Soul of the Reaper: A military Scifi Epic (The Last Reaper Book 11)

by J. N. Chaney

  I didn’t bother to comment.

  “My men will take possession of the escape pod,” the hooded man said.

  Squad Leader Daner’s face reddened. “We put a lot of sweat and blood into getting it this far. Taking it from us isn’t right.”

  The hooded man waved one hand. “You will be compensated.”

  “That’s good,” Daner said. “But we don’t work for you. The Council of Oroth sent you to get rid of the clones, and you turned half of them into your pets. That’s going in my report. Out here in the wild systems, you’re something. But back in Oroth you failed to even touch General Hastings. Some say she drove you out of the system.”

  “Who says that?” The hooded man’s voice was barely audible, but everyone heard it, especially Daner.

  He stiffened but didn’t back down. “Don’t forget what the Jump Force Troopers can do when properly supported.”

  “That one is getting brave,” Tom muttered as we watched the scene play out.

  “Has to be Scheid if he controls the clones,” I said. Neither Tom nor Bug argued.

  Scheid’s hood turned slowly. His eyes flashed once, then disappeared in shadow. “You would work for me if that’s what I desired. Contact my quartermaster at Mount Kels. He will pay you for your trouble.”

  “We need a pass to get close to your fortress,” Daner said, “and that’s a long way on foot.”

  Silver Helmet stepped forward, glared at the JFT squad leader, then tossed him a coin nearly the size of a man’s palm. “Then you should begin immediately.”

  Daner caught it without taking his eyes off Silver Helmet, who returned to his squad of shock troopers but continued his condescending speech.

  “That will cover your expenses until then. Do not trouble Lord Scheid further.”

  Scheid barely acknowledged the exchange before issuing orders. “Search that building. Start with the barbershop.”

  Tom pulled a standard infantry pistol from his kit and handed it to me. Apparently he didn’t want to give me either of his best weapons—the rifle or the alien pistol. Bug gave me his handgun as well. I hurried to the other side of the room with a weapon in each fist, looking for the exit.

  26

  This room had a door, and a hallway beyond that. The center of the building was open for ventilation from the main floor to the roof. I saw a courtyard at the bottom that hadn’t been used for a while but had once been nice. The dry fountain and withered gardens spoke of lost glory, but it lacked the look of an abandoned refugee camp, like many places I’d found on Maglan.

  We moved toward emergency stairwells, hoping for one that led to the back of the building.

  “They’ll have it covered,” Tom said.

  “Better than a head-to-head fight with Scheid’s personal guard,” I said.

  “You can’t prove that’s who he is. That name is mostly rumor.” Tom stopped to guard our back trail as we cleared this level of the stairwell. “But you’re probably right. Those goons looked like Reaper clones. The bad ones. Not like you, Hal.”

  “X gave me some additional details, and I’ve got some pretty good instincts.” I waited for input from my LAI, received nothing extra, and motioned downward with my barrel. “Now isn’t the time to confront him.”

  Aiming both pistols down the stairs, I worked my way as wide as possible, attempting to see everything I could during the descent. Each corner was a danger zone that needed to be handled carefully.

  The main floor was silent now that the mechs had slaughtered or driven off the horse dragons. The main hallway was open. We hurried toward the back of the building, aiming into rooms as we passed them but not stopping. We needed a clean getaway.

  The back alley looked clear. We crossed as a team, hurrying toward the shadows of the next building. Two soldiers in black and red armor stepped into the light and aimed rifles.

  “Don’t move, assholes,” said the clone with the most hashmarks on his chest plate.

  The all too recognizable sound of his voice hit hard. For a second, I felt like I had said the words.

  I rushed left, and Tom and Bug darted right. All five of us opened fire at once. My first two rounds struck the faster of the pair, disrupting his shot. The second one scored a hit on Bug, thumping his chest plate like a pneumatic hammer blow.

  Bug staggered. Tom fired the top barrel of his strange pistol. The round flashed once, slamming the man off his feet.

