“Let’s talk about it.” She sat down beside him in a fold out chair. Michael closed his eyes, listening to the sound of a diesel and solar hybrid engine roaring around the corner.
“Wait. You hear that?” he asked.
“Ah, yeah, who is it?” Vala narrowed her eyes.
“Did you order anything? It’s a delivery. A truck is pulling up.” Michael peered through the window.
“Yeah, clothes,” she said.
“I’ll answer the door, test it out.” Michael pointed to his face. He stormed toward the door in his long, dark tan coat.
“Before we have a chance to look at it?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Why not? This is the best way to find out.” He pulled his hood over his head that Vala had stitched on for him, “I wanna see how he reacts.”
Vala pinched the top of her nose and sighed, dropping her head. “Okay, yeah, go ahead.”
He peered through the peep hole and noticed a stocky male exiting the truck. “He’s coming up,” Michael whispered.
The driver shimmied up the steps and knocked. He backed away and leaned against the porch handrail, waiting. Michael assessed the driver’s vitals with his integrated seismic heart rate detector, touching the doorframe attached to the porch railing, prying for the faintest frequency of the human heart. He closed his eyes, blocking out Vala’s heart rate and all the other ambience. Da-dup—da-dup—da-dup.
“There.” Michael found it. His fingertips detected the even-paced beat, relaying data to his onboard systems that revealed additional information based on the cadence:
HEART RATE – 58 BPM – NORMAL
STRESS LEVEL – MODERATE
The vitals were normal for a man on the job. Michael cracked the door, exposing part of his face to survey the area behind the driver, but the carrier jumped back at the sight of Michael.
“The hell?” The driver yelled, observing Michael’s unusual face as he gripped the handrail again.
HEART RATE – 87 BPM -- ELEVATED
STRESS LEVEL – PANICKED
Michael let a sigh and dipped his head. “Do I have to sign for the package?”
“No, no, just…take it, man. Here. S-sorry it’s late.” The driver held the package out at the end of his reach, and Michael snatched it away with lightning speed. The driver slowly backed down the steps, showing his palms.
“Thanks, thanks a lot,” Michael said, shutting the door. He let his free arm swing freely as he stared at the floor.
“Hey,” Vala said softly. She stepped toward him, stroking his metallic shoulder.
Michael stared down at the postage on the package. Carmen Mattus.
“Here ya go, Carmen. Feels like clothes.” Michael shook the bag, handing it over.
“Thanks. I’m running out of aliases. I was never good with names to begin with,” Vala said. She noticed Michael staring at her.
“I scared the hell out of him, didn’t I?” he asked.
“Mike, we live in a bad part of town. He probably gets spooked easily.”
“Oh, is that what it is?” Michael marched into the bathroom, turning on the light. He gazed into the mirror as the dramatic overhead light cast down on him. He peered in, touching the fake skin on his cheek and brow. “Shit.”
He sighed loudly, dropped his head, staring at himself. “Oh well, yeah, this skin looks even worse, Val. My head looks like a orange, and the texture looks unnatural.”
“You don’t think it looks any better?” she asked from the living room. Michael tilted his head, observing the layers of rubbery skin placed over his metallic skull. He slowly shook his head and began to tear into the fake skin, ripping it off his face and throwing it against the mirror.
“Mike!” Vala yelled stepping inside. She stopped, noticing the clumps of fake skin littered about the floor.
“Looks better now.” Michael had his arms braced over the sink, leaning forward. He tapped the sink, clanking his metallic fingers against the stainless steel through his bandages.
He retained most of the appearance of Saven, but a stripped-down version without the metallic wings. He was using specialized makeup and skin to cover his metallic-fused exoskeleton. Sometimes, he wore a medical mask that covered his mouth along with a hoodie.
Michael’s eyes were glass, placed over his optics. For the last seven years, the majority of his rejuvenation process had been centered around returning his mind to form.
