Long Fall

by Chris J. Randolph

  The light shot downward, slowed gently and stepped down onto the land. Its blinding glow faded, revealing some kind of creature made of petrified flesh and shining bone, with wide wings composed of a hundred silver ribbons.

  Its head was a demented skull, too wide and low, with jagged edges, sharpened teeth, and eyes like distant coal fires. It moved like a modern dancer, so talented the ground seemed barely able to constrain it.

  The Yuon Kwon serpent fired. In the sudden silence, the sound of its cannon was like the world ending.

  The Nefrem ogre raised a hand, caught the burning blue bolt, and crushed it in its fingers. The projectile crumbled away on the wind like scraps of fallen leaves.

  The enraged Yuon Kwon thrust forward and howled, but made it only a meter before a living bullet bit a hole through its chest, shredding a wide tunnel on the way through. The Oikeyan newtype dropped to the ground, and there rumbled but did not scream.

  The ogre's wings retracted. It knelt down in perfect supplication, and muscles all over it relaxed at once, then its ribcage cracked in half and folded intricately outward.

  A thick fog spilled out that seemed to flicker and slither in the firelight. As it consumed the ground, a naked human stepped out of the creature's chest cavity and stood at confident ease.

  Its body was impossibly lean and well toned, without a single imperfection marring its skin. Except for the silvery lavender hair on top of its head, the rest of its body was completely bare, and where there should have been something awkward there was only a smooth patch.

  Its eyes were full of mirth and curiosity. It looked over each of them, Amira, Jack, then Smokey, and it smiled.

  It spoke in the ancient language of the Nefrem, with a discordant melody that turned to hatred in Jack's ears. "Who among you may speak for your rogue bloodline?"

  "None of us," Jack replied.

  "How strange... then you will deliver my message to your feuding factions. Tell them I seek asylum on your quaint planet. I require aid in my struggle against Nemesis, and will gladly destroy those who refuse me shelter. But I am above all fair... In return, I will help pacify the planet's invasive pestilence. Bring me your answer within one planetary rotation."

  Jack felt strength returning to his arm, and a fresh wellspring of energy flowing into him. Like a child backed into a corner, the meek and angry voice inside begged him to kill.

  Amira moved almost imperceptibly at his side, and he barred her with an arm. "It'll murder us all, Sal."

  She stopped cold.

  "Who are you?" Jack asked of the Nefrem. He bristled against his own better judgment, stretching his shoulders apart and flexing his fingers in preparation.

  The Nefrem smiled its eerily beautiful smile, the sort that a self-obsessed celebrity might bestow on a fawning teenage fan. "You intrigue me, cousin," it said. "Your wildling code is degenerate, and you are ill fitted to the clothing of your fathers... but there may be some glimmer of nobility within you."

  Jack held his ground, trying his best not to betray any weakness to the beautiful monster. He tightened his jaw behind his mask and said, "Who may I tell them is calling?"

  The Nefrem sighed. It said wistfully, "Oh, but you wish to play so badly, don't you? Allow yourself the impertinence, bastard child of the heretics. Come... dance with me."

  Jack refused to move a millimeter, even as the voice inside him mewled with pent up bloodlust. "Kill!' it hissed manically.

  The Nefrem studied him and said, "Very well, wildling. Tell them the scion of Nemesis has arrived, he who is born but once a millennium. Tell them the Nefrem prince stands here in supplication, who alone may sing the Splinter Legion into battle."

  It was an invitation made with a closed fist. Jack wasn't quite sure what to make of the mixed message, but he knew it wasn't good. Nothing was ever good anymore.

  His thoughts returned to the Eireki Seed buried a hundred meters away. If he could find some way to bring it back, maybe Amira could turn it against the Nefrem. The entire invasion force could be cut down with one stroke of the scythe.

  "Infect," the voice inside him cooed. "Weaken and slay."

  But it wasn't possible, and Jack knew he wouldn't even if he could. This prince stood against his mother for some reason. This was a different Nefrem, and that required more investigation. No matter how deep his disgust for the entire race, he had to give this one the benefit of the doubt.

