by Terry Mixon
Thankfully, Grace was only half a meter above the deck, so the fall didn’t injure her. She stood and pulled her stunner, covering the person that had fallen down the maintenance ladder. That was when she realized it was a child.
A girl of perhaps eleven or twelve years lay sprawled on top of her marines, who were struggling to get to their feet. She had strange, predatory tattoos swirling along her forehead and cheeks and was dressed in what looked like some kind of school uniform.
Before Grace could decide what to do, there were shouts from above and the sound of booted feet on the ladder. Someone was coming.
“Leave her,” she ordered.
That was when the people above began firing flechettes down the ladder. Since they couldn’t see who was at the bottom, that made it pretty damned clear that they were after the girl and had hostile intent.
Grace had no idea why the girl was running from them, but she wasn’t going to leave a child to be slaughtered. She grabbed the semiconscious girl and clutched her to her chest as she turned to run.
The girl cried out in pain. She was undoubtedly injured, but they didn’t have time to address that now. Running would potentially magnify her injuries, but that beat getting shot dead any day of the week.
“Extraction plan bravo,” she ordered into the com on the squad frequency.
They reoriented themselves so that two-thirds of their number were toward the rear of the party as they raced up the corridor. When whoever was coming down that ladder arrived at the bottom, they were going to get a very warm welcome.
“Kayden, to me,” she said.
The man from the Singularity was at her side in a moment, staring at the girl as if she was an armed plasma grenade. “What are you doing? We can’t take her with us. Leave her.”
The glance Grace shot the man could’ve frozen helium. “Imperial Marines don’t leave children behind to die.”
“That’s not a child,” he argued, his voice almost a hiss. “That’s a viper.”
“I don’t have time to argue with you. Why are they after her?”
“Look at her tattoos. She’s a member of the Andrea Line. That’s one of the twelve ruling lines of the Singularity. Children in those lines are hidden away until they’re adults.
“No one really knows what goes on with any of our rulers, but it’s safe to say that they don’t want their members to fall into the hands of their enemies. In this case, quite literally. If they’re shooting, that means they’ve decided that she has to be eliminated. They won’t stop coming.”
“Then it’s doubly important that we get away with her,” Grace said firmly. “I’m going to be asking a lot more questions when we get to Bright Passage, but I want you to put aside the ill will you have toward the ruling caste of the Singularity. Until I say differently, this child is going to be treated as a prisoner.”
“Even the laws of your empire say that she’s not a prisoner,” he argued as they ran. “She’s a genie, as you call them. A being designed and grown from a genetic template. According to Imperial law, she’s not a person, she’s property.”
“What? That’s bullshit.”
“It’s true,” he insisted. “I’m sure it’s a legal fiction designed to outrage the Singularity, but those laws are real.”
The idea of someone being owned sickened her. Still, that law gave her a way to bring the girl with them and to protect her, even from her own people.
“If she’s property, then I claim her as my booty.”
“Your what?” Kayden asked incredulously. “What’s booty?”
“I don’t have time to argue about this,” she said as she ran past where the lead elements were guarding a connecting corridor. “Shut up and do what I’m telling you to do.”
At that moment, the marines behind the fleeing group opened fire. She didn’t have access to the standard marine tactical net, but the mercenary armor did let her see what was going on through small windows on her HUD.
The ambush that she’d set up had been quite effective. The group behind them wouldn’t be bothering anyone else. That didn’t mean that they were out of danger, though.
One of the marines in the front shouted a warning over the tactical net about an ambush ahead of them. The warning was immediately followed up by the attackers opening fire on them from a cross corridor.
The lead marine—Anne Marie Scott—stood her ground, firing to buy time for the rest of the squad to take what cover they could. The woman started backing up even as flechettes ricocheted off her armor in bright flashes, but she was far too close to the enemy.
“Advance,” Grace ordered, even as she spun to present her back to the enemy. Flechettes aimed at the unconscious girl slammed into her back, and her armor began to degrade as she struggled to get the child’s limbs out of the line of fire. Alerts flared to life on her HUD, and she felt a stabbing pain in her upper back.
Her implants reported that it wasn’t deep, so it had to be a shard of her armor. She rotated as much as she could to get the compromised armor out of the line of fire but kept shielding the girl.
Even with her back turned, she could see her people moving up to support the now-wounded Scott through her HUD. That meant she also saw someone on the enemy side throw a grenade around the corner and toward her people.
Scott snatched the grenade out of the air as it tried to sail past her, clutching it to her chest and hunching over to protect her squamates just a single moment before she vanished in a ball of superheated plasma.
The woman’s body disintegrated but lasted just long enough to channel the destructive energy away from the squad. It was still enough to send them all staggering, but no one else was killed.
Anne Marie Scott’s final act of bravery had saved them all.
The squad didn’t hesitate to capitalize on their second chance and rushed the corridor. Someone on their side threw a grenade, and that ended the ambush once and for all.
