by Kyle, Celia
“All right, everyone back to the ship, double time.”
Falling in behind Solair, my heart hammering in my chest, I can only hope we make it in time.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Grantian
On our way down the ramp, I move past Zander and Solair, taking the point position. I’m determined to build hard walls between any danger and Lamira, even if those walls are built of my own flesh and blood.
So far, there’s been no signs of any resistance, but alarms are designed to attract attention—and usually not the friendly type.
The ramp winds ever inward, our circuits growing shorter. When the passage flares out onto the first processing level, I move to the wall and keep my back flush against the surface. Peering out around the corner, I spot more than two dozen hulking shapes looming in the darkness—right between us and the exit.
My first instinct is that they’re Odex, given the size and generally simian stance, but if they are, what are they doing in an IHC facility? Relations between the Ataxian Coalition and the Interstellar Human Conglomerate are in a state of war, given the horrible things that have happened at Horus IV, Armstrong, and half dozen other worlds. They could be mercenaries, but I haven’t heard of any such units operating all the way out here.
Solair moves in close and speaks in a low tone, since a whisper can carry much further than people often think.
“What do you see?”
“I don’t know, exactly. There’s around twenty of them, but it’s too dark to get a good look.”
“Here.” Solair hands me a pair of low-light goggles, which I hastily hold up to my eyes before I take another peek. With the aid of the device, I’m able to make out much more detail.
My mouth gapes open in shock because these twisted abominations are not Odex. At least, not entirely. They have the size, general broad shoulders and long upper limbs typical of that sapient species, but rather than fur their bodies are covered in misshapen lumps of some form of chitinous, ridged armor. And their eyes are different, a rich golden hue much akin to Vakutans.
Then it hits me. These creatures are something in between the two sapients. Whatever was going on here, it was not limited to abducted human women. I feel a swell of pity for the poor creatures, as all of them appear to be hindered and agonized by their half-formed bodies. One of them has to drag a misshapen club foot behind itself, another’s head is so large its neck can barely hold it up.
Meanwhile, some have such disfigured faces they labor for every breath, and peer out of tiny apertures that pass for their eyelids. So, these are not successful experiments. And if they are, I’d hate to see the failures.
“You’re not saying much, Grantian.”
I turn my grim gaze upon Solair and hand him back his goggles. “That’s because what I see is difficult to describe. We are vastly outnumbered, but they lack firearms.”
“I don’t like it. Even if we take up defensive positions, they might manage to get past us.”
He looks back at Varia, Lamira, and Fiona for a brief moment, and I nod.
“Perhaps you should search for an alternative way out of here, while Zander and I engage and distract the creatures.”
We retreat back up the ramp, except for Zander who remains on lookout. Solair explains his plan to the women, and though Varia doesn’t like staying out of the fighting she doesn’t press the point. She’s a capable warrior, but Odex and Vakutan are some of the toughest creatures in the galaxy. I can’t imagine what combining them would create, deformed or not.
I want to shoot first and ask questions later, but Solair insists that we try to negotiate our way past the creatures instead. “They may not be hostile, you know. If we can get out of here without a fight, I’m all for it.”
“I am as well, but we’ll be forfeiting the element of surprise.”
“That’s true. Why don’t you attempt communication with them while Zander remains under cover?”
“Offer one hand but arm the other.” I shake my head and chuckle. “Ironic, considering that’s an Odex proverb.”
“Let’s do this. I’m afraid that those hybrids aren’t the only thing the alarm might bring down on our heads.”
Solair moves off up the ramp to search for another way out while Fiona, Varia, and my mate remain a short distance away from the bottom level. Zander takes his position, and I sigh before stepping out into the open and approaching the hybrids, my hands held up at shoulder height and my palms open.
“Greetings.”
I think they smell me before they hear me, but then two dozen pairs of agonized gazes focus on me. They start growling, some snapping their twisted jaws, but they don’t move in for the attack. I notice their eyes are calculating as they stare at the weapon at my belt. So, they’re not completely without intelligence.
