by Steve Perry
Ellis didn’t respond. Jess shot a glance at Lara, saw the same worry on her face. The kid hadn’t spoken since alerting them to Nirasawa’s approach; he seemed to comprehend what they wanted, but that he wouldn’t talk, even to answer them, was unnerving.
What’s going on in there, Ellis?
Max looked dead. Each time it stopped walking, Jess had to wonder if it would start again, the giant body turning into an object that seemed incapable of life.
“I guess—” Lara started, and then Ellis was moving.
It happened fast, Max’s left arm swiveling back and up, directed into the dark and broken trail behind them. There was a puh of sound, of displaced air, grenade—
—and a sharp pop, and a dazzling light. The electric glow of white phosphorous hissed up from the burning filler some fifteen meters back, a tremendous billow of smoke pluming into the air from the M60—
—and before Jess could feel more than a second’s confusion, he saw the silhouettes in front of the rising sheet of white, and heard the screech of the one that was dancing through the flame. He saw two others, standing sharply outlined by the sizzling light. Hunters.
There was the ripping sound of a burner, barely audible over the dying screams of the Hunter on fire—
—and the blast hit Max in the back, and then Jess and Lara were both firing, the burner jumping in Jess’s hands, the crack of Lara’s semi blending into the harsh rattle from Max’s pulse rifle.
Brrrp-BOOM, the flash from Jess’s burner slammed into the chest of one of them, throwing it backwards into the rising incendiary flame. There was a clattering howl, terrible, and Jess brought the weapon around to the second—
—and its body was jumping, convulsing with the hammer of bullets that pounded it all the way down, Lara and Max both shooting, its muscular form crashing to the ground.
Max ceased firing. Jess and Lara both stopped, scanning for further movement—and all was quiet, only the hiss of the white-turning-orange flames as they ate slowly through the surrounding brush. If there were any more Hunters in the area, they’d decided not to join the fight; it was over, at least for the moment.
“Unh,” Max whispered, and Jess felt his heart pounding in delayed reaction, felt renewed fear for the kid as he and Lara both turned to inspect the damage.
The black, smoking splotch on Max’s back was too hot to touch; Lara ripped a strip of cloth from the bottom of her shirt and balled it up, wiping it across the wide and ragged mark. The hit didn’t seem to have penetrated the armor, but it had eaten through the protective acid-and heat-resist coating, he could be boiling alive in there—
“Ellis! Brian, are you hurt? Can you talk?” Lara asked; her voice right on the edge of panic.
Nothing—except a soft, unconscious groan from Briggs, still draped over Max’s flamethrower arm. Amazingly, he hadn’t been injured.
“Kid, please,” Jess said, aching inside as well as out. “Say you’re all right, say anything.”
“Any, thing,” Max breathed, and Lara laughed, the sharp sound close to a sob. Jess swallowed, hard—and faced front again, wanting this endless, painful night to be over with.
“Go, let’s go,” he said, taking a step forward, then two—and then Max raised one massive metal leg and put it back down, following, and Lara joined them.
Almost over, almost, Jess thought, and was still working to believe that a half klick later when they heard the trumpeting calls of at least a dozen approaching drones.
28
Three of the four beings were dead or disabled, but Nirasawa had suffered considerable damage in the effort. Seven major latchment points between musculature and skeleton had been severed through his back and left side, seriously incapacitating the feedback systems that kept him stable. Overall electrical stim received for his limb colloids was down 37 percent—and the casing for his hydrogen fuel cell had been pierced, which, if further damaged, would very likely relieve him of all processing capability. He would become inert; he would cease.
Studying the stance of the last viable opponent, Nirasawa could see that the being’s injuries were also significant. From the labored breathing to the unreliability and tissue damage of its right leg, Nirasawa thought that it would die soon without medical attention. Still, it continued to present itself as an opponent, and Nirasawa meant to alter its status. The woman had not finished her engagement with the being she fought, and Nirasawa wanted to aid her in destroying the last of Mr. Briggs’s killers.
