“You are picking that stuff up pretty quickly,” Isaar said.
“It feels…natural. I don’t know why,” Rhylie responded, watching the surface of her skin change to a smooth, unblemished ivory. Her fingers became a featureless blob of iridescent white before coalescing back into her hand.
“I have heard when you lose one sense, it makes the others stronger. The same thing goes for losing an arm or a leg,” Isaar said. “I am sure if Reskle were here, he could tell us more.”
“That makes sense,” said Rhylie as she formed her fingers into long, slender blades. She clicked them together. “They’re paper thin, but harder than diamond,” she murmured, showing them off to Isaar. He frowned slightly.
“They make me uneasy,” he said uncomfortably.
“That’s ok,” she replied. “They make me uneasy too.” She smiled and her fingers snapped back to their original form. Her skin returned to a soft, olive tone. “So where are we?”
“Dead space,” said Isaar. “Nothing exists out here except dust and asteroids. Everything is frozen and dark.”
“I see. We had just begun exploring out here,” Rhylie said, looking out the cockpit window. At the speed they were traveling, there was nothing to see but emptiness.
“I know. That is what tipped off the Siirocians,” he said. She pursed her lips for a moment. “We are headed to the nearest known human outpost, although our information is dated. The Siirocians have begun attacking and wiping out human outposts one after the other, but they have yet to hit any large, colonized targets that we know of. They’re just taking out your early warning systems it seems.”
“Either way, they’re going to suspect something is not right when we show up,” she said.
“That is why it is just us two. I was not going to risk any more lives than I had to,” he said.
“I understand,” Rhylie said sighing. “You could have just sent me on alone.”
“I know I could have, but they might be more receptive and willing to believe what you have to say if they have a living, breathing alien standing beside you,” he said, half-grinning. “Besides, I wanted to make sure they treated you well.”
“Or they may just kill us both on sight,” she said darkly. “If they’ve been attacked recently, they’ll most likely be on high alert.” The thought of going home both frightened and exhilarated her. If she had a stomach, she was sure it would be full of butterflies. Still, she felt anxious and excited. Expect the worst, she thought, and you’ll never be disappointed.
“We will know soon,” Isaar said. “We will be there shortly, in fewer than 200 nanos.” Rhylie sighed, frustrated.
“I still don’t understand all of that stuff,” she said.
“I do not quite understand it myself,” he replied. “The veil just interprets it as best it can. Our understanding of the human language is limited. Mersi would be able to tell us more.”
“Doesn’t matter, I guess,” she said. “We’ll get there when we get there. And then it won’t matter anymore.”
“Hmmm,” Isaar said as he leaned forward to stare at the translucent console feed screen in front of him. “There is a small recon craft near here. It is a human ship, and they are unaware of our presence. Maybe it would be better if we contacted them first.”
“Maybe,” Rhylie said uneasily. “It’s probably an ARC-25.33, if it’s this far out. That means it’s armed and shielded.”
“Primitive weapons and shields,” he said “Nothing that can hurt us before they run out of firepower. I can disable their shields and weapons from here if I need to.”
“No,” she cautioned. “That’ll just freak them out and make them trigger happy.”
“I will trust your instincts on this,” Isaar said, inclining his head. “Should we contact them?” Rhylie thought for a moment.
“Sure, patch me through if you can,” she said. He reached up and touched a translucent screen. It dialed in automatically to the Arc-25.
“Hello? Identify yourselves,” a strange man’s voice came over the com channel.
“This is Private D Class Rhylie Ella Underhill of the Exploration Arm of the United Allied Forces,” she responded.
“Hold please,” the voice said. “Checking.”
“Of course,” said Rhylie. She waited a moment.
“Rhylie Ella Underhill, you are shown as MIA almost two years ago, is that correct?” the voice asked with disbelief.
“That is correct,” she responded.
“We’re going to need visual confirmation of that, Private,” the voice said. “Prepare to be boarded.”
“There’s…uh, not really room for that on this craft,” Rhylie said.
