Death Defied

by Justin Sloan

  “And I’ve got the mechanical skills. Willom is a freaking cyborg. There’s gotta be something in his house we can use to our advantage. Let’s look around.”

  Bob nodded, then hesitated, glancing down at Daschle.

  The Skulla coughed weakly. “The best way you can help me is by figuring us a way out of here. Get to it.”

  Jilla and Bob tore the house apart for the next twenty minutes, piling every piece of technology they could find in the center of the big room. When all was said and done they had five optical cameras that had been mounted in the walls, three video monitors, a small computer that appeared to be used for diagnostics, and a cyborg arm. Thankfully, they did find a nice set of tools under the bed.

  For a male who was half-machine, Willom didn’t have a ton of electronics laying around.

  “That’s because he keeps them in giant piles in his yard,” Bob pointed out when Jilla said as much.

  While Bob went digging around in the diagnostic computer, Jilla got to work dismantling the cybernetic arm. She had to admit it was a mechanical marvel. She also had to admit she had no idea what to do with it, other than maybe build another cybernetic arm.

  After spending half an hour brainstorming what they could build, Jilla got so frustrated she actually tried Bob’s dumb idea of pretending to be Willom. It went about as well as she’d expected, and she almost got shot when she edged a toe past the threshold of the house.

  She wandered back to the center of the room and reverted to her natural form, wondering how the hell they were ever going to get past these things.

  “Huh,” Bob said as he stared at the computer screen.

  “Is that a good ‘huh’ or a bad ‘huh?’” Jilla asked.

  “I don’t know yet.” He leaned closer, squinting at the screen. “I’m picking up a signal from the house itself, as if there are electronics built into the walls. I wonder what the purpose of that might be? Just more shielding from the Aranaught?”

  “Hell if I know.” Jilla shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. The temperature was dropping in the house. She imagined the retracted wall wasn’t helping the insulation.

  She felt something in her pocket that gave her pause. It was a mechanical part. She pulled it out of her pocket and smiled as she realized what it was.

  “Daschle, you hanging in there?” Bob asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.

  There was no answer.

  “Daschle?” Jilla called. She hurried over to him, not waiting for a reply.

  The Skulla lay on his back, his open eyes staring at the ceiling. The hand that had been clutching his wound hung limp at his side.

  “Son of a bitch,” Jilla whispered, blinking back tears.

  Bob stepped to her side. She glanced at him and saw he’d gone pale. “This shouldn’t have happened. There was no reason he had to die.”

  “There’s a reason,” Jilla said through gritted teeth. “That bastard Willom.”

  “He can’t get away with this.”

  “He won’t.” Jilla held up the part she’d taken from her pocket. “Recognize this?”

  Bob stared at it blankly.

  “It’s the kill switch from the Nim. The device meant to power down the ship if it got too far from SEDE.”

  His eyes widened. “You think we can use it?”

  Jilla nodded slowly. “I have an idea. If it works, we’re going to get out of here and then we’re going to pay Willom back for what he did to us, what he’s trying to do to Kalan, and most of all for what he did to Daschle.”

  ***

  Kalan stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the cold metal fingers wrapped around his neck. They been flying south for twenty minutes, most of it in silence. Kalan had spent the flight considering how he might get out of this situation and hoping Wearl didn’t do something stupid that got them both killed.

  He still couldn’t believe the Shimmer had managed to sneak aboard. Willom had known about her, had called her out at his house, but apparently he’d trusted his robots a bit too much. He hadn’t ordered them specifically to keep the Shimmer inside, so they hadn’t.

  And now here she was, waiting for her chance to rip their boss’s head off.

  Finally Kalan decided to try to strike up a conversation. “You gonna tell me where we’re going?”

  The cyborg shrugged. “I don’t see why not. We’re almost there, after all. Just a few more minutes and we’ll arrive at Outpost Foxtrot.”