The ailing creature stepped forward, jabbing its staff at Nirasawa. Nirasawa pushed the blade aside, moving in, bringing his right arm up and delivering a blow to the alien’s probable ribs. Several snapped.
The creature clattered loudly in its own language, a pale green blood washing from its mouth—and its damaged leg crumpled. The being fell, gasping, and Nirasawa bent down, reaching for its throat—
—and the creature, with some final burst of strength, thrust its staff deep into Nirasawa’s abdomen.
The fuel cell itself was punctured. Nirasawa felt the energy shut down, first to his legs. He collapsed on top of the gasping creature, driving his right elbow into its neck, hearing the wet collapse of its airway.
Nirasawa’s arms went next. Then the pump of lubricant faltered, the stability and latchment systems releasing a short and final jolt of stim through his immobile limbs. He could no longer move.
Nirasawa’s one functioning eye saw the stars in the Bunda sky, and then that, too, ceased to operate. There was a flush of nonsequential numbers in the dark—and then Nirasawa was no more.
* * *
Noguchi heard the dying call of the Blooded Hunter, a trilled greeting to the Black Warrior, a final shuffle of movement—and then nothing. Nirasawa had fallen, and the other Hunters were dead.
Just you and me now.
Shorty had managed one glancing blow to her side, and she had raked his right arm with the blades, but neither had gained the advantage. They continued their circling appraisal of one another, Noguchi knowing that Shorty wouldn’t be able to hold out for much longer. He was yautja, and young; she’d seen Blooded maintain a defense, but Shorty would eventually feel that he was cowardly for not attacking. She was betting on it.
And if you’re wrong? This could go on, and other Hunters will come, and your victory will mean nothing…
Noguchi felt the seconds tick by like minutes, her every muscle tensed, watchful for his next move. He hadn’t responded to further taunting; she’d called him small and weak, she’d stumbled through a few proverbs about having no honor. If she could just find something that would reignite his fury, push him into another reckless act…
Think! The names he’d called her in the past, the things he’d said in the hope of hurting her. Woman, human, alien—nothing there, nothing that had come across as more than a mild slight.
Except—he thought they were horrible slurs. The very worst he could come up with…
She had it. Noguchi knew what to say. She ran through the words in her head, preparing herself for his assault as she decided on her counterstrike.
“Chi’-dte ooman-di,” Noguchi said. “Lou’-dte Dahdtoudi kalei!”
Shorty flew at her as the last word left her mouth, his face shocked and sick with rage, his blades swinging wildly.
Noguchi was already in motion, leaping away from the pitiful strike, jumping—
—and landing a solid kick to the side of his right knee, where she’d kicked him in their match on the Shell, where he should still be hurting. Shorty howled, falling to the ground, instantly pushing himself off and coming for her—
—and she slashed, the diamond-sharp wrist blades melting through his forearm. Blood spouted up as his right hand folded, hanging from cut bone and sliced flesh by the wet sinewy tendons, the only thing still connecting his claws to his arm.
Shorty screamed again, in agony, grabbing at the pounding flow from his wrist and stumbling at her. Unable to comprehend that he’d lost.
; “You’re not Hunter!” Noguchi shouted as she sidestepped his clumsy attempt, not caring if he understood. “I am, and I’m better at it than any of you arrogant, bullying children!”
Shorty crashed into the dirt, still hugging his useless arm, trilling in pain and denial. Noguchi stood over him, feeling the beat of her human heart, realizing how much time she’d wasted caring about what the Hunters believed—and understanding that she was free from them, that her human spirit had conquered.
With the help of a few carefully chosen words…
She’d told Shorty that he loved human women, and that he obviously wanted to father her children. How wonderful, that it was his own conceit and intolerance that had cost him the battle. How typical.
How very yautja.
Noguchi stared down at the suffering Hunter for a moment longer, then knelt by him, staring into his spiteful, hurting face.