“I see. Then I will need you to come aboard our ship. Disarm yourselves if you’re carrying any weapons,” the voice said. He sounded like an asshole.
“I’ll do my best,” she quipped. She glanced at Isaar. “Let’s go,” she said.
“I have already set the trajectory,” he said. “We will be there in less than a nano.” Rhylie groaned and rolled her eyes.
The ship was an ARC-25, just as she’d thought. She directed Isaar to the entry port. The small craft synced its gravity well with the ARC’s and extended a narrow tube between the two ships.
“This craft was designed for landing bays and platforms,” Isaar said apologetically.
“It’s ok,” said Rhylie, gliding through the portal as the gravity well shut off. “I’ve been through worse.” Isaar grabbed her leg gently, and she turned to look at him.
“Rhylie…do not tell your people what you are capable of yet, until you know that they believe you and can accept it,” he said. She nodded her head in agreement.
“Isaar…thank you for everything,” she replied. “I really mean it.” He smiled back at her before following her through the tube.
19
Once aboard the ARC, they were greeted by two armed UAF soldiers, whose identification tags read Bartholomew Antonovich and Jessica Miller. They were both wearing standard recon-tech spectacles with a mouthpiece for communication. Probably recording everything, Rhylie thought. She hoped they didn’t turn the bio-sensors on. That caused her to suddenly realize that she hadn’t had her recon-specs with her when she had been awakened from cryostasis by the Siirocians. They hadn’t even bothered fabricating them. Where they were now? she wondered. Or does it even matter? Probably not.
Bart was older, and stocky with black hair and matching eyes with a crooked nose. Jessica was younger, but still older than Rhylie by a few years. She had cascading auburn hair and a light peppering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, with light green eyes. I love your hair. I wish I had some of my own, Vorcia’s voice whispered from somewhere in the back of Rhylie’s mind. She suppressed it, but the shaggy stubble on her own head prickled in response.
They both kept their distance from Rhylie and Isaar, staring at him in wide-eyed, open shock. Bart had an intense, almost crazy look to his eyes, and Jessica was paling beneath her freckles, as though she were looking at a ghost.
“I mean you no harm,” Isaar said, putting his hands up cautiously. His eyes grew wide and his brow furrowed. He looked at Rhylie with uncertainty. Jessica and Bart gave each other a quick glance, as if they were unsure which one was more unbelievable.
“I need to speak with the United Allied Council as soon as possible,” Rhylie said, trying to remain calm. She didn’t like the fact that both soldiers had their weapons trained on Isaar. She knew what those sub-rifles were capable of.
“Slow down,” said Jessica as she pulled a small, metallic device from her belt like the one Rhylie used to carry. “We just need to make sure that you’re telling us the truth. Let me see your hand.” Rhylie frowned.
“That’s…probably not going to work,” Rhylie said.
“Why not?” asked Bart. He looked at Rhylie strangely with his weird crazy-eyes. He had the remnants of a slight Russian accent.
“It just won’t,” she replied. “You’re going
to have to take a retinal scan.”
“What is really going on here?” Bart asked cautiously as he stepped between Rhylie and Jessica. “Who are you, really?” Rhylie frowned again.
“I am Private D Class Rhylie Ella Underhill of the Exploration Arm of the United Allied Force,” she said as frustration broke through. “I’ve been a prisoner of a race of beings called the Siirocians. They’re the ones that have been attacking our outposts and taking them out. This is Isaar,” she blurted out impatiently as she motioned towards him. “He rescued me from her…from them.” Bart looked uncertainly over his shoulder to Jessica. She nodded her head at him, and he stepped out of the way. Jessica then stepped forward, holding up the slender device to Rhylie’s right eye.
“It’s her,” Jessica said slowly, her eyes widening as she stepped back. “Unbelievable.” Bart frowned darkly.
“Welcome back, Private Underhill,” he said with uncertainty. “You are somewhat of a celebrity now.”
“What do you mean?” Rhylie asked as she cocked her head curiously to the side.