  Jack offered a curt bow, while Smokey kneeled and crossed himself, which Jack found curious. Amira closed her stance, and that didn't surprise him at all.

  He pushed her shoulder lightly, and it seemed to break her trance. He could see an outline of her face only dimly through the helmet, but it was enough to make out a bemused expression. She didn't know what to make of this whole ordeal, and her first impulse was usually to fight until an answer became clear.

  Even as the thought occurred, it came too late for him to stop what happened next. Amira Saladin brought her wrists together, aimed and fired her strange weapon. A beam of ghostly glass shot out that melted light around it, and the Nefrem prince didn't react fast enough.

  Amira's weapon stabbed a hole the size of a softball through the prince's ribs, leaving a vortex of blood and tissue in its path. The wound did nothing to stall the prince's advance though, as his dodge melted into a quick series of steps and a single terrible punch.

  Amira flew backward through the air, and before she could come back under control, the Nefrem prince was above her and slammed her back down to the ground.

  Her gold and bronze body bounced limply.

  "Kill," the merciless voice in Jack's head said, and this time he very nearly obeyed. But he didn't have to be a weapon.

  With muscles, sinews, and tendons that had designed themselves, powered by energy leeched from the blood of the universe, he instead pressed out across the ground and placed himself between Amira and the next impact. A stone elbow hit him like a falling boulder, crushing anatomy that had repaired itself only seconds before.

  He hit the ground at speed, scrabbling at it with his hands and feet, and clawed himself to a stop. He raised one hand and said, "Wait! She didn't understand... There will be no alliance without her."

  The Nefrem prince turned, and the mirth was entirely gone from his face. Jack could see only the cold stare of murder. The wound in his side had already knitted itself closed, leaving a hollow knot like a tree's.

  Amira lay motionless beneath him, not so much as stirring. Her life was completely in his hands.

  The Nefrem spat blood on her. "I am not accustomed to permitting such disrespect, mutt."

  Jack stood uneasily with several parts of his body aching, broken, failing. "I apologize," he pleaded. "But there will be many misunderstandings in the days to come. If you desire our help, you must be prepared to adapt."

  The prince's lip curled. Jack wasn't sure if he'd misspoken, or if his entire ploy had been in error. It all hinged on how badly the Nefrem needed human help.

  "So be it," the prince said, and nothing more. Instead, he turned and walked back to his armor, stepped inside, and returned to his waiting ship.

  Smokey stood, a scrap heap junker that had been a brand new model off the showroom floor only minutes before. There seemed to be a lot of that going around.

  "Hey alien," Smokey said with his computer generated voice. "Truce?"

  Jack didn't realize it was addressing him at first. When it dawned on him, he nodded.

  "What did you and him talk about?"

  Jack considered lying but he had no right. Omission was a more forgivable offense. "He's a Nefrem prince, and he's gone to war with his mother. He wants allies... but under threat of death. We have until tomorrow to answer."

  Smokey said, "Angels and God damned demons."

  Jack looked up at the vast shape coloring the night with neon light, and he wondered where the angels were. It seemed the gates of Hell kept swinging wider open, unleashing more demons onto the battle-scarred Earth, and soon
there wouldn't be any men left to stand against them.

  Smokey walked clumsily to the Yuon Kwon still lying on the ground, reached into its wound and tore out its innards. Jack watched the last spark of life go out of the Oikeyan newtype, and he felt sick.

  Then Smokey turned and began to walk away.

  "We need to stand together," Jack called after it.

  Smokey kept walking.

  "...or we'll fall apart," he mumbled to himself.

  He looked to the earthen mound one last time and thought of the dangerous Eireki technology hidden within. At the same time, he felt an itch along his spine and understood that the sky was full of eyes and cannons. He'd been given enough leash to leave, but anything else would bring about his immediate and catastrophic destruction.

  Instead, he sullenly walked to where Amira was laid out, hoisted her unconscious body over his shoulder, and headed back into the relative sanity of the jungle.