I take a few more steps forward, hoping they don’t get spooked and charge in like cornered animals.
“Can you speak? My name is Grantian. I’m here in peace.”
My words seem to confuse the creatures, but I can’t tell if it’s because they don’t understand Galactic Standard or if they don’t know what to make of my message. Heads tilt, glances are exchanged, and they ever so subtly relax.
That’s good because it means they’re starting to accept the idea I might not be a threat. This doesn’t mean they want to be my friend, just that I’m less likely to trigger their fear responses.
“Ah, how long have you been here? Do you require food, or…” I swallow hard, wounded by the pathos of their miserable existence, “…medical assistance?”
Bad move. Turns out they understand me after all because when I say the word “medical” they grow agitated. One of them even overturns a heavy crate and sends it crashing to the floor.
“I mean you no harm.” I struggle to fight the urge to step back from their imposing presence. While I don’t want to appear as a threat, neither do I want to trigger their prey response.
They slowly relax once more, and I struggle to come up with the right words. What can I say to convince them to let us pass?
“Look, my friends and I just want to leave. That’s all. We’ll leave you in peace if you want.”
One of the creatures suddenly lumbers forward, supporting its weight as much on its knuckles as its feet. Its twisted nostrils flare as it tests the air, and then its teeth bare in a fierce snarl.
“Hoo-mans.”
The rest of them suddenly surge forward like a snarling, snapping tide, and I quickly draw my rifle. I drop two and then three of the creatures before they even get close, but then they’re swarming all over me. My gun gets knocked out of my grasp, flying who knows where.
The class-three hard armor vest saves me from being eviscerated by their claws and teeth, but they manage to score blows on the chinks in between the plates. I’m bleeding from half a dozen wounds before I manage to clear myself of the melee.
My heart sinks when I see that many of them have made it to the foot of the ramp. Both Varia and Zander blaze away at them with fury, piling up the bodies on what amounts to our front line, but a surprisingly nimble creature vaults over them and lands right next to Lamira.
I scream her name, my legs pumping like engine pistons as I struggle to close the gap. I know I’ll never make it in time.
The monster smacks Lamira’s pistol out of her hand and she cries out in pain, clutching her wrist. It scoops her up and throws her slight form over its ridged shoulder and then turns and rushes toward the wall—only to have a hidden door slide to the side and allow him to move deeper inside the building.
Howling with rage, I smash the skull of a hybrid foolish enough to attempt barring my path before shoving past my armed allies. The door remains open, revealing a long corridor leading below ground.
I have just enough presence of mind to rearm myself. I reach into Zander’s bulky pack and withdraw the Predator minigun, an overpowered monstrosity of Vakutan manufacture.
“Grantian, wait for us, you fool.”
But I don’t listen to Zander. I plunge down the sloping grade, determined to get my jalshagar back no matter the cost.
Chapter Thirty
Lamira
I passed out for a moment when the misshapen monster scooped me onto its lumpy, ridged shoulder.
Okay, okay—I fainted. Let’s see how tough anyone is when a Vakutan-Odex hybrid snatches them in its claws.
But I awakened shortly after to find the two of us loping down a gentle grade, penetrating deep beneath the moon’s surface. Curiously, there’s light down here. Every ten yards or so a glowing panel provides a clear view of our path.
I’m afraid to struggle against this creature’s fearsome grip for several reasons. One, I don’t think I have a hope of breaking loose against its incredible strength. Two, I don’t want to make it angrier than it already is.
And finally, I want to see where it’s taking me. It could have killed me easily, but instead it chose an abduction. Clearly there’s a purpose in its actions other than the random motions of a brutish animal.
I’d heard Grantian speaking to them, but I’d only made out one word in reply: humans. For whatever reason, that was the catalyst for them to attack.