“Everyone followed the trial,” Bart said. “After you disappeared. It was pretty big news.”
“What trial?” asked Rhylie. She didn’t like this at all. Why would there be a trial?
“The trial of your former crew,” Bart said. “Accused of raping and murdering you and disposing of your body.” Rhylie’s mouth opened in shock. She didn’t know what to say. At least they had lowered their guns, and were no longer pointing them at Isaar.
“But that wasn’t what happened…” she said, trailing off. Her face went numb.
“They were all acquitted eventually,” Jessica said softly. “But they were discharged and stripped of their benefits.”
“I told you they were innocent,” chided Bart. “But you and everyone else wanted them to pay for what you thought they might have done.”
Rhylie felt horrible, and in a way, guilty. It seemed that everywhere she went, entropy and decay followed in her wake. Sora’s words drifted to her once again. Wounds that will not heal.
“We do not have time for this,” Isaar said, interrupting Bart. “We must warn-”
“We have time for this,” Bart said, cutting him off. “You just hold tight there, buddy.” Isaar regarded him with an intense questioning look of his own.
“What we don’t have time for is you two boys to hold a dick waving contest,” Rhylie said, snapping out of her shock. She could worry about Mason and Ian and Sergeant Bryson later. She was quickly growing tired of Bart. “Jessica, we really do need to speak with the Council. There is a war coming, and we have to warn everyone.”
“We do not have much time before the first major assault is rolled out,” said Isaar. “The future of the human race depends on a rapid response and widespread preparations. You may even need to evacuate your home system, in a worst case scenario.”
“Let me contact base,” Jessica said. She pressed a small dot on her lapel.
“This is Captain Ramirez at Outpost Beta V-9. Over,” came the response from her lapel.
“This is Jessica Miller aboard ARC-25 Beta V-9. Over,” Jessica responded.
“What’s your situation, Jess?” Ramirez asked.
“We need clearance to return to base,” she said.
“So you’re sure that it’s really her?” asked Ramirez.
“Yes, sir,” Jessica responded. “To the best of my ability.”
“Holy fuck that’s crazy!” Ramirez exclaimed. “Your return is authorized. See you here.”
*
The trip to the outpost was a short, quiet one. Rhylie had expected some sort of interrogation from Jessica and Bart, but strangely there was none. They didn’t seem to want to answer any of her questions either.
The outpost itself was small, built into the center of a hollowed out asteroid. It probably couldn’t outfit and sustain more than a crew of eight. Rhylie tried to remember where Beta V-9 was, but could not. It must be a new Outpost, she thought.
They were taken into a round room with high ceilings that had several compact corridors leading off in various directions. The construction looked pretty fresh, and everything in the room looked as though it were brand new, even though it had a military-industrial feel to it. It was a common area that served as a mess hall, meeting room, and recreational center. In one corner was a cluster of simulation booths. The sight of them made Rhylie both nostalgic and sad.
Gathered around the round table in the middle of the central room were three other soldiers. The short one with brown skin and intense eyes she took for Ramirez, due to the decorations on his uniform. The other two were a short woman of Asian descent and a pale white guy with red hair and freckles. He looked young, as though he were about the same age as her when she had signed up. All of them were wearing their recon specs. There were fixed seats encircling the table, but nobody was sitting down. They all seemed to be on high alert.
All three of them looked at Isaar like the boogeyman himself had come to life. Rhylie struggled to keep her anger in check. She was already growing tired of their reactions towards him.
“He rescued me,” she said sternly. “He brought me here to warn you about the coming war.” Ramirez turned his attention to Rhylie.
“Rescued you from what?” he asked.
“I don’t know how-” she began before she sighed with frustration. “It’s complicated. And a long story, and we don’t have time for that now.”
“We’ve got all the time in the world, little girl,” Bart said from behind her. Rhylie clenched her jaw, suppressing her anger. She wanted to shut him up permanently.
“Just calm down, Private,” said Ramirez. “Everyone on this outpost outranks you, even the greenie over there.” He nodded his head towards the red-headed kid.
