The Girls from Alcyone 2: The Machines of Bellatrix

by Cary Caffrey

  Suko lifted the startled CTF agent up to Leta's lowered hand, pulling her swiftly up through the smoking opening. Sigrid heard the agent squeal as her kicking heels disappeared through the hole.

  "After you," Suko said.

  Sigrid jumped. The hole was a good meter and a half above her head, but Sigrid reached it easily, pulling herself up and onto the roof. Trudy was already in position, assessing the situation, uploading her report directly to Sigrid's HUD.

  A total of three platoons were taking up position around Daisy's, freelancers and mercenaries alike. More armored personnel carriers completed the perimeter. They were completely surrounded, cut off and trapped on the rooftop. But Sigrid's thoughts were not of escape. She had sent out her invitation, and these men had been kind enough to show up.

  Miranda had hold of her sleeve, tugging emphatically. "These aren't the men you're looking for, Ms. Novak. I know. We need to get out of here, now."

  "I'm not running, Ms. Kane."

  Suko slid down next to her, her eSMG in her hand. "Whatever we're doing, we better do it fast. Looks like they brought air support."

  Sigrid didn't have to look. She could feel the low rumble of the heavy thrusters firing, growing louder. Still kilometers away, two air vehicles were moving quickly toward them. They were gunships, Thunderhawks, and they were moving fast, closing on their position. Quad cannon mounts extended from their sides, swinging into firing positions and taking aim.

  Sigrid looked about her; the rooftop offered little in terms of cover.

  "Ms. Novak—Sigrid! We need to move!"

  Indeed, they were outnumbered, and the situation was deteriorating quickly. But the agent was wrong about one thing. These mercenaries might not be the enemy she was looking for, but they were still men, and they still hunted them.

  "If you have a plan," Suko said, her eyes fixed on the incoming carriers, "now's the time to share it."

  "Plan?" Sigrid unholstered her twin 18 mm sidearms. "We kill them all."

  Sigrid's words were all the invitation the girls needed. It was Leta who acted first. She plucked a grenade, a small incendiary MIRV, from her belt. Twisting the top, Leta threw it in a tall arc over her shoulder. The grenade flew high up before coming down amongst the waiting soldiers guarding the entrance. At eight feet, the MIRV burst, launching its consignment of sixteen warheads. The tiny heat-seekers sprang forth, finding their targets and locking on. Sigrid heard the shrill, startled screams of the mercenaries as the payload of compressed fuel and sticky gel burst and ignited. It only lasted a moment, the screams; the shouts of the men below grew quickly silent.

  The opening salvo had been fired. The way forward was clear.

  Sigrid had the CTF agent by the arm, lifting and lowering her from the roof, dropping her down amongst the charred remains of the mercenaries.

  Sigrid dropped down beside her, pulling Miranda into the cover of one of the parked cargo haulers.

  "Those men…" Miranda said; she was looking over her shoulder, staring at the grisly sight.

  "I told you, Ms. Kane. I came here for a purpose. I won't let anyone stop me."

  The front door to Daisy's burst open. Sigrid spun around, weapons raised, but it was already over. She heard the sharp report of Leta's eSMG firing, saw the charging freelancers fall at her feet. No soldier exited the establishment alive, and none of the patrons were fool enough to stick their heads out to investigate.

  But a greater threat loomed in front of them. The two Thunderhawks roared in to cut them off, cutting off their escape. One hovered over the plaza, the other swept in behind them to disgorge its complement of troops onto the rooftop they had just vacated. They were quickly becoming surrounded.

  "Well, if you wanted a confrontation," Miranda said, "I think you've got it."

  More troops leapt from the first of the hovering gunships, descending on rappeller lines. They dispersed quickly, moving to flank the girls.

  "Incoming!" Trudy shouted.

  Two missile contrails snaked up from across the plaza, streaking toward them. Sigrid braced—but the weapons had not been aimed at them. Instead, the missiles sought and found the first of the hovering Thunderhawks. The warheads struck directly amidship, shattering and breaking its back. Sigrid heard the explosion, the angry groan of metal bending and collapsing. Soldiers still clinging to the rappeller lines leapt for their lives. Others were not so lucky, consumed in the fire or crushed beneath the bulk of the gunship as it came crashing down.