  Chapter 43

  Confirmation Bias

  It wasn't a helicopter that came for Daniel Grey this time, but an improbably large jet. The dark green vulture moaned through the air like a sickly animal, propelled by four large engines that hung from the wings like overripe fruit.

  Daniel sat in a sling specially designed to hold him during transit. In a strange way, it felt like his own personal throne where he could rest and reflect on his most recent fuck-ups; total failures like this mission provided more than enough to mull over during the long trip. Of course, some of it hadn't been in his control, but much of it was. The parts that mattered certainly were, and he'd fucked them up beyond all recognition.

  His original objective was to assess and destroy the Ultra Unit belonging to their unholy neighbors to the south, but then that blue son-of-a-bitch showed up. Donovan's Ultra, apparently. The sole virtue of Donovan's uselessness to this point had been his commitment to keeping his dick out of places it didn't belong... but good things never did last.

  As for the armor from the Arkangel Compact... Daniel always expected they'd realize the error of their ways, overthrow the alien filth, and return to the flock. But they'd clearly cast their lot with the sinners now, and Daniel finally knew they were well and truly lost.

  A young tech with a grease caked face walked up to him. She said, "Evening, Orion. Anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

  A few of the nerve endings inside his shoulder were alight with fire, but he waved her off and she marched away. He wanted to feel the sting of his defeat, lest he forget. Second Revelation had taught him to appreciate the value of remembrance, especially of those things he'd prefer never to think of again.

  He was back at Cheyenne Mountain after an hour. The night was dark and pummeled by blustery rainfall, and Daniel's mostly broken sensors picked up little outside the jet. If there were landing lights, he couldn't see them.

  The transport set down in a hurry, skids lurching in the gravel, and the ramp came down immediately. Daniel pushed himself up with his remaining arm then walked out into the storm, swaying as he went like an angry forest troll.

  He didn't feel the rain. He could hear it dashing against his armor and running down in smooth sheets, but it was just sensor data. He never imagined he'd miss one stupid feeling so much.

  He didn't take many steps out onto the landing pad before a small yellow flatbed arrived. It stopped in front of him and the driver patiently waited for him.

  He climbed onto the back and it took off at a good clip into the base, while Daniel sat there sullenly wondering how he'd picked up the nasty habit of leaving limbs on the battlefield. The Battle of Arkangel took a leg and a half from him; he callously dropped an arm while facing Samson; and now he'd lost a newer, vastly more expensive arm while confronting demons and fucking race traitors.

  The truck delivered him to the secured chamber where Project Orion had taken shape. It was a laboratory and connected garage which had been his home for the past weeks, and he supposed he liked it about as much as any barracks he'd spent time in.

  This return was a little unusual, though. All of the top brass were in attendance, including Colonel Galili and Major Reyes, as well as others Daniel didn't know by name.

  He hopped off the truck and it sped away while the heavy bay doors closed. He stepped up to a milling group of bureaucrats and flag officers, and rendered the best salute he could manage with his off arm.

  Galili returned the salute and said, "At ease, Grey. Doctor Zakuani, get the mission data downloaded."

  The doctor rushed to comply. He attached a cable to Daniel's back, which automatically transferred a few terabytes worth of recordings, then the doctor jogged to his workstation and began to sort through it all.

  Major Reyes looked at Daniel with eyes like flecks of quartz. He said, "Tell us what we need to know, Lieutenant."

  The man cut right to the chase. Daniel respected that. "I arrived at the objective site at approximately 1945 hours UTC, and engaged an unknown enemy equipped with alien tech. I quickly confirmed his status as an Ultra Unit, and evidence suggests he belongs to Donovan's fleet.

  "In short order, the battle was joined by two more Ultra Units, one belonging to the Western Oikeya, and the other to the Arkangel Compact. The fight continued until 1956 hours, when the unknown vessel arrived."

  Memories of that moment flashed in Daniel's mind: the twinkling star that descended from Heaven on silver wings, and the strangely pure being that stepped out of it. His decorum crumbled. "Then an angel appeared to us, sirs."

  "Come again?" Galili said.

