Messenger

by James Walker

  “Director Nimh?” Pierson registered surprise. “I'll go as well.”

  Cena, Pierson, and the medic, P.F.C. Simmons, were joined by Tinubu. Together, the four of them made their way over to Ridley. He was lying where Cena had left him, his breathing pained and ragged. Sim­mons knelt next to him and used a knife to cut away his vest. His ex­pression darkened at the sight of Ridley's wounds.

  “This doesn't look good,” he said.

  “Director.” Pierson knelt next to Ridley opposite Simmons. “Can you tell us where Falsrain is?”

  “Falsrain?” Ridley coughed. “I don't know who that is.”

  Pierson scowled. “Is this the result of his mind control, too?”

  “Major, please,” Simmons snapped. “I'm trying to treat him.”

  Ridley gave a hacking cough, and blood dribbled from his lips. “I wonder if Liumei got away safely,” he rasped. “Protecting her... the only worthy thing I ever did with my life. The Union, just a system for concentrating power in the hands of a corrupt oligarchy. The rebels, nothing but murdering terrorists. Nothing to fight for. No cause worthy of loyalty. But Liumei... at least...”

  “He's raving,” Simmons said. “We're losing him.”

  “Liumei.” With surprising strength, Ridley lashed out with one hand and grabbed Pierson's arm. “She's a victim too. Forced to play her role from birth. Another cog in the Union's machine. Just a bigger cog... than most. She tried to be lenient with the colonists. Please, don't hurt her.”

  Finally, the light faded from his eyes. His grip slackened and his hand fell away from Pierson's armor. Simmons shook his head.

  “Three large-caliber rounds,” he said, standing up. “Normally his vest would have provided more protection, but these were fired from an extremely powerful firearm. One ripped his left lung to shreds and another lodged right next to his heart. There was nothing I could do for him.”

  “The Union would make cogs of us all.” Pierson draped the remains of Ridley's vest over his face and stood up. “Yet right now, their threat pales next to Falsrain. It's time we finished this. Captain Tinubu, I hate to ask this of you, but would you make an exception just this once and let me take command of the infantry?”

  “It goes against orders, but...” Tinubu nodded. “I would be honored to let you lead us once more, Major.”

  “Good.” Pierson led the others back to the main force. “Let's hurry to the back of the compound. I saw a transport heading in that direction.”

  “Are you sure it's safe to move so far away from Astral?” Cena asked.

  “It's a chance we'll have to take,” Pierson replied. “We have to take that transport out before it can evacuate Falsrain.”

  *

  Celeste's Arrow-3 landed next to Vic. He opened a transmission and said, “Looks like we're the only ones left. Any word from Colonel Artega or Captain Tinubu?”

  “No,” Celeste replied. “I don't even know if they're alive or dead.”

  “I'll try to raise them on the comm,” Vic said. “I don't know how to proceed now that we're all that's left of the exosuit squadron.”

  He started to open a channel when an explosion tore up the ground at his feet. He rocketed to the side to avoid a stream of bullets, which ripped into the wall behind him, and traced them to their origin at the compound's wrecked gate. A pair of Ramparts were firing around the wall while several battle drones poured through the breach. Vic responded by firing the last of his missiles at them, engulfing the entrance in explosions, while a stream of emerald pellets erupted from Celeste's plasma rifle.

  “Enemy reinforcements,” Celeste said.

  “Damn,” Vic snarled. “We took too long.”

  “There's no time to reestablish the chain of command,” Celeste said. “You press on ahead. Find Falsrain and eliminate him. I'll hold the enemy off here.”

  “By yourself?” Vic exclaimed.

  “Don't underestimate Chi strain,” Celeste said. “I swear that, as long as my fuel holds out, the enemy won't set one foot past the gate.”

  “What about your ammo?” Vic asked.

  “Almost out,” Celeste said. “But there are plenty of spare guns lying around, and I have my sword. Now get moving.”

  Before Vic could register any further objection, Celeste blasted off. She disappeared through the gate, then the staccato of heavy automatic fire and the shrill report of her plasma rifle came from the other side of the wall.