  “Keep moving! Rally on the next street.” I hated splitting up. Sprinting across the street, through an alley, and onto the next street, all I could think about was how short my time with Tom and Bug had been. Easy come, easy go.

  They arrived seconds after I scanned the street for another ambush. Heart racing, I checked my pistols to see how many rounds I had remaining. Verdict—not enough.

  “We dealt with the second clone jerk, but JFT Destroyers are right behind us. They’re looking to get in good with the faceless man, I think,” Tom said.

  We rushed through another alley, seeking as much distance from the main force of our enemies as possible. I heard shouts to stop but ignored them. Squad Leader Daner barked orders at his team.

  “Don’t screw this up,” he shouted. “Just contain them. The Obsidians can do the rest.”

  Obsidians. What a pretentious bag of dicks. Scorning my clones and their JFT lackeys with equal vehemence, I lagged behind my friends. “Take the lead, Bug. You know the area.”

  “Tom knows Marsi best,” Bug said.

  “I got this,” Tom said, then hurried around the next corner.

  We stayed ahead of the JFT. Plans formed in my head. There were too many enemies. I needed some of them on my side. So far, I’d encountered desperate scavengers, Hagg humanoids, razors, dragon horses, Jump Force Troopers, and now Scheid’s mechs and Obsidians. What was next, angry panda cyborgs? Not that I had a clear idea what a panda was, but it sounded dangerous.

  “We’ve got trouble,” Tom said as he abruptly changed course.

  Bug and I followed him into a park, down a set of wide stairs, and around a fountain. Rolling hills, sculpted trees, and withered landscaping concealed our movements. JFT flashlights cut through the darkness. We’d given them the slip, but not for long. I also sensed less obvious movement on other streets and assumed it was Scheid’s Obsidian Troopers.

  At least I didn’t hear the mechs.

  What did the clones think of me? How could they conform to Scheid’s template? No one sharing my DNA could possibly last long under the man’s authoritarian regime. I couldn’t imagine my knock-offs had much sympathy for one of their kind who had broken free of the scientist’s control.

  “This area is too open,” Tom said, out of breath. “We’ll be seen. No other way to go. Enemies everywhere.”

  Elevated streets flanked the park on two sides. Sculptures rose up from a series of fountains. Dry and without decorative lighting, the scene was a macabre version of what it had been. We ran across foot bridges, racing toward stairs that lead out of the park on the far side.

  Daner and his JFT Destroyers were going to beat us. Half the team was heading that way to cut us off. Another squad was paralleling on our left. A third followed behind. In theory, that left us a way out, but it really didn’t. The terrain funneled us straight into Daner’s blocking force. The guy was running a textbook military operation, even if he’d never been part of the Union or trained with them.

  Tom stopped at the foot of the stairs, hiding behind an archway. “I’m sorry, Hal. The other way would have taken us into the Obsidians.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I want to talk to this Daner character,” I said.

  “He won’t turn,” Tom said. “They hate the faceless man and his clones, but they fear them. You heard what they said. All they want is to detain us—through force or negotiation. They’ll have their reward one way or another.”

  I searched the park for the best ground possible in case there was a fight, and I didn’t like any of my options. Even if we
won, the entire place was lower than the streets and buildings around it. We could execute hit and run attacks, but sooner or later, we’d lose. “Let’s at least get up these stairs.”

  Daner and his best fighters waited for us at the top.

  I tucked both pistols through my belt and showed my hands. Tom and Bug secured their weapons and did the same but were smart enough to spread out as much as possible. We formed the shape of a wedge with me as the apex.

  Daner and his troops saw the positioning and didn’t like it. These were hard men, and one woman I thought. None of them spoke except Daner.

  “Don’t give me trouble, clone. Just lie face down and wait for the Obsidians,” he said.

  “You’ve never met a Reaper if you think that’s gonna happen.” I scanned the others so X-37 could analyze their equipment and tactics.

  “I’ve met lots of Reapers,” he said.

  “I’m different.”

