by T. G. Ayer
“And bringing Kelem back? Does the toxin fade?” asked Kelem with a cheeky smile.
Nerishka shook her head. “I have to administer a second serum that will revive you. And that has to be done within twenty-four hours. Or you will die.”
Dresden lifted a hand. “OK. Three minutes to go. I had a second shuttle dispatched to the FlatIron district just in case. We can make it there, disable the toxin and remove the device once we’re back on the Teshub.”
Nerishka nodded and Dresden looped his arm around Kelem as Judith helped. They’d begun to lift him off the ground when Lyra called out,
Sure enough, the counter Lyra had placed on the team’s HUDs began to speed up, turning what had been just on three minutes to two minutes and three seconds.
“We can’t move him,” said Nerishka as they lowered Kelem to the floor.
“We’re sitting ducks here.” Judith glanced around. The drones weren’t picking anything up, but that didn’t mean much. Any second, the place could be swarming with soldiers. Azag’s death would no longer be a secret.
“Administer the toxin now,” Kelem grunted with a wave of his hand, a slight smirk on his lips. “We can move ‘him’ after he’s out.”
Judith rolled her eyes. “How long for it to work?”
“A few seconds and he’ll be under. If we can get him to that recycling hatch, there’s no way we can lug him to the FlatIron in time.” Nerishka pointed back to where she’d interrogated Azag, “He’ll be safe until the device is removed.”
“Do it.” Dresden’s tone was hard.
Nerishka sank to her knee and unsealed a pocket on her left arm. Inside was a small metal case containing a hypospray and almost two dozen tiny vials. She grabbed a vial of dark purple liquid, prepared the injector and—after bringing up Kelem’s vitals on her HUD—held it to his neck. The low pop of the hypospray was all that could be heard as the team waited for the toxin to take effect.
Within seconds Kelem’s heart-rate began to slow and ten seconds later Nerishka got to her feet. “Move him quickly. As soon as the device is out we get gone.”
Just as the team reached the hatch, a dozen more enemy indicators flicked on their HUDS.
Nerishka spun on her heel. “I’ll draw them away so you can get out of here. Get him to safety and get that bomb out of him stat.” She hurried to the intersection and peered left down the hall to where Azag’s corpse still lay.
“I’m coming with you,” Dresden yelled.
“No. It’ll take both you and Judith to get the thing out of him. Lyra can guide you if you need it.”
Nerishka didn’t respond, distracted by the armored soldiers heading her way. She moved into the intersection to face the oncoming enemy, then looked left—back at the hatch which was now closed—and right and then behind her, as if hesitating.
Then she headed left, out of firing range, making a beeline for the next intersection. Her HUD showed the red dots clustering where Azag’s body lay, then filing past him toward the crossway. Three green dots flickered beyond the hatch, confirming the team still safe.
Nerishka had just reached a T in the tunnel and had taken the right when shots echoed from behind her, some slamming into her armor. As she raced down the passage she shifted the armor to stealth mode and studied the tunnel around her. Every few hundred meters, hatches were built into the bulkhead. Perfect for what she needed.
As she ran she boosted off the ground and grabbed the handle bars of the next hatch, lifted herself parallel to the bulkhead and hovered there as the soldier streamed into the tunnel behind her. They ran below her without pausing, splitting into two groups at the junction up ahead.
The enemy indicators on her HUD divided into two groups and continued to splinter off as they searched the tunnel system.
As Nerishka broke into a run she felt an energy pulse—or perhaps what could be better described as a lack-of-energy pulse. A second later, she slammed into an invisible wall while Lyra yelled,
Nerishka didn’t have time for a caustic rejoinder as she flew backward. She stumbled, landed on her ass, but pushed off and flipped back to her feet in an instant.
Sidetracked by emotional connections to a team.
A blast of energy hit Nerishka’s body and her vision faded. The last thing she heard was Dresden’s voice on the team Link.
At least something was going right.
CAPTIVE
STELLAR DATE: 10.21.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Ishtar Station
REGION: Ayra System (Independent)
Nerishka came to with a start, eyes snapping open to find herself naked and restrained to a metal chair. Her head drooped down, chin to her chest. She raised it slowly, bleary eyes taking in a spartan cell, nothing more than a narrow cot and a small san unit.
She sat facing the entrance to her cell, which had neither wall nor bars, but rather a grav field that caused the view beyond to waver as though it were being altered by air currents rising off a hot ground.
Nerishka replied, rolling her eyes.
Lyra replied, her voice heavily laden with amusement.
Nerishka sighed.
A rush of fear hit Nerishka in the gut.
Nerishka frowned but even that movement hurt.
Lyra said, her tone mysterious.
Nerishka merely grunted.
Lights flickered on along the corridor outside her cell and the sound of a lock cycling drifted toward her.
What she wouldn’t do right now to be able to send off a swath of drones to check out the dangers approaching. Gritting her teeth, she watched as three people walked toward her cell.
An armed guard led the small procession, dressed in the same dark suit as Azag’s men, only this one wore a light cloak that flowed behind him as he snapped his rifle forward, barrel facing Nerishka.