“Something’s not right with her, Ramirez,” Bart said from behind her. “She told us that a fingerprint bioscan wouldn’t work.”
“I was listening,” Ramirez responded. Rhylie’s face flushed with frustration.
“Please just let us-” she began.
“Something ISN’T right here,” said the short woman, cutting them all off.
“What is it, Meili?” Ramirez asked.
“I can’t scan her body,” Meili said, confused as she looked down at the device in her hand. “Only her head is showing up on my bio-scanner.” She turned to the red headed man. “Adam’s biometrics show up fine.” Her face darkened as she turned back to Rhylie. “Private Underhill doesn’t even have a heartbeat…” she trailed off, her eyes widening in horror. Suddenly everyone’s weapons were drawn and pointed at Rhylie. She put her hands up defensively.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down. Everything is going to be okay,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
“I knew something was wrong,” Bart spat out. “I fuckin’ knew it. We should have toasted their asses.”
“Quiet, Bart,” said Ramirez coolly. “Private, why can’t she scan your body?” He articulated the question carefully, as though struggling to maintain his composure. Rhylie frowned deeply, and clenched her right hand in frustration.
“I don’t have time to explain,” she implored. She felt something prod the back of her head.
“I told you,” said Bart. “We’ve got all the time there is.” Rhylie clenched her jaw, anger blazing in her eyes. She was getting close to her breaking point. Ramirez, Meili, and Adam all took a step back from her.
“Just let me talk to the Council,” she said. “I’ll be more than happy to answer everyone’s questions after that.”
“I can’t let you do that, Private,” Ramirez said slowly. “I have to believe that you’ve been compromised. I don’t know what you are, or where you came from, but until we get this all sorted out, you’re going to a holding chamber.”
The word threw Rhylie into a rage. She spun, her left arm arcing out into a formless lash, slapping Bart across the face hard and jarring his head. A small jet of blood and saliva trailed after it. Her arm withdrew a
nd reformed into a hand; her uniform disappeared, all detail and color vanishing. She was standing before them exposed, her body a dull, metallic hue. She turned to face Jessica.
Rhylie’s skin oscillated and pulsated with rage, as though wind were buffeting still-water before a storm. The edges of her eyesight blurred and she could see blood pumping through her vision. Jessica just stood there, staring at Rhylie in wide-eyed horror, her mouth working soundlessly. Isaar was screaming something at her, but she couldn’t hear it over the blood coursing in her ears. She felt shots fired at her back and spun to face the other three.
Meili was nowhere to be seen, but Ramirez and Adam had their sub-rifles wide open, firing bursts at her torso. The shots were harmlessly absorbed by her new flesh. She covered her face instinctively with an atomorphic membrane, enveloping herself fully in a dull gray metallic skin. There was nothing human about her appearance any longer.
She whipped her right arm out at Adam, slapping him backwards with a long, thick tendril. The blow sent him into the wall and he slumped to the floor, struggling to regain the breath that had been knocked from his lungs. She then flicked her arm lazily towards Ramirez, wrapping it around his throat. He dropped his gun, his hands going to grasp at the tentacle around his throat. She lifted him up off of the floor and began squeezing slowly, constricting his neck and cutting off his air.
“Nobody is going to put me back into the Chamber,” she hissed menacingly. It was strangely quiet in the room. Ramirez was unable to respond, his face growing purple as she slowly strangled him. He choked and sputtered as he struggled to breathe, staring at Rhylie desperately.
“Rhylie, please!” Isaar screamed from behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder at him.
He was kneeling on the floor, blood just beginning to pool beside him. The left leg of his pants glistened wetly, and Jessica had her handgun pointed directly at the back of his head. Rhylie loosened her grip on Ramirez, and he fell to the floor, gasping desperately for air. Bart was just now picking himself up.
“Don’t make me do this, Private,” Jessica said softly. Rhylie quickly uncovered her face.
Nascent Decay (The Goddess of Decay Book 1) Page 13