Vala walked behind him, putting her hand on his neck. “You know, when you told me you wanted to be an Army Ranger, I remember thinking how dangerous it could be. Do you recall how scared I was?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
“There was already a war going on, Mike, but I decided then, if you were maimed, whether it was a fire, lost all your limbs, both, whatever, you were who I chose to be with.” She leaned around, staring him in the eyes.
“I know that, I do. The problem, it’s just the more my mind has returned, the more this comes into play. Those things creep back in. I’d like to be able to take you for a coffee, something to eat, just simple stuff. Neither of us love the city life, but if we’re gonna be this close for these operations, I know you’d like to do things together, even down the road we can make public appearances in a small town.”
Vala sighed loudly, narrowing her eyes a thousand miles away. She was an expert Cilan, controlling her abilities at will. She could alter the color of her eyes, hair, and skin to appear a different race or age. There was one caveat: her emotions were tied to her abilities, especially in regard to Michael. He noticed his words emotionally drained her, physically altering her appearance drastically as she wilted two decades in a matter of seconds.
Her skin began to sag and wrinkle around on her face. Her hair began to gray as her eyes glossed over.
“Hey, no-no-no,” Michael said, staring up at her in the mirror.
“It just, h-hurts me to hear t-that, Mike. It just kills me.” She sniffled. He put both arms around her, holding her tight, “I’m fine, Val, just… I’m venting, talking out loud.” She rested her head on his chest.
“Have I ever made you feel less?” She glared up at him.
“What? No. Absolutely not. You build me up. I need to keep things in perspective. We’re both lucky to be alive, much less together,” he said. After embracing her for a few minutes, her age slowly receded back to a young, vibrant, early thirties woman. Michael combed through her gray hairs as they turned back to dirty blonde.
Suddenly, the phone rang. “I better get that,” Michael said.
“No-no, I will.”
“Hello,” Vala said.
“Carmen, it’s—”
“Keith?”
“Yeah.”
“Haven’t heard from you in months. Don’t worry about the fake names, I have this line secured now,” Vala said.
“Good. Ah, listen, Vala, Lucas just showed up here a few hours ago. I hate to just throw this on you two, but we need to talk. There’s a big problem,” Keith explained.
“With what?” She gulped.
“It’s complicated. I want you and Michael to have a serious talk. It’s not a sure thing yet, but he wanted me to ask you about a Star Rust mission—”
“Whoa. Star Rust? Are you out of your mind, Keith?” she yelled. Michael rushed over to the phone.
“Mike, Lucas wants me—”
“I heard.” Michael pierced the phone with his ghoulish eyes.
“Vala, listen to me, I’m not finished,” Keith said.
“Let me have the phone,” Michael said. She handed it over. Michael glanced at the ceiling. “Keith.”
“Hey, Mike. I’m sorry that came out the wrong way. Sorry to have upset her.”
“Keith, just please tell me you’re not asking us to get involved with any of that again. We’ve moved on.” Michael panned around.
“I know, and believe me, I would never say anything unless it was a special circumstance. Can you put me on speaker?” Keith asked.
&nbs
p; Vala’s pupils glided across the holographic interface ‘speaker on.’ “We can both hear you now,” she said.
“I’m not going into a lot of details here because it’s not a sure thing, but Lucas revealed something very alarming earlier. The craft that exploded years ago, the origin of the Star Rust war, well, one of them is here on Earth, and its demanding he hand over an artifact. The problem is, Lucas doesn’t have it, the government confiscated it.”
Vala’s mouth dropped as they turned toward one another. “Here?” she mouthed.
“Um. That’s kinda terrifying,” Vala said, glancing out at the stars for a moment.
She snapped her head back at the phone. “Wait, you want me to steal it back? That’s why you’re calling.” Vala put her hand on her hip.
“Lucas wanted me to ask. It’s not me. I would rather you not be involved, ever, but there is a good reason behind the request,” Keith said.
“No,” Michael said, turning his back and stepping across the room.