“Human,” he spat, and Noguchi nodded, not at all surprised that he could speak the word clearly.
“That’s right,” she said, and plunged her wrist-blades into his throat. She watched his eyes, watched the spark of life leaving him, feeling only triumph.
A moment later, he was dead. Noguchi stood up, flicking the hot blood from her blades and retracting them, looking around at the body-littered clearing. Nirasawa was gone, ruined, but he’d managed to take out four Hunters first. Three had been unBlooded, but the fourth had surely been a challenge, the etched star shape on his brow marking him warrior.
Noguchi reached up and touched her own mark, thinking of Broken Tusk, wondering if he would have approved the things she’d done. She was still proud to wear his symbol, and thought that he would have understood—but it occurred to her that it didn’t particularly matter whether or not he would have supported her actions. He wasn’t there—and as trite as it seemed, she knew that it was her opinion and hers only that mattered. It had always been that way, but she’d forgotten for a while.
Noguchi turned away, looking for her burner. She had a ship to catch.
* * *
Lara heard the bugs coming through the jungle and her heart sank. So close, they had to be less than half a kilometer from the Hunter transport, and she simply didn’t know how much longer she could go on. Max was faltering, his steps slowing, and Jess had tripped and fallen twice since their encounter with the Hunters. They’d been through so much, the space station, Briggs, facing death again and again through all of it—
—and Jess is about to collapse, and Ellis could very well die any moment, and I’m so, so tired—
Lara gritted her teeth, forcing the thoughts away. They were close, and she’d faced bugs before. It was still very dark—although it had to be early morning by now—but drones made more than enough noise to target. She was down to her last few rounds, but she was a good shot, she knew she could make them count.
Ellis may not be able to help, but Jess will hang on… Whether or not he could aim very well anymore wasn’t something she wanted to consider, but she stepped closer to him, both of them standing close to Max. If he couldn’t do it, she’d take the burner when she ran out of bullets.
They were getting closer, at least ten, fifteen of them, the sounds of their approach violent and wild, trees snapping, their chittering shrieks growing louder.
“Ten o’clock,” Jess said, and Lara nodded—
—and then Ellis spoke, his shaky voice quiet and small.
“Stay back we kill,” he said, and Max’s arms both locked forward, Briggs’s body sliding to the ground in a heap.
Before Lara could consider the implications of “we,” the first drone tore into the open, ten meters away. And Max took one step forward and became death, the world catching fire at his touch.
* * *
Maxellis saw the first break cover and opened up, no longer certain of the best kill method, no longer able to mark an exact distance. They fired everything, deciding in waves of red-and-black awareness that a solid curtain of defense would probably work.
Flame erupted from Maxellis’s right hand, a stream of napthal that stretched to meet the XT, its bounding form halting, screaming, turning in circles as its fluids heated and expanded. Its exoskeleton burst, and Maxellis were already working the next moving forms, finding them, sending HEAP and incendiary grenades into the midst of the tumbling bodies.
—we kill and thirteen more—
Part of Maxellis had been injured by heat, when there had still been a separation. The fusion had been necessary for the good of the whole, although elements of both halves had been lost. There was no pain, but very little clarity, either, the entity’s self-awareness muddled, incomplete.
Maxellis did not think of this as they sent two full cartridges of rounds into the jungle, two hundred armor-piercers that tore through legs and arms, mists of drone blood flying, exo shrapnel from the exploding bodies slamming into other bodies. The napthal continued to stream across the congregation, burning to death those that didn’t fall right away.
In less than two minutes, it was over. The only movement in the burning was the burning itself, smoke and flame rising and twisting up, finding new things to burn.
The Lara and Jess were speaking, but Maxellis’s capacity for speech was extremely limited, their understanding of language reduced to fundamentals.
We go now assigned parcel—
The body. Maxellis turned and picked it up, doing as little damage as they could to the fragile flesh. Then they turned and moved ahead, in the direction that they had been going since before the meld.