Eventually the grade evens out to a flat floor, and the creature slows its pace. I can hear a distinct rattle each time it breathes, and even though it was quite the jumper, walking seems to cause it pain.
I feel a great swell of pity for this monster, created by twisted science for an even more twisted purpose. Whoever is behind this facility, their crimes against nature go well beyond the abduction of innocent and not-so-innocent Frontier women.
As we continue down the long corridor, we pass by more of the blue doors we saw on the surface. The creature eschews them all but one, a set of double blast doors that interlock both physically and magnetically.
The hybrid sets me down on my feet and then looms over me with its teeth bared until I sink to the floor. It gives me one last look, as if to say, “Don’t you dare move,” and then places its bubbled and twisted paw upon the comms console attached to the door.
“It is Sloth. Open.”
A deep hiss and then the doors slide apart, revealing a vast chamber filled with sacks of livestock feed stacked halfway to the ceiling. They form a rough half-circle around the perimeter of the room, but that’s not the only thing present. A veritable horde of the misshapen hybrids crouch in the half-light, growing angry and agitated when Sloth drags me into the room by my wrist.
“Hooman.”
“Kill it.”
“Eat it.”
“No. Hoomans not worth eat. Meat to waste.”
I shiver in terror as they take up the cry, echoing throughout the large chamber. As the doors slam shut behind us, I feel like it’s my funeral dirge.
“Meat to waste. Meat to waste. Meat to waste.”
“No, please.” I look up at Sloth. “I beg you, don’t kill me. I’m not here to harm any of you. Maybe I can help you—”
Sloth snarls and shoves me roughly to the floor. The wind rushes out of my lungs as my back hits hard, and then it gets even harder to breathe when Sloth plants his massive foot on my belly.
“We no want hooman help. Hoomans lie.”
The cry gets taken up by his fellows.
“Hoomans lie. Hoomans lie. Hoomans lie.”
Sloth looks up at his fellow hybrids, his face twisted even more in a sneer.
“Humans hurt.”
“Not this human, please listen to me.”
But they don’t listen. They just continue to chant with a symmetry that belies their deformity.
“Hoomans hurt. Hoomans hurt. Hoomans hurt.”
Sloth grabs me by the front of my vest and drags me into the air, lifting me bodily until my feet dangle several feet off the floor.
“And most of all—humans kill.”
“Hoomans kill. Hoomans kill. Hoomans kill.”
“I’m not here to kill anyone.”
“Lies.” Sloth gives me a violent shake. “All lies.”
“No, it’s the truth. Sloth is your name. Isn’t it?”
“Bah.” He sneers. “Hoomans call me that. All I know.”
“I don’t want to hurt any of you, Sloth. I—my friends and I only came here seeking information, nothing more.”
“You lie.” Sloth throws me onto the floor so hard I slide all the way across its metal surface until I slam against the far wall. Rubbing my aching head, I cringe as they all close in around me.
“You lie. You lie. You lie.”
“We know you, human. We not stupid. You hurt us. You kill us. You lie to us.”
I look up at Sloth and swallow hard before I can speak. “I’m not here to do any of that.”
“Bah. Then why you not leave with other women?”
The creatures all bob their heads in assent, clustering about me. I can smell their fetid breath and the stench of sickness. Many of them clearly have one foot in the grave already. I can’t blame them for being filled with hate for my kind after what’s been done to them.
“Other women?” They might know what happened here. “Please, tell me, what other women?”
“Other hooman women. Some asleep. With evil hooman doctors.”
“They’re here?”
“Liars. Killers.”
“Where did they go?”
“They leave on the big ship. Leave us.”
“You’re alone?” I ask, my heart going to the beasts. “My friends can help you.”
Sloth slams his fist into the wall mere inches above my head, causing me to cry out and cower.
“No. You hooman. We no trust hooman.”
“No trust hooman. No trust hooman. No trust hooman.”
Sloth growls and picks me up painfully by my hair, thrusting my body forth toward the encroaching horde of monstrosities.
