Edge Of The Future

by Andria Stone

  Thunder continued to boom. Several lightning bolts struck the ground outside. Mark felt an enormous charge of electricity surge through the air. The level of human shouting rose to a cacophony of fear and confusion.

  Axel raced past the cyborg. Thirty feet ahead, he spun, took aim, and began shooting.

  Frozen in place, Mark felt the projectiles zinging past him. Until, at last, a shot pierced its one remaining eye. The cyborg lurched, stumbled, then wavered before it fell forward—on top of him.

  ***

  Armored TMD soldiers rushed into the plant by the dozens. A loud raspy voice announced, “Halt by order of the Terran Military Defense, or you will be shot.”

  Almost everyone stopped in their tracks. Those that didn’t were stunned into submission. One armored soldier jogged straight toward him.

  Axel put his gun on the ground, to avoid being mistaken as the enemy. “Sir,” he called out, “my captain’s underneath this cyborg.” As the soldier neared, Axel recognized the rank of lieutenant colonel emblazoned on the armor.

  The officer thumbed up the mirrored faceplate, revealing feminine features. She bent down on one knee, lifted the hulking metal frame enough for Axel to drag an unconscious Mark free. The female colonel grunted as she finished heaving the inoperative cyborg over onto its back.

  Axel was impressed. “Thank you, ma’am. He’s Capt. Mark Warren. I’m Sgt. Axel Von Radach, Tactical Assault Group, ZULU-2 Base, North Dakota.

  “Colonel Maeve Sorayne, Sixth Tactical, San Antonio.” Kneeling beside Mark, she passed her arm over his body, scanning him with the sensors built into her armor. “I know who you are. I’m here to bring you home. Or did you think we were just passing by and decided to drop in for a visit?” She commed her medics for a retrieval. “He has several broken ribs and a flesh wound—in the groin.”

  “I did not shoot him in the groin, ma’am.”

  “I’ll take your word for it, Sergeant—but he might not.” She pointed a gauntleted finger at Axel. “Is any of that blood yours?”

  He looked down at his uniform. The word bloodbath came to mind. It covered him. Streaks of crimson still wet, saturated both his shirt and pants. “Oh, no, ma’am. It’s an occupational hazard—protecting the captain, here. We were attacked while escaping. Things got a little messy. If you’re interested—there’s a pile of bodies in the ground floor stairwell. A few may need medical attention.”

  She commed more medics for another retrieval. “You hiding bodies anywhere else?”

  “No, ma’am. Just the bunch in there and these two cyborgs. We weren’t here long enough to do any more damage.” He liked this lady colonel. He flashed her one of his wholesome smiles.

  Two medics in dove gray ballistic-proof bodysuits secured Mark to a hover gurney. Axel retrieved the knife Mark dropped, stuffed it in his boot before following them outside into a light drizzle. Two large black TMD shuttles hung suspended in the sky overhead. On the ground sat a silver spacecraft, half the size of a regulation shuttle. It bore the Medical Corps’ insignia of a red caduceus encircled by gold stars. Once they had boarded he turned to close the hatch. Sorayne stopped him. She had a corporal and a cyber corps specialist in tow.

  “Change of plans. We’ve been ordered to Headquarters. Personal debriefing with Dimitrios. You’d better harness up. This is going to be an express flight.”

  “Has our base been notified of the new destination?”

  “Yes, they have. When we get to HQ, they’ll be joining us on vid. You’ll be able to communicate with them then.”

  “I don’t suppose your people found Beth Coulter in there, did they?”

  “Not yet. They have orders to scour the plant for her. They’ll faceprint every single human. We’re also searching for any underground tunnels which might have been used as a means of escape. We’re accessing BioKlon’s system now and should have answers to whatever questions the general has by the time we get to HQ”

  One of the medics passed a handheld scanner over him, making sure Axel’s body wasn’t leaking any of the dark red fluids spattering his bedraggled, yellow tinged uniform.

  Axel looked over at Mark, now covered in cuts and bruises. “How’s the Captain doing?”