  That stunned him. His expression changed. “Yeah, I think you are.”

  “Fill me in. What’s your problem with Scheid? Maybe I can tell you something about him you don’t know.”

  “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but why the hell not, right?” he said.

  “Reaper Cain, he is obviously stalling in order to turn us over to Scheid for a bounty,” X-37 said.

  “I know, X, but I need information. Review my visuals. The Obsidians are already here. They’re watching from the shadows—seventy-five meters on heading zero-two-zero.”

  A pause followed. “You are correct, Reaper Cain. That was a fortuitous assumption. Their armor appears to be an alloy I haven’t seen before. It really does resemble volcanic glass in many ways, but I suspect that is a side effect of the crafting process.”

  “Lord Scheid brought us the problem, then offered to solve it,” Daner said, not hearing or not caring about my conversation with X. “There were only three Reaper clones in the Zakion system, our home, but they did massive amounts of damage. Scheid appeared out of nowhere and offered to capture them but demanded ships, materials, and a lordship.”

  “How do you know all of this? You’re just a squad leader,” Tom said.

  “Common knowledge where I’m from,” Daner said. He glanced the way we had come, looking worried that none of the Obsidians had shown themselves yet. “No one understood he was using Reaper clones to hunt Reaper clones until he was too powerful. The Council of Oroth sent him here to destroy the source of the problem.”

  “The Council of Oroth sound like idiots,” Bug said.

  I replayed Daner’s confrontation with Scheid, adding details he was leaving out of this version. He’d said Scheid had failed to beat General Hastings, and that had to be Elise. Her father had gone MIA a long time ago, and he was about as close to being a general as my boots were to being a fruit salad.

  Daner shook his head. “We interrogated the only Reaper clone we caught, one of the original three terrorizing our capital. He claimed the last Reaper, one that got left behind somehow, was the only one who could stop Scheid. The Council liked that until the prisoner said the last Reaper would also cause the fall of Oroth and liberate the conquered worlds.”

  I waited for something to betray the lie, but Daner didn’t exhibit any sign of dishonesty—other than a few tactical omissions. X-37 was quiet on the matter, which meant something. Detecting bullshit was one of the LAI’s favorite pastimes.

  “So Scheid sent three Reapers to wreak havoc, then showed up to hunt them. One of your interrogation teams beat a confession out of a Reaper clone who claimed yet another clone would destroy them all, and Oroth?” I asked.

  “Not another clone. The real Halek Cain,” Daner said. “Parents tell their kids to behave or the Cain will come for them. In the end, Lord Scheid and the Council agreed they had a mutual enemy.”

  “There’s a problem with that story,” I said.

  “Oh yeah? I’d love to hear it, since I’m telling the truth,” he said.

  “It’s impossible to torture information out of a Reaper.” I scanned the darkness until X-37 locked down the exact position of the Obsidians waiting there. Silver helmet gave them away, standing well ahead of them with his arms crossed.

  “All of them are Reaper clones, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “We cannot fight all of them at once.”

  “Why aren’t the Destroyers running the show?” I asked. “I assume you were sent to keep tabs on Lord Scheid. Then arrest him after he kills Cain.”

  Daner glared at me, done talking, apparently. I’d finally found a sore spot. The JFT Destroyers were Oroth’s elite commandos and not accustomed to losing. They hadn’t expected the scientist to get the best of them.

  “You thought he was done once the station was destroyed, so you set loose razors and dragons, hoping they would do most of your work for you,” I said, pretending I had more confidence than I felt.

  “What the hell do you know?” He gripped his weapon and adjusted his stance to fight. He’d been ready for trouble before, but now violence was imminent.

  “I know that if you don’t listen to me, Scheid will be the one to destroy your home system,” I said. “We should be on the same side. Work with me. Make our escape look real. Then you get your reward, and I get to help you take Scheid down before he takes those mechs to pillage Oroth.”

  His nostrils flared as his eyes narrowed. His team raised their weapons.

  “Last chance, Daner. Do the right thing,” I said.

