The creatures kept advancing, reaching out their claws, surrounding the remaining soldiers.
"No, it's not them," Ben-Ari said softly. "Maybe they have the DNA of our friends. But that doesn't mean it's them. They were never babies. They never grew up in loving families. They know nothing but hatred, a mockery of life. These are not our friends, just zombies cobbled together from our friends' flesh." She raised her gun. "And we end this now."
Ben-Ari fired. A stream of plasma shot out and slammed into the centipede with Sergeant Singh's face.
The creature screamed.
Singh's face melted, revealing the skull, and Ben-Ari kept firing, tears in her eyes, and her lips kept moving, and Marco could read her words. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
The other creatures leaped toward them.
The monster with Caveman's face charged toward Marco. Its hands swung. Its claws stretched out, long as daggers, and slammed into Marco's armor. The graphene and steel tore open like a tin can. Marco fell onto the skulls, his side bleeding. The centipede with Caveman's face stared down at him, drooling, eyes mad.
"Marco . . ." it said. "Marco, why did you leave me to die?"
Its claws thrust down again, ripping metal panels off Marco's leg, cutting his skin.
"You're not him!" Marco shouted.
"You killed me, Marco," Caveman said, rising higher, many torsos stacked together, many arms spreading out. "You'll be like us. You—"
Marco fired his gun. The plasma shot out, washing over Caveman. The creature screamed, and as it screamed, as it burned, it sounded less and less like a monster to Marco, more and more like a human. Like his old friend.
And he was begging. He was begging for his life.
Marco held his fire, and the creature that was half Caveman collapsed, dead.
"I'm sorry," Marco whispered. "I'm sorry."
Then he shouted in sudden rage, tears in his eyes, and fired his gun again. The others fired with him. And they burned the creatures. Some of the soldiers—those who had joined their platoon in the tunnels, who wore no exoframes—they died, cut by the creatures' claws. More and more of the hybrids kept emerging from the sea of skulls on the floor.
Three of the creatures leaped onto Osiris, tearing off her uniform, her synthetic skin, exposing the crackling, sparkling innards. The android looked at Marco, met his gaze with lavender lights in a white plastic skull, and then her lights darkened, and she fell.
Sergeant Jones tossed aside his gun, out of plasma. The beefy NCO bellowed, drew a knife, and leaped onto the centipede with Elvis's face. The creature swatted aside the knife, grabbed Jones's head, and crushed the helmet, crushed the skull. Blood spurted. The massive warrior, the platoon's second-in-command, fell onto the bones, his head cracked open.
Marco screamed, weeping, and fired his gun, letting the plasma wash over Jones's corpse, wash over Elvis, wash over his deformed friends, wash over this whole damn war and all his grief and memory and loss. And they burned. He burned them all, firing again and again until the entire chamber was smoke and charred meat and melting bones.
Marco fell to his knees, panting.
The creatures were all dead.
Marco. Ben-Ari. Addy. Lailani. They were all who remained. Four living souls, trapped in this chamber of death.
The four of them . . . and him.
The emperor sat on his throne, staring down at them. When Marco had first landed on this planet, he had imagined a giant bug, as large as the king he had fought above the mines of Corpus. But this creature was small as a baby. Finally Marco could get a good look at it. He could not determine its species. It was not scum, not fully, at least. Mandibles thrust out from its jaws, but that was the only feature of an arthropod. Its body was humanoid, wilted, the white skin pressing against the ribs. Gills opened and closed on its neck, and rudimentary wings thrust out from its back. Each of its limbs was different: a hoof, a claw, a tentacle, a leg, a tail, an arm and hand.
"It's a bunch of different creatures," Addy said. "All mixed together."
Marco nodded. "The scum don't use tools, don't build technology like humans. They're genetic engineers. Their ships, their soldiers—all built by engineering DNA they steal across the galaxy. This isn't an emperor so much as a scientist. An experiment."
The creature on the throne laughed. "I am the cosmos. I am life. Every species in this galaxy is weak. I take from them all. I make myself strong. The best traits of every civilization quiver through my body. Humans . . . Ah, humans. So clever. So cruel. So ready to kill. I have taken much of your cunningness and cruelty into myself."