In a matter of moments, they had reached the destination.
29
Noguchi ran through the dark, aware that time was short. She’d heard the explosions only minutes after leaving her battlefield, and knew that the Hunters would head for the sight and sound of action. It was surely that suit, Max, and she hoped that the firefight meant Lara and Jess were still alive, that Ellis was protecting them.
The trees whipped past, Noguchi concentrating on keeping balanced, on skirting obstacles and keeping her speed up. She didn’t want to be left behind; her fight on Bunda was over, and she was more than ready to be away from the Hunt.
And the Hunters, who wouldn’t mind at all if I missed my flight.
Noguchi picked up speed, moving faster.
* * *
The Hunter transport was twice as big as the Nemesis shuttle, and looked something like a water pitcher lying on its side, a rounded body tapering at the neck. Jess wouldn’t particularly care if it looked like a giant dog turd; he’d never been so happy to see anything.
The ship had set down in an angled clearing, near the top of a gently sloping hill, the jungle they stepped out of at the bottom. The sky seemed lighter, perhaps because of the open space, or maybe because the endless night was actually ending; they moved into the pale light away from the trees, Jess grateful to get out of the secretive dark.
At least we’ll see the next deadly thing coming… He considered crossing his fingers but thought it might be his undoing, the final exertion that would knock him out cold. He wouldn’t be good for much longer.
Together, he and Lara struggled to keep up with the Max as it marched easily to the ship, holding Briggs with both arms. Throughout all of it, Briggs still hadn’t come out of his postimplant coma. Jess knew that they’d have to leave the exec behind; he’d thought that they could use him if they ran into any Company people, but—
“I’ll see about the controls,” Lara gasped, breaking into his wandering thoughts as they neared the vehicle. “You get Ellis out of that thing.”
Jess nodded, suddenly feeling more vulnerable than he had in the wooded jungle. He was afraid of what he would find when he opened the suit. Ellis had referred to himself and the Max as “we” before blowing up the band of drones that had come for them, and he’d been an emotional mess already, ever since 949. Jess had been with him for the first interface, and remembered how he’d gradually declined, losing his speech, becoming erratic—lo
sing himself…
…we’ll take care of you, kid. Don’t die on us—and don’t stop being Ellis.
That was the worst of his fears, he knew, even worse than that Ellis might die from the second interface. The thought that Ellis might not be there anymore, that the spark of his character might be gone—
—no. He’ll be fine, everything will be fine. Jess held on to the thought, determined to believe it.
They reached the ship, and it looked even more alien up close. It was made from some light gray material, matte and smooth, not a straight line in sight. Even the hatch was rounded, a giant stretched oval set into the side of the swollen body. Lara reached up and touched a panel next to the door, Jess holding his breath—and exhaling as the hatch slid to one side with a soft hum.
Inside, it looked more like a transport shuttle, with obvious chairs and a rounded console at the front. It was spacious and empty, and smelled faintly of something sour.
Lara moved inside, and Jess turned to Max, standing a few meters away. Even Hunter-sized, the door was too small to admit the bulky suit; he’d have to pull Ellis out and carry him into the ship.
“Okay, Ellis. Breathe easy, I’m going to—”
Max raised his rifle arm, pointing it down the hill, cutting Jess short, making him feel sick. Something was coming. It was as if every pain in Jess’s body surfaced at once, the full extent of his injury and exhaustion finally letting itself be known.
No more. God, no more.
Jess turned, aching—
—and saw Machiko Noguchi emerge from the tangle of trees.
* * *
Maxellis was safe and warm in the dark, feeling nothing, aware that the small woman was not a threat. They kept the left arm raised anyway, in case she was not alone.
She moved quickly up the grade and spoke to the Jess, the man, both of them making soft and light sounds, good sounds. She stood and waited for something, her posture expectant.
The man moved behind Maxellis and touched the damaged area of their body. They realized too late what he was doing and tried to tell him no, no, that it was not good—