  “Vic,” Astral said, “let's go. We mustn't waste this chance.”

  “Yeah.” Vic tore his gaze away from the front gate and headed for the inner courtyard. “You're right.”

  *

  Pierson led the infantry through a series of ornate gardens yet untouched by the battle. They soon reached a cluster of outer buildings near the back of the compound where a transport VTOL was just begin­ning its descent. A security detail stood guard around the landing zone, deformed by the same ghoulish visages as the soldiers they had en­countered in the streets.

  The decaying guards opened fire the moment they spotted their foes. The rebels took cover behind the nearest buildings and fired back. Despite a furious exchange of shots, ample cover prevented either side from scoring any hits.

  “We're at a stalemate,” Pierson said. “We won't be able to reach the transport like this.”

  “Toss me that anti-armor rifle,” Cena called to a nearby soldier. “I'll take care of this.”

  “All yours, Sergeant.” The soldier tossed the rifle to her.

  Cena staggered from the immense rifle's weight as she caught it. “Give me some cover,” she shouted as she lay prone and leaned around the corner of the building, taking aim at the transport.

  In unison, the rebels unleashed a hail of bullets on the enemy positions, forcing them to hide. The deafening roar of the anti-armor rifle echoed across the grounds and a piece of plating spiraled off one of the transport's cylindrical engines, which began to smoke and sputter.

  “Nice shot, Sergeant,” Tinubu shouted.

  “Check this one out,” Cena replied.

  The rifle gave another thunderous report and the transport's right landing strut snapped like a twig. The transport listed and its right side dug into the ground with a screech of tearing metal.

  “Beautiful,” Tinubu crowed. “That transport isn't going anywhere now.”

  The rebels pulled back behind cover as the guards emerged from hiding to fire a return volley. Pierson swept his gaze across the battlefield and spotted a familiar figure in a senior officer's cloak emerging from a nearby gate. At the sight of him, Pierson sprinted to the next building and leaned out to take aim at the new arrival.

  “It's Falsrain,” he exclaimed. “Redirect all fire! Take him out!”

  The rebels gathered at the corner with Pierson and unleashed a withering barrage at their target. In response, Falsrain dropped to a crouch and raised his left arm. Scores of bullets meant for him ripped into the wall and buried themselves in the ground at his feet. He pulled back and retreated through the gate.

  “Let's go after him,” Cena exclaimed.

  She began sprinting for the gate, but Tinubu grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back behind cover just as a barrage of bullets ripped into the ground in front of her.

  “Those guards have the gate covered,” he said. “We'd never make it.”

  “Damn.” Pierson began running back the way they had come and beckoned for the others to follow. “Come on. We'll find another way inside and chase the bastard down. He can't hide from us forever.”

  6 0

  Vic battered down the gate to the inner courtyard and found himself standing before another intricate garden. The center of the courtyard boasted a fountain with its water spout carved in the shape of a beautiful mermaid pouring water out of a slender jug. A multi-story veranda supported by immense columns enclosed the courtyard on all sides. Beyond the far wall, the palace's central structure rose up to touch the heavens, a dark spire against a backdrop of hexago
nal framing and un­canny cloud formations.

  An ominous silence hung over the courtyard. The sounds of battle seemed strangely muffled here. Vic's eyes flicked to his sensors, which were a confused jumble of noise. He panned his camera around the courtyard in search of enemies, but saw nothing.

  “The main structure is just behind that wall,” he said. “We're running out of time. Maybe I should just place my explosive charge and try to bring the whole structure down.”

  Vic's contemplation on the best course of action was brought short by a garbled cry from Astral. He twisted to look around his seat and asked, “What's wrong?”

  Astral was digging at the sides of her face, and her eyes were wide with fear. “I can feel it,” she said in a quavering voice. “Darkness, closing in around us. A malignant will, powerful and intelligent beyond reckoning, bent on our destruction. It's drowning out the Voice with nightmarish whispers.”