  “Foxtrot? I thought there were only five outposts.”

  Willom grinned. “There are. Five that are finished, at least. I was about halfway through construction on the sixth when I was captured, and I guess my good buddy Talrok never got around to completing it. It’ll make for a nice spot to hand you over to Aranaught.”

  Aranaught. The name sent a chill through Kalan.

  “Why’s she want me so badly?” he asked. “You said it’s not to turn me into a cyborg freak like you.”

  “Not as far as I know. She might do that just for fun, though.”

  “Why, then?”

  Willom chuckled. “Since you’ve been through your father’s notes, I take it you know about our heritage? What the Grayhewn were originally called?”

  Kalan nodded as best he could with the hand around his throat. “The Bandians.”

  “Exactly. What do you know about the Lost Fleet?”

  Kalan thought for a moment. There had been references in his father’s notes, but they’d been vague. He’d grown up hearing rumors about them, of course, but he didn’t know what was fact and what was legend. “I know that supposedly they were this great fleet of ships that left many years ago. The way I heard it they fight for justice, and they vowed to return to the Vurugu system if they were ever needed here.”

  “Not bad.”

  “Wait, are you saying they’re real?”

  “I have no idea. The important thing is that Aranaught thinks they’re real. Remember when I said I was taken when Aranaught was still developing? She didn’t only want to use me for experiments, she wanted information. She especially liked my stories, and she forced me to tell them again and again. It seemed like the distinction between fact and legend was lost on her. She was especially fascinated with tales of the Lost Fleet and the Bandians.”

  “Why those two?” Kalan asked.

  “You left out one thing about the Lost Fleet—they were supposedly closely aligned with the Bandians. And Aranaught badly wants to control the Lost Fleet. She believes she could control the system with them by her side.”

  Kalan was starting to get the picture. “So Aranaught thinks that if she has a Bandian she may be able to win over the Lost Fleet? That’s insane!”

  Willom shrugged again. “Don’t question it. You want my advice, go with her plan. If you cooperate she might even make you a general or something. I’m sure it would look better for her to have a willing Bandian on her side than a broken one.”

  Anger leaped up in Kalan’s chest, and he couldn’t keep it out of his voice when he spoke again. “So that’s your advice? Be her willing slave, all so you can keep living your life in the junkyard? How long has it been since you’ve seen another Grayhewn, and this is how you treat me?”

  Willom shook his head sadly. “Boy, you’re really hung up on the whole Grayhewn thing. You think because we share the same blood I owe you anything? I’ve never seen you in my life. I don’t know you.”

  “But you knew my father!” Kalan was practically shouting now.

  “Kalan, relax,” Wearl said in his ear. “You have to make it to the ground alive, then I’ll take him out.”

  Kalan ignored her, not even considering how far he’d fallen when Wearl was the voice of reason. “We could be something great together. I’ve seen you fight. Together we could stand up to Aranaught.”

  “You’re a fool,” Willom snarled. “It’s too late. I’m outside my home. The portable shield I built into my leg can’t keep her out, not fully. She can see us and hear us. She knows we
’re coming, and she’s going to meet us there.”

  Kalan fumed with anger. He wouldn’t let this happen. He refused to be a pawn in an AI’s game. “If that’s how you feel, you’re not worth saving. I’d rather we both die.” He paused, turning toward the empty space behind him. “Take him out, Wearl.”

  “Wearl?” Willom asked. “Who’s Wearl?”

  Then his eyes widened as the realization hit him.

  “The Shimmer!”

  BOOM!

  Wearl’s rifle sounded even louder than usual in this enclosed space. Willom rocked forward as the rifle hit him in the back, tearing off his flesh and his clothes and leaving his back a mess of exposed metal.

  Somehow he managed to hold onto Kalan’s throat, and as he sat up he snarled at Kalan and began to squeeze.

  Kalan clutched at the hand around his throat, trying in vain to pull the fingers away. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a low choking sound.