  “Unconscious, but good. He’s full of pain meds and nanites.”

  He turned to Sorayne. Her helmet sat on the floor between her boots. He watched as she combed finger through her short spiky platinum hair while rattling off instructions to her aides. Axel saw a handsome woman, strong, confident, and a sense of humor similar to his own. Then he noticed her unusual eyes. A unique woman, indeed.

  “Ma’am, I’ve been up for over forty-two hours. If I’m to meet the general, I should probably be coherent, or at lease awake. And what are the chances of me getting a clean uniform?”

  “Your report will carry more weight if you look like you’ve just come from the battle. We can help with the…” she paused, sending a questioning glance to the medic.

  “Uh…dehydration?” he volunteered.

  “Yes, see to it the Sergeant is hydrated.”

  Axel wasted no time in unbuttoning his shirt, stripping it off and offering his bicep for an injection of “hydration”.

  With the syringe in hand, the medic seemed perplexed.

  “You’re not getting anywhere near my ass with that syringe.”

  He smirked. “This might sting.”

  “If it does—so will you.” Axel didn’t feel so much as a pinprick. He leaned back, waiting for the drugs to sharpen his perceptions and powers of recall. The day’s events flashed through his mind as if he was watching a vid. Colors seemed brighter. He could smell his sweat. He stared at his hands, focused on the pulse throbbing in his veins.

  “Sergeant.”

  “Ma'am?”

  “Do you intend on meeting the general half naked? We touchdown in ten.”

  “Minutes?”

  “Seconds.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He dressed while remembering Dimitrios’s imposing image on the vid back at CAMRI. That was the only time he’d seen the general. Torance hadn’t been intimidated, neither had Monroe. Except…they’d been thousands of miles away—not up close and personal.

  As the hatch opened to the hospital’s rooftop, a short Eurasian doctor flanked by two orderlies waited in the cool evening breeze. The hem of his white lab coat fluttered against his major’s uniform. After transferring all medical data to the doctor’s tablet, the medics returned to their shuttle. Everyone else followed the doctor down to a private room on the third floor. Axel was surprised to find Dimitrios along with several aides waiting for them. Once formalities were out of the way, Sorayne spoke with him nonstop for several minutes while nurses cut off Mark’s clothing.

  The doctor examining Mark declared, “This man needs to go for a full body scan to rule out concussion, punctured lung, or any other internal damage not previously identified.”

  Axel stepped into the doctor’s space, towering over him. “I’ll be coming, too. Where he goes—I go.”

  “As you wish. Follow me.”

  The industrial-sized scanner showed Mark was healthy as an ox. Except for two fractured ribs. And a tiny flesh wound to the inner thigh, not the groin, as stated by Sorayne.

  Axel was extremely relieved to hear he hadn’t shot Mark in the balls, or somewhere worse. Regardless, he’d never hear the end of it anyway. Axel would have to come up with a doozy of a story about how it happened. Blame it on Mark squirming around. Or, a ricochet. Yeah, that would work.

  Mark regained consciousness back in the private room.

  Axel laid a hand on his shoulder to calm the alarm registering in his eyes. “Detoured to HQ,” he whispered. “Dimitrios is over there.”

  Mark swiveled his head, caught sight of the large man and rolled his eyes.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got this covered.” Axel hoped his false bravado sounded convincing. He kept a furtive eye on the general. Dimitrios looked about the same age as Torance, but with silver a
t his temples, shorter and a good twenty pounds heavier. Red piping trimmed his steel gray uniform; its mandarin collar disappeared into the general’s thick neck.

  Sorayne’s cyber specialist was showing a live vid stream of BioKlon’s plant to Dimitrios as the colonel continued her verbal report. Moments later, she and Dimitrios strolled over to Mark’s bed. Axel offered a crisp salute; Mark’s was more lackluster, his movements seemed uncoordinated.

