brain that I controlled whimpered in revulsion at what was about to happen.

  He stopped. “I feel that, your terror. It’s extraordinary. I taste it. And there’s lust in there that’s almost filled you up.” He licked his lips, moved his hands to my shoulders and pulled hard. The coveralls dropped down my arms all the way to the wrists. “That’s what you want. The intensity of how much they’re making you want it is uncontrollable. Don’t fight it anymore. You were right to choose this instead of the dress. Seeing you like this, being able to know the lust in you and the fear, and soon the exquisite pain…This is going to be perfect.”

  “No. No, I don’t want it.” It was a lie. The Puca had almost complete control now and there was just the tiniest sliver of me left trying to resist. I forced myself to back away from him until I bumped into a table, catching myself with my hands behind me.

 

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