The first woman was slender and tall, blonde hair piled onto her head in elegant tangles. She wore a simple white shift dress that traced the floor as she moved, the shimmering fabric hugging every curve.
Behind her came a golden-haired woman, and though there was nothing in the blonde’s bearing that implied subservience, something told Nerishka that the woman in her wake was of higher authority.
The blonde drew to a stop and studied Nerishka, a strange expression on her face: something between frustration and indifference. She smiled, then glanced at the second woman as she too came to a halt.
Nerishka lifted her chin and—ignoring the subordinate—studied her regal visitor. The woman wore a floor-length dress, the cut simple, the fabric iridescent, the color a rich gold. Her golden hair shimmered, the gleam echoed in her eyeshadow and on her lips, bringing her golden eyes to the fore.
“That is ‘President Inanna’ to you,” snapped the blonde, her eyes flashing.
“Hush, Sigurd,” Inanna said, patting her subordinate’s shoulder. “Our prisoner has every right to say what she likes. She is not from Ayra, is she?”
Sigurd shook her head and flicked a glance at Inanna before facing the cell and asked, “Who are you and why did you kill General Azag?”
Nerishka lifted one brow. “You seriously want to go with the whole ignorance act?”
Inanna frowned but didn’t say anything. Sigurd cleared her throat. “It would certainly help us if you told us what we need to know. We have a dead general, a furious major, and a handful of dead soldiers. Knowing what you hoped to achieve would help us figure out what to do next.”
“As in how to get rid of me, you mean?” Nerishka smirked.
“Not necessarily. Why don’t we help each other? Make things easier.”
Nerishka shrugged. “Not much to tell you. I came to kill Azag. He’s dead. End of story.” Nerishka decided she was going to keep her cards close until she knew more about what was going on with Inanna.
“Why did you target Azag?” asked the president, her gaze traveling from Nerishka’s head to her toes, a nice little reminder that Nerishka was as naked as the day she was born.
“I’m sure you know why. He was working for you, wasn’t he?” asked Nerishka, tilting her head to study Inanna’s face.
“We’ll be asking the questions,” Sigurd snapped, her tone icy.
Nerishka smiled. “What happened to mutual cooperation?” she asked. “I answered your question.”
“You still haven’t told us who you are,” Sigurd asked.
“I believe that’s above your pay grade,” said Nerishka.
She watched as Sigurd’s jaw tightened and the woman flashed her a look of warning.
LAST RESORT
STELLAR DATE: 10.21.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Ishtar Station
REGION: Ayra System (Independent)
President Inanna sighed, her expression enigmatically calm. “I suppose your identity matters less than the reason you wanted to eliminate the poor general.”
Nerishka shook her head in dismay, “So you’re doubling down on the ignorance game. Fine.”
Inanna let out a decidedly inelegant grunt. “This doesn’t need to be any more difficult than you wish to make it.”
“I’m dead anyway. What difference does it make?” Nerishka sneered, dragging a derisive gaze across the president from head to foot.
Inanna chuckled. “Very well.” She looked at Sigurd, her eyes locked on the blonde’s for a moment, then turned on her heel and glided away, the silent guard snapping to attention then following in her wake.
Sigurd waved a hand and the grav field at the cell’s entrance disappeared away. She entered the room and approached Nerishka. “Why do you want to make this harder on yourself?” she asked, keeping her tone low and even.
Nerishka glanced up at her. “Why do you care how hard or easy this will be on me?”
Sigurd shook her head and smiled. “Whatever happens now, just remember, I gave you the chance to avoid it.” The cuffs fell away, allowing the Sigurd to grab Nerishka’s arm and lift her off the seat, aided by the grav-field that still held Nerishka in its grasp.
Nerishka didn’t resist, curious now to see what she could learn from this woman. Sigurd pushed until Nerishka’s back hit the wall. There the blonde clamped Nerishka’s wrists into metal cuffs embedded in the wall.
Then, Sigurd gave an annoyed huff as she studied Nerishka who was now susp
ended from her wrists. Being naked was one thing, but naked and hanging from a wall was an all too vulnerable position to be in.
Footsteps echoed down the hall and another woman entered Nerishka’s cell.
Major Gilit strode forward, stopping in front of Nerishka, hands on her hips, a steely fury in her eyes.
Even as she said the words, Gilit’s fist shot forward and slammed into Nerishka’s gut, the woman’s gloved knuckles sinking into bare flesh.
“I’ve been told to do whatever is needed to get answers from you. And I can tell you that I’m going to enjoy every minute,” the major growled near Nerishka’s ear.
Nerishka coughed and wheezed as she sucked in a breath. She glared at the major and shook her head, her gaze flicking toward Sigurd who watched in silence.
Gilit grunted and struck Nerishka again, this time, punching her on the left side of the face. Nerishka’s head spun, her teeth crashing against each other.
“Speak if you know what’s good for you. Who are you? Why did you kill Azag? We can’t get inside your head, but I can still wear you down the old-fashioned way. This is just the warmup, something for you to think about before the fun really starts.”
Nerishka remained silent, catching sight of Sigurd who was shaking her head very slightly. Just enough that only Nerishka herself would see the movement. Even the cameras wouldn’t pick it up.
Odd.