Marco noticed that the creature was wounded. One of their plasma blasts must have hit it. Its side was burnt, bleeding, perhaps the reason it no longer scurried through the chamber. Marco raised his gun and pointed it at the emperor.
He fired.
Yet the creature was still fast. It leaped from its throne and clung to the ceiling. Addy fired her own gun, and the emperor leaped down, dodging the blasts. It snarled, scurried aside, avoiding a bolt from Ben-Ari's gun. It was like a rabid dog, hissing, sneering, and it began to grow. Its body bloated, thrusting out spines, and drool dripped from its fangs. Soon it was the size of a man.
"Now . . . it's time to die."
The emperor howled and charged toward them like an enraged bull.
They fired. The emperor dodged the bolts. It leaped toward them, growling, reaching out claws and fangs, whipping from side to side at incredible speed, then jumping into the air and—
The emperor froze.
It hissed.
It fell down, cracking the skulls beneath it, only feet away from Marco.
Lailani walked up toward the emperor. She pulled off her helmet and stared down at the creature, which was shrinking, soon the size of a baby again.
Tears flowed down Lailani's cheeks.
"You placed the hive inside my brain," Lailani whispered. "You made me a part of this corrupt web. But they fixed me. The humans fixed me. You can no longer control me." She pointed her gun at the emperor. "But I can still control you."
The emperor tried to rise, screaming. It managed to reach out claws, but Lailani stared at it, snarling, and the emperor fell again. Lailani twisted her hands, and the emperor's limbs twisted too, creaking, snapping. The creature screeched so loudly skulls shattered on the floor.
"That's right," Lailani said. "Be afraid. I was afraid for so long. You were able to control me before. When my brain was yours. But there's a little chip inside there now. A chip placed there by my people. I am human. Do you hear me?" She was shouting now. "I am human! You cannot control me! With the weapon that you gave me, I can hurt you. I can reach you through the web. I can feel your brain—so weak, so afraid. You are nothing." Lailani was shaking, tears falling. "You are not any of the beings you stole. You are nothing but a thief, just a thief cloaked in others' clothes. But I'm human." She looked at Marco, smiling through her tears. "For the first time, I'm fully human."
The emperor wailed and leaped toward Lailani, fangs bared.
Lailani fired her gun.
The plasma bathed the emperor, and the hybrid fell, howling in agony.
The other soldiers added their flames. The plasma washed over the emperor, and the creature wailed, wept, begged. It twisted on the ground, reaching up claws. It grew to the size of a man, then the size of a horse. It shrunk to the size of a mouse. It became a writhing centipede, still twitching, still screaming.
"Mercy!" it cried. "Mercy!"
But still they burned it.
They burned it until it crumbled. Until it was nothing but ashes. Until it moved no more.
Addy's gun ran out of plasma first, dying with a clicking sound. Ben-Ari and Lailani's guns followed. Marco removed his hand from the trigger to see just a single bolt of plasma left in the charge.
The scum emperor was dead.
They lowered their weapons, and from across the tunnels, they could hear a great ruckus, millions of screeches and voices. Ben
-Ari's communicator crackled.
"The scum!" rose the voice of a soldier somewhere far above in the hive. "They're fleeing! They're fleeing the hive!"
Marco approached Lailani, and they fell to their knees together, holding each other, shaking, weeping.
"It's over," Lailani whispered. "It's over. It's over. It's—"
A crackling sounded.
They turned toward the pillar of bones that rose in the center of the chamber.
Skulls rolled down the structure, and from within, emerging like an animal from its burrow, stepped an old woman with long white hair, her eyes haunted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The soldiers stared, eyes wide.
The old woman stepped toward them, eyes sunken into her deeply wrinkled face. Scraggly white hair hung down to her waist. She wore only wisps of cloth, and tubes were attached to her veins, running into the floor.
The human prisoner, Marco thought. The scum emperor had every kind of alien species as a pet. Here is the human.
The woman reached toward them, her limbs shriveled down to the bones. Her mouth opened, toothless, but no words came out. She looked, Marco thought, like those old photos of Holocaust survivors after the camps had been liberated. He rushed toward her, as did the others. Addy pulled a blanket out from her pack, and they wrapped it around the old woman.