“There’s no way. Can’t believe you’re even coming at us with this,” she said.
“Again, I’m just the relaying the message, but if Lucas can’t convince the government to hand that artifact over to this, alien, it promised that humanity will pay dearly. Apparently, Lucas was pretty shook up over it.”
“We’ve got our own problems,” Michael said.
“There has to be someone else that can do it.” Vala rolled her eyes.
“Lucas knows plenty of intelligence people, special forces, spies, but the problem is time. We don’t have time to build relationships, come up with fake identities. He needs someone who can go and steal it without any casualties. Now. A Cilan was his first choice,” Keith said.
“Well, you’ll have to tell him to find another one,” she replied.
“I will.”
“I did a lot of double-crossing to find Michael all those years ago, and we’ve got a slew of dangerous people breathing down our necks. And now they want what’s left of Michael’s body for payment, the alien materials.” Vala stepped toward the window, glancing back at Michael.
“You hear something?” he whispered. She covered the speaker on her phone as Michael shot over to the window, scanning the parking lot.
“I had no idea you two were dealing with that,” Keith said, his voice muffled by her hand.
“Yeah, we’re not exactly sure who is tracing us, but the alien materials in Michael’s body are incredibly valuable.” Keith must have understood there was no removing them either, they were infused into what little flesh and bone remained in Michael, even his skull.
“Look, I’m sorry. I hate to have asked, but I’m just forwarding the message because of its importance. I’ll be in—”
Michael tackled Vala as gunfire riddled the window, shattering the glass and filling the room with lead. He sprawled over her, using his metallic frame to shield her. Car alarms and screams echoed off the mirrored row of apartment buildings.
“Are you hit?” Michael asked.
“No.” She panted.
“Vala? Michael?” Keith yelled as she shut off her phone.
“Don’t move.” Michael said. His advanced audio detection cued in on voices outside their low-income flat.
“Mercs. Sounds like t-twelve, maybe fourteen. Two at the bottom of the steps, the rest in the parking lot. A mix of projectile and laser weaponry,” Michael said. Beneath him, he could feel Vala’s superhuman adrenaline pulsing through her body, like a stalking lion waiting to explode from the brush.
“I know. Let me at `em,” she whispered.
“They’re coming up.” He pointed at the stairwell outside.
Footsteps creaked on the steps. Micheal rolled off Vala, pointing outside. “Two coming up.” He signaled, keeping his voice low enough that only a Cilan could detect it. He slithered under the window, creeping low as Vala reached into her nightstand. She snatched out her submachinegun and ducked behind the bed, exposing just enough of her weapon that was trained on the window. Michael unraveled a bandage around his left arm, revealing his wrist mounted plasma saber sheath.
Michael sensed them sneaking close to the window he was under. His index finger followed their approach as they tiptoed along the wall, giving Vala the option to shoot through the sheetrock. As they closed, the point man’s rifle barrel poked through the broken glass, but his body was still behind the frame.
“You hear anything?” one of them asked. Michael yanked the gun’s barrel, pulling the man out of cover as he fired off several rounds. Michael tugged the merc into view, and Vala filled his chest with five rounds.
Blood spilled over into the room, followed by the body, falling atop Michael.
The second merc unloaded an automatic shotgun aimlessly into the room, tearing through the sheetrock, but the audio cue from the weapon gave Michael a precise location beacon.
“Mike!” Vala yelled. He unleashed his half-meter green plasma blade. It shot out of his wrist like a flamethrower at first, but it quickly conformed to an almost solid, daggered shape.
He stood up, squatting under the merc’s corpse and using it like a shield as slugs pelted the carcass. He barreled toward the sound, tossing the body aside and thrusting his plasma blade through the wall. The gunfire instantly ceased, followed by a gurgling sound, then three thuds as his body tumbled down the steps. Michael retracted the blade as it gave off an electric suction sound, vanishing into its sheath.