The blast that had vaporized Scott had left a hole in the plascrete that revealed the rock of the asteroid itself, but Grace managed to get around it. There was nothing left of her dead marine to bring home with them. All they’d be able to take with them were memories of her life and of her sacrifice.
There was no time to grieve. She had to save the rest of her people first. There would be time for tears, toasts, and memories later.
“How did they know we were here?” she demanded.
Kayden blinked at her and then stared at the girl. He pulled a band off her wrist and hurled it to the deck before crushing it under his boot.
“That had to have had a tracker in it,” he said. “Now they won’t be able to find us again, but they obviously know that we’re down here. Please, Grace, leave the girl behind. They’ll never stop hunting her.”
“We’ve killed everyone in both groups. When the asteroid blows up, they won’t know what happened. Maybe they’ll think that their people killed her.”
“And maybe pigs will fly.”
Ignoring his cynicism, Grace signaled Gomez as they ran. “How long until the cargo is loaded?”
“Fifteen minutes, LT. It’s going to take us at least ten to get there if we maintain a good lookout for other ambushers.”
“Be ready to cut the cargo feed as soon as I give you the word. Whatever we’ve got, that’s what we’ve got.”
She opened a channel to Na. She didn’t use a burst transmission this time since she needed real-time feedback. The encryption was going to have to be good enough.
“Na, this is Tolliver. We’ve come under attack. What’s your status?”
“We’ve got the fusion plant booby-trapped, but somebody on the outside sent an override and started a self-destruction timer of their own before we’d fully isolated the damned thing. It’s going to blow in just over half an hour.
“We tried to get into the communications system and warn people to evacuate, but they’re locked down. We’re withdrawing, and I suggest you expedite.”
“Crap,”
Grace said. “You’re going to have to get out of the orbital the same way you came in. We’ll pick you up.”
“Copy that.”
Grace killed the channel and called Anders.
“We’re coming in hot. We’ve run into enemy security and have casualties. Team Two will be exfiltrating the way they entered. Be ready to undock as soon as we get there. The countdown to Code Omega is thirty minutes.”
“Isn’t that a little sooner than planned? What about the civilians?”
“Something is going on, and they decided to blow the station on their own. We’re locked out of the com system. So far as we know, there’s no warning to evacuate.”
“Crap. Hurry up, and we’ll have medics standing by.”
Grace killed the com without responding. This was going to be very tight.
“Gomez, are you still in the cargo control system?”
“I can be. The slate I have is still connected.”
“See if you can worm into the general com system. If so, have Kayden broadcast an evacuation order with the correct time to detonation.”
“On it.”
A minute later, concealed speakers overhead came to life, and she heard Kayden’s voice ordering people to evacuate in the tongue. Warning them that the fusion plant was going to blow. Then an automated countdown began.
Perhaps that had something to do with why they made it to the cargo bay without running into anyone else. Gomez was a little off, as it had taken them almost twelve minutes to get there.
It only took Grace a few seconds to retrieve a rescue ball from one of the lockers outside the cargo bay. She stuffed the now unconscious girl into it and strapped her to the outside of her armor as her people crammed into the airlock. Sixty seconds later, they were in the cargo bay.
They ignored their thruster packs and headed directly to the open hatch, where they could see Bright Passage on the spar just outside, cargo containers still being loaded as they ran.
She reached the edge, judged the distance, and jumped with a bit more energy than she’d intended. Once she was in motion, she was committed, but her jump was good. She was able to spin in place using the microthrusters built into the armor itself and landed on her feet, her knees buckling to mostly absorb the impact. Her magnetic boots locked on before she could bounce off, and she was quickly making her way toward the now-open airlock.
They were going to have to get out of here fast, because no one wanted to be close by when a fusion plant exploded. She’d already lost one person, and she didn’t want to lose any more.
“What’s our time, Gomez?” she demanded as the squad crammed into the airlock.
“Sixteen minutes and thirteen seconds.”
“Where are we on cargo?” she asked as the airlock on the false container cycled.
“The final two containers are already being loaded, so we can’t save any time there. Sixty seconds until we can undock.”
The Fleet medics had a team waiting inside the airlock. Grace handed the rescue ball to them.
“The girl fell onto us from a height of at least several levels. Keep her secure and treat her as an injured prisoner.”
“Yes, ma’am,” one of the medics said as they started extracting the girl from the rescue ball and assessing her condition.
Grace raced to the com panel and called the bridge. Anders answered.
“What’s our status?” she demanded.
“Loaded and moving. There are a lot of ships leaving the transshipment center, so we have good cover. Na and her people are in space, and we’ll pick them up in five minutes. Then we’ll boost as they get into the ship.”
“I’ll come up and brief you now.”
“Looking forward to it. I’m sorry about your marine.”
“Me, too. Tolliver out.”
That done, she headed for the bridge. There wouldn’t be time to tell them about the complications with the child, but she could oversee getting the last of her people picked up.
16
One Twenty-Four awoke in pain, unsure of where she was. The last thing she remembered was falling into darkness. Her head, left arm, and ribs hurt so badly that she could barely think.