  “Damn it all!” Wearl cursed. “What the hell is this guy made of?”

  Kalan clutched at Willom’s arm.

  “I can’t shoot his arm off,” Wearl said absently. “Too dangerous. If he’s holding on tightly it might rip your throat out too.”

  Kalan made the choking sound again.

  “Fine,” Wearl muttered. “If I can’t take him out, then I’ll take us all down.”

  BOOM!

  Wearl fired into the control panel, and immediately an alarm began to blare.

  “No!” Willom yelled. He let go of Kalan’s throat and swung at the area behind them, but Wearl had moved out of the way already so his hand hit nothing but empty air.

  He turned back to the control panel, his face a mask of panic. The engines were firing at full power, and they were aimed at the surface with no way to course correct or decelerate. Smoke poured from the console. They were going down, and Willom knew it.

  He turned to Kalan. “Your Shimmer’s a fool. I’m going to survive the crash. Will you?”

  Kalan rubbed his throat, trying to ignore the searing pain. “I sure hope so, because I really want the opportunity to kick your ass.”

  He found the helmet at his feet and slipped it on just in time. A moment later, they slammed into the surface and everything went black.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Tol’s Moon

  When Valerie and her team had flown out of the space station to escape with their lives she certainly hadn’t thought that she’d come charging back in so soon. Yet here she was, crammed into one of those small fighter planes, tearing through space toward an array of enemy robot-flown fighters coming their way.

  A storm of turret-based fire from the space station tore up more than one of the fighters along the way, but now Valerie was sweeping in close, thanking her luck that it hadn’t been her.

  Even more so, she was glad that Robin hadn’t been shot down. That was as likely because of her erratic flying than anything else, though.

  “Get in close and take out the last of the turrets!” Arlay shouted over the comm system. Her fighter flew ahead of Valerie’s, diverting a few of the enemy so that the fighters behind her could take them out.

  “Thanks for clearing the path,” Valerie replied as she dove toward the space station, eyes peeled for any sign of the fake Talrok and his henchmen.

  She passed turrets that sparked and exploded as she made contact, and then she spotted him in the central hub, watching her. His face was red from the lighting of his helmet and distorted by the faceplate, but it was him, no doubt.

  She turned the fighter and aimed it right for him, checking her helmet and weapons, and opened up on him. Bullets tore into the glass, creating a nice spiderweb effect and then with a massive burst the glass gave, flying out in every direction and entering space.

  Only Talrok wasn’t there anymore. Valerie cursed as she pulled the fighter up and out of harm’s way, then turned to circle the command center to look for any more signs of him.

  Again he appeared, now staring at her from another window.

  She repeated the action, this time careful to keep an eye on him, but before she had a chance to swing around for a second pass to start firing he was gone.

  A swarm of drones flew out to meet her, peppering the hunk of metal she was flying with holes. That was fine, since she had every intention of going after Talrok on foot anyway. She hoped the plane would make it that far.

  After shooting as many as she could, she angled the plane for the window where she had last seen her opponent and prepared to jump. When she got close, the plane took more shots and began to wobble. There would be no recovering from this, so it was now or never.

  After hitting the release, she jumped free and aimed for the top of the command center. It was a dome supported by metallic beams and she landed on the smooth curved top, nearly sliding off as soon as she had landed.

  More shots hit the roof where she was holding on. She let the space station’s weak gravity take her and jumped up to grab one of the metal beams, then swung through the now-broken window of the command center.

  She landed, rifle already at her shoulder, ready for that son of a bitch.

  “Where the fuck are you!” she shouted after checking the whole room. She ran to the center’s edge, where a drop off made a hole like a tube with a metal cylinder down the middle.

  What the hell was this place? She stepped closer, looking all the way down, senses alert in case anything or anyone tried to sneak up on her. She was somewhat cognizant of the buzz of drones and the explosions as the other fighter planes worked to destroy them.