  Sigrid's PCM traced the trajectories back to their source: seven armored personnel carriers screamed down the road toward them, bouncing over the lane dividers in the roadway before turning sharply into the plaza. Turrets mounted on the tops of the APCs blasted the mercenaries on the ground, scattering the men and women before them.

  Sigrid knew these new arrivals weren't rescuers. They were rivals; rival mercenaries come to join in on the hunt for Sigrid and her friends. And they would not share the bounty. They wanted the prize of these girls for themselves.

  Two more missiles streaked toward the second Thunderhawk, but the hulking gunship was ready this time. It turned swiftly, its cannons seeking out this new threat. Flares, chaff and radar-jamming decoys burst from its side-pods. Computer-controlled countermeasures lured away the incoming missiles, even turning some back on their foes.

  "Great," Miranda said. "Is there anyone you didn't tell you'd be here?"

  As the agent turned to glare at Sigrid, she failed to see the grenade that came clattering down in front of her.

  Sigrid grabbed for her, pulling her down, back into the cover of the parked transport, shielding her with her own body. Sigrid made herself as flat as possible, felt the concussion as the fragmentation grenade exploded too close behind them. Still pinned beneath her, Sigrid felt the agent's heart pounding in her chest. Miranda clung instinctively to Sigrid's shoulders. Her eyes wide and wild, she stared at the charred crater not two meters distant.

  "You—you saved my life."

  Sigrid rolled off her, reaching down with a hand and hefting her up. "Don't make me regret it. I intend to hold you to your promise. We're getting out of here, and then you're going to take us to them."

  "Of course. Definitely. Anything—as long as it involves leaving here."

  Suko ran toward them, keeping low and in cover. "If you two are done mucking about, I think it's time we take our leave. These mercs seem content to fight amongst each other—perhaps we should leave them to it?"

  As if to punctuate her point, a flurry of missiles from the Thunderhawk lashed out, blasting two of the APCs before they could disgorge their squads of soldiers. The rival mercenaries were distracted, firing at each other, but that wouldn't last. In time, their attention would turn back to them.

  Sigrid counted more than two hundred soldiers on the scene. More were sure to follow. But the Longspurs were on the other side of the lot.

  "Wait here," Sigrid said.

  "Wait—what?" Suko said. "Where do you think you're going?"

  "I'm going to clear a path."

  "Seeg—"

  Sigrid didn't wait. She knew Suko would only try to stop her. Even before her cloak was fully engaged, she was off, sprinting toward the two platoons of mercenaries on the ground. There was confusion, orders, counterorders. Sigrid was happy to add to the chaos.

  The new cloaking program was far easier to hold than before. Sigrid marveled at the efficiency of the algorithms; once engaged, she barely had to give it a thought. This left her free to deal with the task at hand.

  Two braces of fragmentation grenades dropped from her belt. She rolled the four grenades ahead of her, their metal casings clattering along the pavement. Four explosions rang out. Men and machines flew into the air. The few survivors of the blasts ran, scattering and diving for cover.

  Sigrid didn't stop. Her sprint took her directly beneath the Thunderhawk overhead. It spun up and away, retreating from the blast area and trying for distance, searching for the source of this new thr
eat. Still cloaked, Sigrid's twin 18 mm pistols dropped from their clips and into her hands.

  The 18 mm slugs were not powerful enough to penetrate the thick armor of the gunship, but Sigrid had not aimed for the body, but for its head. Six armor-piercing rounds bore through the ablative shielding of the windscreen. The heavily plated glass shattered into thousands of crystalline fragments. The pilot raised his arms, shielding himself from the spray, but he could not shield himself from her ballistic rounds that followed. Two rounds found their mark, and the pilot slumped forward over the controls.

  The Thunderhawk's thrusters roared in protest. It pulled up wildly to perform a half-roll before crashing down. It nosed in hard, colliding with the cab of a parked long-hauler. For one frozen moment the Thunderhawk rested on its nose, its tail pointing straight into the air. Then, slowly, creaking, groaning, it toppled over to come smashing to the ground not more than a meter from Sigrid.

  Ruptured fuel cells ignited, sending a towering black mushroom cloud roiling skyward. The blast staggered Sigrid, and she fell back. She felt the familiar drain on her systems; even with the upgrades she could hold the shrouding effect no more.