  “Don’t talk to me, clone. You’re an unclean abomination. At least Lord Scheid is a man.” Daner rushed forward as he finished the sentence.

  “Negotiations failure detected,” X-37 said.

  I sidestepped the attack, firing both pistols at Daner as I moved. Tom engaged two other JFT with his rifle, while Bug ducked behind a partially collapsed wall to avoid gunfire from another enemy fire team.

  This time, I had to leave them behind. Having the team back together had been nice while it lasted.

  The Obsidian Troopers sprinted after me. Silver Helmet took an early lead, but once they found their stride, they ran at the exact same speed. I reached a rail station and charged up a set of stairs, determined to cross the platform before they caught me. When I looked back, the entire squad of black armored clones were running in perfect unison.

  “That’s creepy, X.”

  “Agreed,” X-37 said. “There are four hundred and nineteen details about these clones that deviate from humanity, rendering them creepy, as you so aptly described them.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should laugh or be freaked out by the eery precision of their movements. At the top, I had two choices—run along this side of the platform until it ran out of real estate, or jump the tracks.

  “You have never jumped this distance, Reaper Cain,” X-37 said. “May I remind you of your fear of heights.”

  “Not that high above the tracks.”

  “Ten feet is more than enough to cause injury, Reaper Cain.”

  “Do I at least have a chance?” I leapt through the air and crashed on the edge. Both shins cracked against the concrete. My hand flung forward, clawing for purchase. Stars filled my vision. Pain locked up my lungs. I scrambled onto the platform with the dignity of an overturned bucket of worms.

  “You do not, Reaper Cain.”

  “Wrong again, X,” I groaned, then clawed my way to my feet. “And a little late with that piece of motivation gold.”

  Silver Helmet landed just as hard. Three other suits of black armor struck the edge of the platform and fell backward.

  Who’s laughing now, dumbasses!

  They climbed up but were far behind my silver helmet wearing pursuer.

  The street entrance and exit on this side was a copy of how I came in. I jumped onto a rail and slid down, then hopped clear at the end and poured on the speed.

  Silver Helmet didn’t bother. He took the stairs four at a time, charging forward with no fear of tripping.

  “Help me out, X,” I said. “Find an escape
route.”

  “I am working on it,” X said.

  Gunfire erupted in two other directions.

  “I believe Tom and Bug are engaged with Destroyers.” X-37 displayed coordinates on a grid map. Seconds later, a new grid appeared in my vision with markers showing where I should run. “My analysis suggests you angered SL Daner and he will deal with Tom and Bug harshly.”

  “Can’t help them right now, X.” I abruptly changed course and noticed that Silver Helmet slowed the moment he realized he couldn’t overtake me. “They’ve got a better chance with the JFT than the Obsidian copycats.”

  “Correct, Reaper Cain.”

  “They’re going to fan out and box me in,” I said.

  “Or shoot you.”

  “They would have already done it,” I said.

  X-37 waited for my full attention. I ran through a narrow alleyway and emerged onto a sports field of some sort. “This is a false assumption. My analysis suggests their preferred outcome would be your capture, but everything we learned since you awoke suggests they will kill you before allowing you to run amok.”

  “Who is this guy in the silver helmet?” I jogged through a maze of nets, fields, and obstacle courses.

  “I believe he is very much like the others, and you,” X-37 said. “Something must distinguish him from the others who share the exact same genetics. Please gather more data.”

  Horse dragons screeched their eerie howls. I also heard the distinctive quasi-language of the razors, despite Bug’s promise they rarely came as far as Marsi. They were in the distance. I wished they were all I had to worry about.

  “Anything else you want, X?”

  “There is still a significant amount of data stored on the laptop, which is once again losing power. Soaking in the rubble pile did not improve the condition of the device or its battery,” X-37 said.

  “I want to deal with Silver Helmet alone. One on one.”

  “Appeal to his ego. Call him childish names. That should work.” My LAI almost sounded like that was a personal attack.