  “Well, you men have certainly opened up a nest of vipers at BioKlon. The Terran Military Defense thanks you—of course. I don’t think you planned on getting kidnapped to do it. Still, it’s results that count.” Dimitrios pulled up a chair and made himself comfortable. “Warren, I want to hear all about these metal cyborgs.”

  He looked up at Axel with a gleam in his eyes. “And Sgt. Von Radach, I want to hear about the trail of bodies you left—and don’t leave out any of the gory details.”

  Axel wasn’t sure, but he thought Sorayne might have given him a wink.

  Chapter 21

  In the last six hours, Axel had reported in to his base, showered, slept, donned a clean uniform, and consumed a five-star breakfast. He felt excellent—but naked. He had no comm unit or tablet. Without these devices, he felt cut off from the rest of the world.

  At the door to Mark’s room, he stood watching a pair of nurses while they fluffed pillows and acted captivated by Mark’s blond, blue-eyed charms—and body art.

  Spotting Axel, Mark bolted upright. “You shot me in the…soft parts,” he said, amending his words in deference to the women.

  The nurses scurried out.

  “Not true. It had to be a ricochet.” Axel chuckled. ”Anyway, it was nowhere near anything important.”

  “Be careful I don’t return the favor one of these days.”

  They lapsed into a game of one-upmanship, ridiculing each other while tossing four letter words back and forth with the speed of a hockey puck. All to relieve the tension of another life-threatening experience.

  “I’m beginning to think you injure yourself on purpose, so nurses will fawn all over you.”

  “Jealous?”

  Axel ignored the remark. “Have you spoken with your family?”

  “No, but they’re here.” Mark brightened. “The doctor’s coming by any minute to discharge me. Then we can go see them.”

  “We?”

  “I’m not going alone—not with broken ribs and cuts and bruises. I wish Kamryn were here to work her magic.”

  “I do, too.”

  A solemn moment passed between them. Axel handed the ceramic knife back to him and pointed to his boot. “It served you well once—it may again.”

  Right on cue, Mark’s doctor entered. Behind him, an orderly carried a freshly pressed uniform.

  Axel whispered, “When’s the last time you had pain meds?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  The physician completed a cursory examination. Before he authorized his patient's release, Axel stepped forward.

  “Capt. Warren is going to visit his father, who’s also a patient in this hospital. I believe it would alarm his family if he were visibly in pain.”

  Muscles around the doctor’s eyes twitched. He walked out.

  “You enjoy throwing your weight around.”

  “So?”

  The doctor returned with an injector, which he pressed to Mark’s bicep. “Now, you are both released.”

  The orderly helped Mark into his uniform, intimidated by Axel’s watchful stare. He finished just as Sorayne arrived.

  Axel had found her handsome in armor yesterday, she looked twice as appealing out of it. Her platinum hair and unusual eyes contrasted sharply with the dress uniform she wore that morning; fitted gray tunic skimming over long, lean trousers, which seemed to accentuate her feminine physique.

  “I’m here to escort you to see your father. Then we’ll be delivering you back to your base.”

  Axel thought he saw a half grin tweaking at her lips. One of those ‘I know something you don’t know’ smug looks people have a hard time hiding.

  As they trailed behind her through the maze of corridors, Axel kept an eye on Mark, making sure he showed no signs of distress.

  Sorayne stopped abruptly, gesturing to an open door.

  Mark glanced at Axel, who nodded, then they both entered.

  Mr. Warren was alert, sitting up in bed, facial lacerations almost healed, with a new growth of blond hair covering his head—thanks to the nanites. The Warren women ran to Mark, welcoming him with hugs and kisses.

  Good thing Axel had anticipated the need for pain meds; otherwise, Mark would’ve been on his knees by now.

  The visit lasted for about twenty minutes with father and son not hesitant in the least at showing affection for each other. The Warren women bursting with excitement at having the family united again.

  Behind them, someone cleared their throat. Everyone turned to see Dimitrios and Sorayne in the doorway.