  She was visible now, exposed and standing directly in the midst of the two opposing mercenary forces.

  She reached for two of the smoke canisters on her belt, thumbing the release, sprinting for cover. But it was too late. They saw her. There was no escaping it. Guns that only seconds ago were aimed at men swung toward her. Red warnings flashed in her HUD—threat indicators of multiple weapons trained on her. Too many. Sigrid heard the shots fired, felt herself flinch. She scanned for damage. But no bullets hit her. These rounds had not been meant for her.

  Suko, Trudy, and Leta fired back, picking off the mercenaries, adding to the carnage and chaos. The mercenaries returned fire, but they could not track their targets, couldn't keep up with the speed of the girls, mere blurs, lost in the clouds of billowing smoke as they sprinted from cover to cover, never staying in one place for more than a second.

  One of the APCs exploded, then another, blasted from the compact missile launcher mounted on Leta's shoulder. The remaining APCs pulled hurriedly back.

  Scores of mercenaries lay dead. The scorched remains of their heavy equipment lay in twisted, smoldering heaps. There was only a smattering of firing now, sporadic and poorly aimed. Suko and Trudy moved through the rubble, taking care of any mercenaries foolish enough to remain behind. The battle was over. But even as the survivors pulled back and scrambled to regroup, Sigrid knew that more would be on the way.

  "It's over," Sigrid called over her com. "Let's get the hell out of here."

  "Sigrid…wait, there's…"

  Sigrid's sensors picked up the movement through the smoke, a lone figure walking toward her. The smoke cleared, if just for a moment, and Sigrid saw her then. She was a woman, a girl, and she walked calmly toward her, stepping casually over the twisted remnants of the Thunderhawk as if unaware of the fire and carnage around her. The long, black coat she wore covered most of her. Smoked glasses shielded her eyes. She paused, not ten meters from Sigrid, feet apart, arms at her sides.

  Sigrid's sensors continued to scan, a constant stream of raw data fed directly to her primary processors, collating, analyzing. This girl was neither a mercenary nor a freelancer.

  Two more figures emerged through the haze—two more girls, exactly like the first. Sigrid gasped—the readings, her scans, they couldn't possibly be right.

  Slowly the girl reached back, drawing forth a long, two-handed sword. One of her companions unslung a long, silvery chain-whip, swinging it in an ever-widening arc. The weighted ball at its end hummed as it looped towards her.

  Sigrid shook her head as if to clear it, checked the readings again, verifying. The results were the same. These girls—all of them—they were enhanced.

  They…they're like us.

  It was impossible. It couldn't be. Yet she could sense their bionics, the elevated adrenals, flesh and program melding as one. But there was more, something alien, something off, and it terrified her. Sigrid raised her pistols, dialed the antipersonnel rounds, and took aim. But for the first time in her life, Sigrid's hand trembled as it held a weapon. She should have fired. She should have killed them. Yet Sigrid froze, paralyzed.

  They were her sisters.

  It was only her training, Hitomi's programming, that saved Sigrid then. Three shuriken screamed toward her. Alerted to the danger, Sigrid tumbled aside, firing her weapons before her feet returned to the ground. But, like her, the girls were already on the move, spreading out, too fast even for her PCM to track. There was something frighteningly familiar about the whole thing. Sigrid had witnessed this style of fighting before—every day of her life as she'd trained on Alcyone. She saw it all, as if from a mirror. Her attackers moved like her. Blazingly fast, they anticipated her every move, evading each of her shots.

  A more drastic approach seemed in order.

  Shrouding, Sigrid rushed toward the nearest of them. But even with her cloak engaged, the girl must have sensed her presence. Three more shuriken sailed her way. Sigrid leapt, spinning in mid-air. Somehow, she avoided the first two, but she could not avoid the third. The deadly throwing knife sliced through her uniform, carving a deep gash in her leg. The shock of pain was enough to break her concentration and break her cloak.

  The girl with the chain-whip was on her before she could recover, moving in for the kill. She spun the chain wildly, letting it wind about her arm and neck, before lashing out at Sigrid. Sigrid screamed as the barbed mesh coiled about her legs, cutting through fabric and flesh, hauling her down. Two blades arced toward her, eager to remove her head from her shoulders.