“Watch the door.” Michael pressed against the wall, plunging his fingers through the sheetrock. He began hacking through the ceiling. Debris fell through, scattering smoke and wood about the room. “We’ve got maybe a minute before they send more.” He climbed into the attic.
“I know.” Vala scrambled into the closet, handing up a XJ5 long gun. “I know you don’t like energy rifles,” she said.
“I don’t like us being shot at either,” he said. She effortlessly leaped up into the attic, landing like a cat beside him. “You okay?” he asked.
“You’re the one that’s hit,” she said, observing a blackened scar on his metallic shoulder.
“It glanced right off, I’m good,” he said. They hurried across the attic, squeezing through the beams. “They’re this way. We’ll flank out behind them.”
“Got it,” Vala replied. Michael stopped, cutting through the roof on the opposite side of the attackers. Michael peeked through, then clambered out on top of the roof. He eased over the ridge of the roof as Vala trailed behind him.
“Authorities should be here within five minutes. We can send a message or run?”
Michael sloped his laser rifle’s bipod over the roof, staring down his scope at the targets.
“So much for running,” she whispered, staring at them with their backs turned. Five of them huddled between two Mercedes, donning full body armor, preparing for another breach. They seemed to be planning their attack while others had their guns drawn on their apartment.
“They’ll keep coming back, Mike,” she said.
Michael dipped his head for a moment and sighed, rising up. “I know.”
“Use caution with shot placement. We have civilians around, but you have five targets standing together and seven more littered around the cars. See `em?” She pointed.
“Yeah.”
“Are we doing this?” she asked.
“There’s a lot of things I don’t want to do.” He scoped down the barrel of his rifle, unleashing several volleys in quick succession, dropping eight of them before they even knew where Michael was.
“Whoa.” Vala’s mouth dropped. The energy flashes scorched through them, striking their central nervous system and planking them like boards. One of them crumpled over like the wind had been knocked out of him. He held his chest as Michael followed up with a headshot. The remaining attackers scurried out of Michael’s line of sight.
“I’ll finish off the rest of them,” Vala said, raising up to deliver the final blow.
“No, no.”
�
��What?” Vala put on the brakes, her black boots skidded across the rooftop shingles.
“Leave `em, Val. Just, leave a f-few alive. They’re running in fear, anyway,” he said.
She turned toward him as the moonlight shadowed her face in silhouette, revealing a set of red eyes. “We’ve got `em on the run, Mike. I don’t wanna do this either, but let’s finish it. I’m sick of worrying about it every time we settle in. Relentless.”
“We’ve killed enough of them. Let `em go back and tell the others. Fear is our weapon.” Michael retracted his rifle.
“That doesn’t send the message. We’re letting them run and that—”
“It does! That’s enough!” Michael roared, his fiery green eyes ignited like two flames splashed with gasoline.
Vala leaned back. “Alright, fine, we let `em go.”
Michael stood, turning his back to Vala as he walked to the opposite side of the roof. She approached beside him, grabbing his hand. “I shouldn’t have pushed it.”
“It’s fine. Come on.”
They both jumped off the back side of the two-story roof, landing in a crouch side by side. Michael’s cybernetic composition winced slightly on impact while Vala landed softly, her heels pressing into the damp soil. They hunkered low, heading toward their old solar-powered Audi SUV and climbing in.
“Let’s go,” Michael said. He took off, slipping past an army of police and medical personnel headed into their apartment. “What do you think?
“Like I said, I didn’t want to do it, but I think we should’ve finished them,” she replied.
“No, I’m talking about what Keith said.”
“Frightening, fascinating, but there’s an obvious solution. They have to hand it over. Imagine the power that species has. They destroyed another alien craft that can travel the universe. We can barely make it to Mars without decades of planning and that’s right next door. We’re facing an alien species that destroys other aliens. That’s all I need to know,” she said.
Chapter Four
Sixteen hours later…
“Hello, Lucas,” A serious looking Army colonel said, extending his hand. “Long time.”
Symphony of Descension Page 3