  Whether from a heightening of his own senses or in response to Astral's panicked reaction, Vic did not know; but he became aware of a malign presence as well, like stepping into a living shadow. He broke out into a cold sweat and began sweeping his camera across the courtyard once again, more frantically this time.

  “Is it Falsrain?” he whispered. “Where is he?”

  A shadow flickered to the right. Vic swiveled his rotary gun and fired a burst, tearing up a cloud of dust. The vile presence remained; in fact, he felt that it was drawing nearer, closing in from all sides.

  “What is this hideous feeling?” he asked.

  “It's trying to infest our minds,” Astral gasped. “To feed on our thoughts and corrupt us into soulless shells. But I—I'm holding it back. It hates me most of all, because I can channel the Voice.”

  Vic saw a cloaked figure flit through the ruined gate and reflexively fired a burst, striking nothing but earth. He pursued the shadow back into the outer courtyard, his finger held tight over the trigger.

  He was back in the outer courtyard, surrounded by smoldering craters, corpses, and the broken husks of fallen exosuits. Finally, he made out Falsrain's form in the distance, his arms spread wide in a gesture of triumph. Vic brought his crosshairs to bear and zoomed in on the target for a sure shot. As Falsrain's face came into focus, Vic saw that his mouth was spread in a monstrous grin, his eyes afire with hateful light.

  “Do you mean to embrace death?” Vic said. “All right, I'll be your executioner.”

  He squeezed the trigger. In the same instant his rotary gun began spraying fire, the fallen exosuit nearest to Falsrain leapt to its feet and shielded him from the attack. Vic's shots tore into the exosuit's animated carcass, leaving Falsrain unscathed.

  “What the—” Vic gasped.

  “Watch out,” Astral exclaimed. “On your flanks!”

  Vic saw two more risen exosuits closing on him from the left and right. He dashed forward to escape their double lunge, spun around, and fired on them. With surprising agility, the suits spread out and circled around him. He tracked the suit on his left and tore into it with a fusillade of rounds, ripping the left arm free of the frame. Then the ammunition in his rotary gun ran dry.

  Instinctively, Vic knew the other suit would be attacking him from the rear and darted aside just in time to avoid its strike. He blasted its torso into a hundred pieces with a point-blank shot from his heavy cannon, then readied his monomolecular cutter and repelled a strike from the other suit, which lunged with its remaining arm. He repelled its stroke and prepared to thrust his blade into it when a heavy impact jarred him from behind, throwing him to the ground. He recovered by firing his thrusters, narrowly avoiding a burst of fire from yet another exosuit that had joined the fray. He turned to face his foes and saw still more suits rising from their smoldering graves, electrical impulses flashing from deep within their mutilated shells.

  “Saris' Eyes,” he gasped. “Every suit that wasn't completely blown to pieces is coming alive.”

  “Vic, link minds with me,” Astral exclaimed. “It's hard, but I can sort of read Falsrain's intentions.”

  Vic knew that he stood no chance against so many enemies using his own power alone. “All right,” he shouted, “do it!”

  Astral's mind joined with Vic's once more, and his vision swam with the projected shadows of a swarm of enemies. Within the chaotic swirl of images, he could make out vague traces of a pattern. He charged directly into the thick of the enemy and targeted Falsrain with a shot from his cannon. One of Falsrain's shields interposed itself in front of Vic, taking the shot. The high-powered shell blasted the suit's torso to pieces, causing it to fall and lie silent.

  As the two foremost exosuits moved to intercept Vic, he read their movements and weaved through them, bringing Falsrain into view once again. He fired another shot from his cannon; and another of Falsrain's puppets intercepted the shot, exploding into fiery shards.

  The instrument panel emitted a shrill tone indicating that the cannon had run out of ammunition. Now Vic had no more ranged weapons to fall back on. Only his monomolecular cutter remained.

  Another exosuit moved to intercept him. He detached his cannon from its shoulder mount, grabbed it in his free hand, and used it as a bludgeon to knock the suit off its feet. His path now clear, he lunged for Falsrain, only for another enemy to hit him from the side, knocking him off-course. He recovered his balance and found himself beset by foes on all sides, their wrecked shells lunging for him with cutters and robotic limbs. Even one of the fallen Ghosts had joined the fray, lashing out with its deadly microfilaments.