She was in an unfamiliar place, lying on a table with a man and woman she didn’t recognize looming large over her. She shrank back from them, uncertain of who they were or their intentions.
The man said something, but the words had no meaning. She couldn’t even comprehend what his intent might be because she’d never heard anything like it before. It was gibberish.
One Twenty-Four had no idea how this could be possible. Were there other languages inside the Singularity that Keeper hadn’t taught them? She’d only heard a conversation between Keeper and people outside the crèche one time, and that had been to the guards that worked for the crèche. She’d understood that.
Perhaps what they’d been speaking all along was a secret language used inside the crèche or within the Andrea Line.
When it became apparent that she couldn’t understand what he was saying, the man went to a panel on the wall and spoke into it. After a few minutes, a woman entered the room.
One Twenty-Four studied her as carefully as she could through the blinding haze of pain inside her skull. She was tall, taller than Keeper. She was also muscular, her skin was a dark brown, and her hair was a deep black.
She wasn’t certain, but she thought the woman looked tired. Worn out as though she’d been exercising or studying some extremely difficult math problems.
The woman stepped over the table and looked down at One Twenty-Four, her expression guardedly friendly. “My name is Grace Tolliver. You’re safe here.”
One Twenty-Four wasn’t sure what surprised her more: the fact that the woman could speak the language of the crèche—if that was what she’d really been speaking—or the fact that she spoke it so poorly.
It took all of One Twenty-Four’s limited ability to concentrate to make certain that she could actually understand what the woman was saying.
“Where am I?” One Twenty-Four asked slowly. “Who are you? Do you work for the crèche?”
The woman shook her head. “I don’t work for the crèche. In fact, I have no idea what a crèche is. Before I explain who I am, I need to know who was trying to kill you.”
The memories of what had happened came flooding back. How Thirty-One had thrown her into the darkness beyond the hatch. How she’d fallen for a seeming eternity and crashed into something at the bottom.
Suddenly panicked, she reached for her injured arm, ignoring the stab of pain in it. She had to get rid of the wristband, or they’d track her.
But the wristband was gone.
“I had a wristband,” she said hurriedly. “The guards can track it.”
“It’s gone,” the woman said gently. “They can’t get to you here. You’re safe. Now, tell me what happened and why they wanted to kill you.”
“One of my line sibs betrayed me. She pushed me into the darkness, and I fell. She wanted to kill me, and I suppose she’s succeeded.”
The woman scowled. “Why would she do that, and why would anyone shoot a child?”
“Because the Line cannot allow us to be captured by our enemies. If the Empire were to get their hands on us, they would do terrible things to us. Unthinkable things.”
“Like what?”
One Twenty-Four felt her eyes narrow. “Surely, you know. They see the uplifted lines as things to be studied and eradicated. They would dissect me, study every portion of my insides until they understood how I worked, and then dispose of my remains. We’re not people to them.”
The woman shook her head and sighed. “I think both sides of this fight have some misunderstandings that they’ll have to overcome if they’re ever to have peace.
“My name is Grace Tolliver. My people and I have just conducted a raid on the transshipment center where we found you. Because your associates were trying to kill you, we took you with us when we left. You’re on our ship, and
we’re headed back to the Empire.”
For a moment, One Twenty-Four was sure that she’d misheard the woman. Then she gasped as horror flooded her. She had to get out of here.
She tried to rise from the table, but the woman put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. One Twenty-Four pulled the woman’s hand away, causing pain to flash across her face.
Before she could rise, the other two people were on her, holding her down as she thrashed wildly. Even if she’d known how to fight, she’d have been at a severe disadvantage with her injuries. They pinned her to the table as she wailed in terror.
The woman leaned over her. “You don’t have to fight us. You’re under my protection, and I won’t allow anyone to harm you. You have my word. These people are doctors. You were injured in the fall, and they’re trying to care for you. Stop fighting us.”
“How can this be?” One Twenty-Four whispered as she stilled. “This isn’t possible.”
“It is. We don’t want to hurt you, but they’ll have to strap you down to keep you from further injuring yourself. You don’t know me, but I’m asking you to trust me. Let the doctors help you.”
What should she do? Was it her duty to fight? Did she still have an obligation as an outcast?
One Twenty-Four just didn’t know enough about the situation, and she couldn’t fight effectively. Perhaps she should wait for a better time to escape if she decided that she should. As it was, her own people would kill her on sight. Death awaited her no matter what she did, so why was she fighting so hard?
She tried not to shake in terror. “My name is One Twenty-Four, and I’m a child of the Andrea Line. Or I was. Now that I’m gone, they’ll kill me as soon as they find me. If, of course, they find me before you have the opportunity to do so.”
The woman looked down at her for a few moments and then stepped back, rubbing her wrist where One Twenty-Four had grabbed it. “The only way to change your mind is to give you time to understand who we really are. I have to go talk to the rest of our leaders, but I’ll be back. Please, these people only want to heal you. Don’t attack them.”