“What we do with her? What?”
“Break her bones.”
“Cut her throat.”
“Meat to waste.”
“Choke her with dry, tasteless food.”
“Rip out her lying tongue.”
“Meat to waste.”
“Feed to Big Maw.”
The horde falls silent for a moment, and then they take up the chant.
“Big Maw. Big Maw. Big Maw.”
Two of the brutes each grab my arms and force me to my knees. The throng parts to allow the passage of a very short hybrid. No, not short, I see as he draws nearer. Its legs are shriveled, useless things that drag behind it as it uses its thickly muscled arms for locomotion. But what horrifies me the most is its head. No neck, it’s just as if the head were melted and spread out across the thing’s shoulders.
When it opens its three-foot-wide mouth, its cavernous maw gapes open so widely I can see the lining of its stomach, with the ribcage jutting in at odd angles. How is this creature even able to draw breath with such a twisted body?
“Big Maw bite off head, hooman.”
Sloth’s words trigger my fear response and despite the sheer futility of it all I begin thrashing in the hybrid’s grip. The Big Maw drags itself closer with tiny, pig-like eyes on either side of its mouth filled with equal parts rage and anguish.
I whimper as my head is enveloped in its wide-open jaws, the light growing dimmer within its confines. The fetid, rotten breath rolling out of its throat makes me gag and vomit, but Big Maw doesn’t even seem to notice.
Then a sound akin to a high-pitched shriek reaches my ears, and Big Maw withdraws enough that my head is no longer inside of his mouth. The hybrids release me, all of them backing away from the blast doors.
As I watch, a red line spreads horizontally across both interlocked doors. My heart hammers in my chest, and I nearly faint with relief.
The cavalry has arrived.
Chapter Thirty-One
Grantian
Kilgari eyes are bit more sensitive to the lower spectrum than human, so I’m easily able to glean that the hybrid has imprisoned Lamira beh
ind those giant, interlocking blast doors. The residual body heat the creature left with its bare feet glows a bit more brightly to my sensitive gaze.
What’s less obvious is how in the name of the Precursors am I going to get through this barrier?
These are Durzacorp blast panels, two feet thick and designed to resist any but the most powerful of artillery strikes. They’re also notoriously difficult to hack. I’m sure the genius Fiona could make them open, but she’s not here. Hopefully Solair guided the rest to safety.
That leaves it up to me, but I’m no slicer. My talents lie in other arenas. I heft the Predator chain gun, which fires caseless rounds at the speed of sound. This will cut through given time and a very steady hand.
I angle my barrel upward, reasoning that if my mate is inside the room, any stray shots will go over her head. Then I spread my legs out wide, brace my back against the far wall, and depress the trigger.
Slowly, I grind a red line across the twin blast doors. The vibration in my arms soon has them numbing up, and it’s a strain to keep the gun steady. I think I start shouting about halfway through the line, my rage mingling with the repeated cough of the mini gun.
At last, I carve my way to the other side and none too soon. The Predator’s barrel glows red hot, and pressing the trigger only results in a metallic click as I’m out of ammo.
I give the doors one firm kick below the line and the bottom halves fall inward. Instantly my eyes take in the peril Lamira is in. She’s being held on her knees between two burly hybrids while a third monstrosity—I can’t even take in how horrific its disfigurement truly is—has its grotesquely enlarged maw poised to bite her head clean off.
The chain gun thumps heavily to the floor as I adopt a three-point stance and then charge headfirst into the room. Dozens of the monsters gape in astonishment as I wade right through their number until my horns impale one of the hybrids holding my mate’s arm fast.
I stand up to my full height and jerk my head and shoulders to the side, sending his twitching corpse flying across the room and crashing into several of his fellows. They fall prone. Without slowing down I snatch Lamira up and shove her behind me out of the open doors before taking up a position in the now cut open portal. If they want to get to my mate, they’re going to have to go through me first.