  His pulse and adrenaline raging to their extremes, Vic struggled to track the future movements of all his foes. His monomolecular cutter became a blur, flashing all about, cutting his foes apart piece by piece.

  Finally, he severed so many of the risen Ghost's actuators that it no longer maintained enough physical connections to move, collapsing at his feet. Then a second foe fell in the same way, leaving only one still standing. But in his desperation to thin the ranks of his enemies, Vic's focus had become too narrow. A shadow blade appeared in front of him, plunging itself into his cockpit—the image of a monomolecular cutter about to end his life in less than a second. Time seemed to slow as his mind reached out to every possible response to the impending attack. His breath caught in his throat as he realized there was no way to avoid the strike entirely.

  Choosing the best from a slew of poor options, he pivoted his suit and spun away from the attack. The blade raked across the canopy, slicing a gash through the viewscreen and exposing the world beyond. The blade continued on its trajectory, cutting through the control connections to the legs before deflecting off a piece of armor plating. Vic's suit toppled over, its legs no longer able to receive commands. As he fell, he swung his molecular cutter. The blade found its way through a seam in the enemy suit's armor plating and cut through the main joint that connected the torso with the hip components. The enemy's upper body came free and fell next to Vic's own disabled suit.

  Vic heard a pained cry from the gunner's seat along with an abrupt severing of his mental connection with Astral. He called out Astral's name and, receiving no response, clumsily unfastened his restraints. He twisted around and crawled halfway over the back of his chair. Astral lay still in her seat, her eyes closed and her head tilted at an awk­ward angle. Blood ran down her face from under her helmet. Her spherical MINDs had gone silent, one sitting in her lap and the other lying on the floor at her feet. The rise and fall of her chest indicated that she still lived, but she was unresponsive.

  “Astral!” Vic reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder. “Astral, can you hear me?”

  He heard the groan of heavy metal and turned his attention back to the front. The damage to his suit had made the viewscreen go dark, but he could see through the gash that the enemy's blade had cut through his canopy. A huge metal arm brandishing that same knife rose over his head as his fallen enemy, despite having been severed from its legs, prepared once again to drive its blade deep into the cock
­pit.

  Vic grabbed hold of the controls and raised his suit's arm to block the enemy's downward thrust, then sliced his own blade through its shoulder joint, severing its arm. Then, with his free hand, he grabbed the enemy by the neck and hauled his suit on top of it, stabbing his knife down into its hull again and again, screaming with fury, until finally his foe grew still.

  Silence fell, save for the noise of Vic's own ragged breaths. Slowly, his senses came back to him. Recalling Astral's dire state, he reached under his seat for the first aid kit when another sound, crisp and clear against the quiet backdrop, made him stop.

  Clang. Clang.

  Vic looked up through the crack in his canopy and saw the cloaked silhouette of Falsrain stepping across the wreckage of the downed exosuit. A strange lump had appeared in his forehead, fluttering like the eyelids of someone in the midst of a vivid dream. Falsrain met Vic's eyes and smiled with triumphant exaltation.

  Vic realized that he was alone with Falsrain, and Astral was not awake to protect him. It was like standing naked before a dragon. He was utterly at the monster's mercy.

  With lightning speed, Vic drew his sidearm and pointed it at Falsrain through the cracked canopy when, against his will, his muscles froze. Falsrain held his gaze, his smile not abating even as his face dissolved into an indistinct blur. Piece by piece, the entire world joined him, fading and darkening until finally Vic was surrounded by complete blackness.

  61

  Vic stared in horror at the void that had consumed him. He was surrounded by pure nothingness. He tried to call out, but his voice made no sound. Yet it did not go unheard. It was consumed by something lurking in the darkness, just beyond the reach of his senses.

  “Something moves in the darkness,” a voice said within Vic's mind. “Something is always moving in the darkness, always just beside you. This is the true face of your world, the reality you live in, cloaked beneath a thin shadow of pleasant illusions.”