The prisoner tried to speak again. Only a hoarse whisper left her mouth. She fell to her knees, wept, and clung to Marco's legs.
"Thank you," she seemed to be saying, her voice slurred. "Thank you."
A choked sound rose from behind them.
Marco turned and gasped.
Admiral Evan Bryan himself—the hero of the war fifty years ago, the general who had led this massive invasion—stepped into the chamber.
Tears were running down his cheeks.
The silvery-haired admiral ran across the chamber and knelt before the old woman.
"Helena," the admiral whispered, eyes wet. "Helena, I'm here. I'm finally here. I came back for you."
The old woman touched Admiral Bryan's wrinkled cheeks with trembling fingers. "Evan. Evan, it's you. It's really you."
Evan embraced the woman, weeping. "I've got you, my wife, my love. It's over now. Your captivity is over. I'm taking you home."
The old woman—Helena Bryan—trembled with sobs. "My husband. My husband. For so many years, I waited. For five decades, I waited. But I always knew you'd come back for me. I always knew. I never lost hope. I love you."
The soldiers watched them, standing around the couple. When Marco glanced at the others, he saw that Addy, Lailani, and even Ben-Ari had tears in their eyes.
"His wife," Addy whispered. "His wife was captive here all these years. Since the Cataclysm."
"I'll call the medics," Ben-Ari said, reaching for her helmet's communicator. "She needs help. I—"
"Hold it right there," Admiral Bryan said, and suddenly the old man was pointing a gun at Ben-Ari. "Stop that call."
The soldiers all froze, staring at their general.
"Sir, I—" Ben-Ari began.
"Remove your helmets," Admiral Bryan said. He took a step away from his wife, gun still pointing at Ben-Ari. "All of you. Toss them aside. No communicators. Do it!"
The soldiers glanced at one another.
"Sir, she needs help," Ben-Ari said. "Why—"
Admiral Bryan fired his gun. A bolt of plasma slammed into Ben-Ari's chest, piercing through the metal armor, burning through her. She fell.
"Ma'am!" Marco cried, making to run toward her. "Lieu—"
"Freeze!" Admiral Bryan said, pointing his gun at Marco next. "Drop your weapons and helmets, all of you. Do it or I'll shoot this one too."
Addy and Lailani froze, hissing, guns raised halfway.
"Toss them!" Bryan shouted. "That is both an order and a threat."
Grumbling, Addy and Lailani tossed down their guns, then their helmets with the built-in communicators. Marco did the same. Ben-Ari lay on the ground; Marco wasn't sure if she was still alive. The three corporals—Marco, Addy, Lailani—stood before their admiral, their weapons and communicators gone. Helena knelt farther back, staring with wide eyes, trembling.
"You fucking bastard," Addy whispered, staring at the admiral. "You killed Ben-Ari. You fucking killed her. Why?"
"Why?" Bryan said. "Don't you understand? Don't you know anything about love?" Suddenly the admiral's eyes were damp again. "Helena is my wife. And I love her more than anything. More than the cosmos. And nobody can know. Nobody can ever know she's my wife. I'm going to take her to a medic myself, and all they'll know is that I found a prisoner here. A stranger. A stranger whom, in a few months, I will marry. Nobody will ever know the secret, that fifty years ago, my wife flew with me to war against the scum. That the aliens captured her. That for fifty years, I've been trying to get her back."
"Why are you doing this?" Addy shouted. "Why keep it a secret?"
But Marco understood. He spoke in a low voice, and his shoulders slumped. "Because this war could have been avoided. Because millions of lives could have been saved. Because we could have had peace."
The admiral nodded. "Yes. This one understands. Emery was always intelligent. I saw that in him early." Bryan stared at a wall, seeming to stare back in time. "Fifty years ago, the scum dealt a devastating blow to Earth. They killed billions. It's what we call the Cataclysm. A few of us brave pilots flew to war. I was only twenty-one years old, more balls than brains. Only days before, I had married Helena, a fellow pilot, the love of my young life. I nuked the scum's world, destroying millions of them. But Helena crash-landed onto the planet. The scum captured her. And then, as they buried their millions of slain . . . the scum offered us peace."