  "An angel flew down from the ship. I mean, I'd swear to God it was human, but like one right out of His workshop. It spoke with the most beautiful voice... this creature, sir, it was like nothing I've ever seen before. It was... perfect. And it struck the Oikeyan Ultra down, then fucking anointed us its emissaries."

  A murmur shot through the officers, and when it passed, Daniel thought he could see confusion and hope in their eyes. That seemed to reflect his feelings all too well.

  "What was its message?"

  "Well..." Daniel said, thinking back over the scene. "It spoke some language I've never heard, but Donovan's Ultra was able to communicate with it. What he told me might be bullshit..."

  "Mr. Grey," Major Reyes said flatly.

  "He said it was the Nefrem prince. It's gone to war against its kind, and it wants us to join it... apparently, it's not prepared to take no for an answer, though. I'm to reply by tomorrow."

  "How do you think it would react," Reyes asked, "if we told it to go fuck itself?"

  Daniel held his tongue for a moment. "From what I've seen, Major... it would kill us all."

  The officers talked among themselves while Daniel beat away on a problem: why had Donovan hidden this about his boogie men? He ranted on about the monsters from the stars, but he never once mentioned they were human... let alone such perfect humans.

  In the past, Daniel had simply thought Donovan an incompetent and misguided coward. Now, he realized the truth was even darker... Donovan was a damned liar.

  "We need to ally ourselves with the prince," Daniel said.

  Eyes turned on him, angry but inquisitive.

  "It's Second Revelation," he said, and Major Reyes rolled his eyes.

  Daniel began to recite scripture: "The Adversary will beset the Earth with his demon armies, to rake the cowardly with their horrible claws, and seduce the avaricious with their poisoned fruit. Only the pure and brave will have strength to oppose them. We the faithful must choose ourselves, and for our righteousness and piety, the Lord will send his angels to walk among us and fight by our side. Thus shall we stand victorious and walk the road to life everlasting in the savior's warm embrace."

  Stunned silence greeted him.

  Doctor Zakuani finished the passage. "For the universe is our eternal dominion... and the Lord's only son, our immortal king."

  Major Reyes looked to be chewing on a mouthful of nuts and bolts. He looked to Galili and then back to Daniel.
"Do you know who wrote those words, Lieutenant?"

  "I don't rightful give a shit," Daniel replied.

  "Stupid gambit," Reyes said. He stroked his beard tensely and said to the colonel, "Your dog is foaming at the mouth, Galili."

  "You will address me," Daniel growled through a slashed speaker.

  Reyes barked, "I'll address whoever I damn well please, soldier!"

  Daniel's voice came slow and powerful. "How can you hope to win without the Lord's love in your heart?" he asked. "If it isn't faith, what drives you, Major?"

  "I have faith, you idiot. But I've got enough wits in my fucking head not to fall for every crackpot full of bullshit to come spewing in my direction. This insanity needs to stop."

  Daniel Grey realized that deep down inside, he agreed. The insanity was weakening the Union and leaving them ripe for attack; it needed to stop immediately.

  He swept across the room so quickly that no human could have reacted in time. He gripped the major's head in his hand, lifted him off the ground, and crushed the feeble brain inside his skull.

  Screams erupted from the other officers, and Daniel saw it only as craven faithlessness. If they had felt God's touch as he had, they would understand that all strength arose from His will alone... and they'd know that once embraced, no force could defeat them.

  These empty suits weren't brave enough to spit in the face of demons, nor proud enough to march in the company of angels. The duty fell to him to cull them from the crusade.

  The slender doctor stood unmoved by Daniel's brutality.

  When Daniel was finished, he stopped and allowed the fresh blood to wash off his non-stick armor. It pooled under his mechanical feet, and washed down the single, central drain.

  Chapter 44

  To Live and Wander

  On their return trip aboard the limping Pegasus, Jack and Amira looked out over the strange scene with sadness and regret. The Eireki starship Legacy lay across thirteen kilometers of snow in a canyon she'd excavated with her emergency landing. Her coloration was weak, and her skin seemed to sag limply.