  Sigrid did the only thing she could; she reached out, grabbing hold of the chain. The polished steel sliced into her hand, digging deep. Sigrid ignored the pain, shunting it aside. She grabbed hard, rolling, pulling her assailant toward her and hauling herself up. The girl was strong, but Sigrid was stronger. In a flash, they were face to face, and Sigrid's gun was in her hand. As fast as this girl was, she could not dodge this shot, not from this range.

  Sigrid fired.

  The blast should have blown her head clean off, but the girl merely staggered backward. Her glasses shattered as the bullet penetrated her skull, revealing the very mechanical eye and the metal melded to flesh underneath. Sigrid gasped, not sure what it was she was looking at, not sure if this girl was human or machine, not even sure if this thing was alive or dead.

  Her answer came as the girl came at her, arms stretched out, fingers grasping for her.

  Sigrid fired, over and over. Four more shots ripped into her, penetrating and blowing out the back of her skull. Only then did the thing finally fall, slowly and deliberately. Sigrid leapt away, recoiling, half-fearing it would spring back to its feet. Mercifully, it remained down. But two of Sigrid's attackers remained. They came at her as one, their blades carving whirlwinds in the air about her and doing their very best to remove her limbs from her person. Sigrid kept moving, kept firing, but the girls merely shrugged off the flechettes, cartwheeling out of the path of more of the incoming rounds. Sigrid could only keep this up so long. Something had to give.

  The warning sounded like a klaxon in Sigrid's head. She slipped to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade of one, unable to dodge the thrust of the other. Steel nipped at her ear and sliced through the shoulder of her suit.

  Sigrid dived backwards—a move perfectly anticipated by her opponent. Her boot caught Sigrid squarely in her stomach with enough crushing force to knock the wind from her, slamming her into the wrecked remains of a cargo hauler. Sigrid felt her feet leave the ground as the girl's hand gripped her throat. Her fingers were like steel cables, twisting and constricting, threatening to crush Sigrid's neck and remove her head from her shoulders right then and there.

  For the first time in years, Sigrid panicked. Her pistols were still in her hand. She tried to fire, but the weapons were snatched from her grasp and tos
sed aside like so much rubbish to scatter across the pavement. Sigrid felt the blackness coming. Desperate, she grabbed for the girl's arm, kicking, clawing, no thought to technique, only survival.

  The girl reached forward, one finger extended. Sigrid heard the snick and saw the needlelike appendage spring forth from the tip of her finger. Without warning, she jammed it into the PCM access port behind Sigrid's ear. The probe entered her with a sharp, stabbing deliberateness. Pain came in shooting waves. Immediately, Sigrid was aware of the invasive programs worming their way into her network, tearing vital information from her databases. Only the crushing grip on her throat kept her from crying out.

  The worm-hack burrowed deep, going straight for her database. The probe queried, and powerless, Sigrid answered. Hitomi, New Alcyone, all of their secrets, she gave everything freely, unable to resist, unable to stop herself. Like a dredging machine, the hack scoured its way through Sigrid's systems, leaving no scrap of information behind.

  No…

  Her bowie knife was still sheathed to her chest. Sigrid grabbed for it. Heaving, stabbing upward, she sank the blade up to the hilt, twisting, pushing with all that remained of her strength.

  Get the fuck out of my head, you bitch!

  Sigrid stabbed again. Over and over. Still, the probe burrowed more deeply, insatiable, tearing her apart from the inside out.

  Trudy rushed forward. Screaming, she leapt on the girl's back, clawing at her eyes, pulling at the hand that crushed Sigrid's throat. Yet this girl, this thing, would not relent. Then Suko was there. Sigrid saw the flash of steel as Suko brought the katana down, cleaving the girl's arm off at the elbow.

  There was no blood. The limb was entirely artificial. A construct.

  The girl staggered back, the stump of her arm waving wildly. Suko swung again; it was a wide, sweeping swing, all brute force, opening the girl from shoulder to hip.

  Sigrid's connection to the girl and the probe was severed, but the hand that gripped her throat remained locked in place. Sigrid collapsed to her knees, clawing, prying desperately at the mechanical fingers that refused to release their hold. Her lungs burned for air that wouldn't come. The world around her turned crimson.