"Peace," Lailani whispered, kneeling over Ben-Ari. "We could have had peace fifty years ago?"
"But not with my wife," said Bryan. "Helena had come to bomb them. They would not release her as part of any peace treaty. They were determined to keep her in this dank, dark cell for the rest of her life. And so I refused their peace offer." His eyes hardened. "And I would do it again. And again. A million times over. And so, for the past fifty years, every time the scum offered peace, I refused. Every time the War of Attrition deescalated, I launched new attacks on their hives. I had to keep the war alive. I had to make the war worse. Four years ago, the scum sent me a message: that Helena was ill, nearing the end of her natural life." He took a shuddering breath. "And so I withdrew the defenses from Corpus, allowing the scum to take that world, to breed there. And so I withdrew the defense system from Vancouver, allowing them to destroy it. And so I made sure that our conflict escalated into full war, that the United Nations and the HDF's Chief-of-Staff would authorize this invasion, that they would grant me a hundred thousand ships and ten million troops. To come here. To kill the emperor. And to save her, my wife, my beloved, at the very end."
"Millions of people died!" Addy shouted, eyes red, fists clenched. "My parents died! Marco's mother died! Millions of people on Earth died. Millions of soldiers in space died. We could have had peace! They could have been saved. You let them die. You killed them!"
Admiral Bryan had tears in his eyes, but he squared his shoulders and raised his chin. "Yes. I let them die. I could have saved millions of lives. But I sacrificed them all to save just one life. To save the woman I love. That burden will forever be mine to bear. And now . . ." He pointed his gun at Marco, then at Addy, then at Lailani. "Now I must sacrifice three more lives. Three more who know the secret. Three more before it all ends."
The admiral pointed his gun at Marco and pulled the trigger.
"No!" Helena shouted, grabbing her husband's arm, yanking the gun aside.
Marco leaped sideways, and the blast of plasma seared the top of his shoulder.
"Evan, no!" Helena cried. "Let no more die for me!"
Admiral Bryan tried to shake her off. He fired again, but Helena tugged his wrist again, and the blow hit the wall. Marco leaped, grabbed his fallen
rifle, and fired his last bolt of plasma.
The bolt tore through Admiral Bryan's chest, emerging from the other side.
The admiral fell to his knees, then to his side.
Marco stood still, panting, staring down at the old man.
Bryan reached up and held his wife's hand. Helena knelt above him, tears falling.
"Helena," the admiral whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry . . . I love you . . ."
As his wife held him, Bryan's breath died, and his glassy eyes stared at the ceiling.
Marco rushed toward Lieutenant Ben-Ari. She lay on the skulls, a hole in her chest, but she was still breathing. Marco grabbed his fallen helmet and hit the communicator.
"We need a medic!" he shouted. "Medics in the lower cell! Hurry!"
Fingers shaking, Marco placed a bandage on Ben-Ari's wound, and he held her hand. His commander looked up at him, eyes sunken, her skin gray. She blinked, tried to whisper something, could not speak.
"It's all right, ma'am," Marco whispered. "You're all right. Help is on the way."
Ben-Ari placed her bloody hand on his. She smiled softly. Her eyes closed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
They were going home.
After months of war, of heartache, of loss, of pain, they were going home.
Marco stood in the lounge of the HDFS Terra, flagship of the human fleet, staring out the viewport. Below him lay the ravaged world of Abaddon, planet of the scolopendra titania, a planet in ruin. Its hives had been destroyed, filled with concrete. The emperor was dead, his connection to his soldiers lost. Already across the galaxy, hives of scum on other worlds were disoriented, fleeing, dying, no central power to command them.
The war was over.
Humans won.
But we won at a terrible cost, Marco thought.
The remains of the human fleet gathered behind the Terra. They had flown here with a hundred thousand vessels; only ten thousand remained. Ten million troops had come to battle the emperor; only a quarter million were flying home. Only a handful of the alien allies' ships remained; the rest would never return to their planets. In future history books, Marco knew, they would name this the most devastating battle since the Cataclysm.
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