  The general began, “I want to apologize to the entire Warren family for the injuries you’ve suffered as a result of a classified operation I cannot explain, now or possibly ever. The Terran Military Defense will provide all medical care to Mr. David Warren for the remainder of your life, sir. Moreover, we will reimburse everyone monetarily for the impact this truly unfortunate event has caused.”

  Sorayne flipped opened the hinged lid of a small black box. Dimitrios pulled out a star dangling from a striped ribbon.

  “It is my honor to show our gratitude to Capt. Mark Warren by awarding you the Silver Star for extraordinary heroism while engaged against an enemy of the Terran Military Defense.” After pinning the medal on Mark, the general shook his hand.

  Sorayne repeated her actions, as did Dimitrios while he stepped in front of Axel, who took a deep breath and stared straight ahead.

  “It is my honor to show our gratitude to Sgt. Axel Von Radach by awarding you the Silver Star for extraordinary heroism while engaged against an enemy of the Terran Military Defense.” He pinned the medal on Axel and shook his hand. Axel was stunned and proud beyond belief, yet—humbled by the recognition.

  Sorayne first shook Mark’s hand, then Axel’s, congratulating them both.

  “I hate to cut short these formalities, however, we are sorely pressed for time. There’s a ship waiting for these two soldiers.”

  After quick but sad goodbyes, all four Terran military personnel left for the tarmac.

  At a corridor intersection, Dimitrios stopped. He pointed a finger to the left. “A ship to your base is in that direction.” He waved a hand toward the right. “This way will lead you to a ship bound for Germany to join forces with TMD Euro Command to take down BioKlon headquarters in Gerlingen. They could benefit from your combined knowledge of cyborgs and chemicals. It’s your choice.”

  Axel had a crushing urge to grab Mark by the shoulder and run for the ship to Germany…but he wouldn’t. He was the wingman. It was Mark’s call. It had been from the beginning.

  Mark took Dimitrios by the arm, leading him away for a private conversation. They both returned in somber agreement. “General, it would be a privilege to assist with dismantling BioKlon. My hope is that it also results in the apprehension or death of Beth Coulter."

  “God speed, to you both. If you’ll follow Col. Sorayne, she’s going in that direction.”

  Sorayne hurried toward the far exit with Axel and Mark close behind.

  Axel asked, “You want to arrest Coulter?”

  “Hell, no. I want to kill her.”

  “Did you tell that to Dimitrios?”

  “No,” Mark said. “If I don’t come back, I made him promise he’d be the one to tell my mother.”

  They burst through a door straight out onto the tarmac. A massive, deadly looking silver warship hovered, bristling with half a dozen weapons to the fore and a pair aft just behind the nacelles. Terran Space Command lettering and insignia flowed in blue down its side, ending with tail number SS-N78. Two black armor
-clad soldiers with rifles stood waiting by the open hatch.

  Sorayne jumped into the craft, turned, motioned them inside. When met with a surprised look on their faces, she said. “Did you think I wasn’t going? I’m in command. These are my troops. Though, I may have asked Dimitrios to twist your arms.”

  Astonished, Mark asked, “The medals, too?”

  “Oh no. Those were his idea. You earned them fair and square.”

  As they harnessed up for liftoff, Axel frowned at the sight of rows of shiny black-clad soldiers. “No armor—no combat.”

  “I can fix that.” She gestured to an aide. “Corporal, once we level off, show my two new consultants to the armor locker, please.”

  ***

  “Oh, I want one of these.” Marks eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.

  Axel hammered him in the chest with a finger. “No. This is not a toy. You have to earn it.”

  “Well, I got my ribs fractured, so I’ve earned a spin in this one.”

  “Step back. Watch and learn.”

  Mark engaged the part of his brain that memorized sequences, committing to memory the exact succession of movements Axel completed to enter, assemble and secure his set of armor.

  “Now you try.”

  Mark turned around and stepped backward into his shell. He locked the boots first, as he’d seen Axel do, then worked his way up the legs, torso, arms, finishing at the shoulders. The servos created an airtight seal, which automatically engaged a temperature regulating system. It was a good thing he wasn’t claustrophobic; still, this would take some getting used to.