  No time for fooling around, she thought, about to keep looking when she caught sight of him down there.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she grumbled, then took the leap, throwing herself from ledge to ledge until she was at the level where she’d seen Talrok.

  As her feet hit a barrage of shots hit her, knocking her aside and denting her armor.

  If there was one thing she wanted to do when all of this was done, it was get armor that couldn’t be dented. That was getting old fast.

  She shouted and opened fire on the wall turrets, darting back and forth in the room so fast they couldn’t keep up. Then she was close enough to smash the first, and took out the second with a well-placed shot.

  Darkness took over, but not for her. She glanced around, wondering what he was playing at.

  Then to her surprise he was there, walking right toward her. As he did so, he removed his helmet so that she could see his smile.

  “Ah, you humans are so cocky, aren’t you?” He shook his head, eyes narrowed. “Thinking you know what’s best for everyone, thinking you can fly up here and mold everything as you see fit.”

  “One of us has to look out for the little people…er, aliens.”

  “I am…trust me. When this is over, we’ll have a defense that Earth and all you pitiful Federation types won’t stand a chance against. Come at our wall of fire, see if you don’t get burned. Please, please pursue me if you live after this.”

  She glanced around, eyebrow raised. “After this? From where I’m standing, I have you. I have this space station. You’ve lost.”

  “Is it so simple, or did I already get what I wanted from here and am long gone?” He stepped forward to where a ray of light hit the floor from above, and in that moment he flickered out. He came back as he stepped again into the darkness. “Holograms. Don’t suppose those are big on Earth? No, from what I’ve learned of you, your people couldn’t even hold Earth together. You destroyed yourselves, and now you’re just prolonging your inevitable demise. It’s pitiful, really.”

  “But…the space station,” she protested. “It’s ours. Your forces… We got into the system, and they’re ours.”

  “That latter was an unfortunate setback. The station?” The hologram turned with its arms outspread and laughed. “This hunk of metal isn’t what I came for, as I assume you know, so why not use it as a lure to catch you and your friends? Why not destro
y you with your own hubris, hmm?”

  She took a step back. “You’re…bluffing.” Even as the words left her mouth, she knew they weren’t true. Fuck. She had to get out of there now!

  “Three…” he started, “two…”

  She turned and ran, leaping up the metal pole and using it to push off and grab the ledge opposite, and repeated those actions until she was at top, barely cognizant of him saying, “One” but unable to ignore the explosions that began a moment later.

  All she could think about as she sprinted for the edge of the deck, leaped out into open space, and used her thrusters to get away from the explosions was that Robin was out there, possibly flying too close to the station. She might be hit. She might die.

  How odd, she realized as the big one bloomed below her and the shock waves propelled her into a spiral, that she was busy worrying about her friend when she was in this predicament.

  Floating off into space alone without any hope of being saved was one of her new biggest fears, but bigger than that was her friendship for Robin. Her worry for the woman.

  And so it was that when the fighter plane pulled up next to her and Robin’s grin appeared in the cockpit behind her clear faceplate, Valerie breathed a sigh of relief. Not for her safety, but for her friend’s.

  “Need help?” Robin asked, opening the top and pulling her in while starting to accelerate away from the exploding space station.

  “There’s no room,” Valerie protested, still in a bit of a daze that this was happening but accepting it nonetheless.

  “Seeing as I’m not leaving you out here, we’ll have to make do.” Robin pulled Valerie into her lap so that the two were pressed against each other tightly, and then closed the top as she got out of there.

  “Fuck I’m glad to see you,” Valerie finally said as the other fighters joined them.

  “You did it!” Arlay’s voice came in over the comm. “I don’t know how, but you did it, Valerie!”

  Valerie stared into space, watching the distant stars as they headed back. She didn’t have the heart to tell them what had really happened, at least not right then. When they got back and regrouped, when they prepared to go after Talrok, then yes, but not right now.