by Jacob Gowans
“Sammy, they’re coming!” Strawberry warned.
Cala got up first, and Sammy threw his weight into her side. He was much bigger than her and drove her back into the far wall, away from Miguel who followed after them. Sammy and Cala hit the ground again their arms tangled as they tried to pin each other down. Sammy reached for Cala’s helmet, but as he did this, she pinned down the arm he needed to use to shield against Miguel’s incoming blast. Her sacrifice allowed Sammy to deactivate her, but gave Miguel his golden opportunity.
Turning quickly as he struggled to free himself from Cala’s frozen grip, Sammy saw that Miguel was already down with Strawberry standing behind him.
“Yep.” She gave him two thumbs up. “That was me. I saved you. I’m so clearly awesome.”
Sammy would have hugged her if the situation weren’t so dire. Instead, he thanked her and moved on. Around them, more walls disappeared. Kaden, Brickert, and Ludwig—the last of Kaden’s team—could not be far away.
“This way!”
The dull throbbing in his leg turned into a steady drumbeat, and his limp became even more pronounced as he led her deeper into the ever-vanishing labyrinth. Everywhere they went, they stayed hidden while Sammy tried to figure out exactly what Jeffie was planning. As he heard more and more of her orders, he became fairly certain she’d only lost Kawai and Hefani. That left her with seven players—all of them good ones.
Come on, one of you honchos, help me out here.
Almost on cue, Jeffie fired off new instructions, but they didn’t jive with the orders she’d recently been giving. What’s going on here? Li and Rosa weren’t supposed to be separated from Jeffie.
At that moment, Sammy knew that Major Tawhiri had given all three honchos the ability to hear each other. Jeffie had figured it out and sent false instructions into her com. However, judging from her most recent orders—real ones, Sammy assumed—she’d divided her team into three groups and had been keeping them near enough to help each other out as they patrolled the top floor of the maze. Unfortunately for her, Kaden had just wiped out one of her groups, Li, Rosa, and Brillianté, while Kaden had lost only Ludwig. Both teams were bleeding badly now. By taking out a third of Jeffie’s team, Kaden had greatly improved Sammy’s odds of winning.
Due to four more Betas being deactivated, a fifth of the maze faded into nothing. The Arena was beginning to look less labyrinthine and more like a random scattering of walls and short halls—any semblance of a complex design now shattered. Sammy hissed the instructions for his next move into Strawberry’s ear. They worked their way to one of the outer walls of the Arena. Once they’d reached their destination, they moved laterally, only leaving the wall when they had to go around obstacles. Sammy kept his attention on the middle of the Arena as Strawberry watched their sides. They hurried around a long L-shaped barrier when Sammy saw two Betas about thirty yards away, their backs turned toward him.
“Stay here,” he told Strawberry, then took off at a run. Though his leg functioned fine, tears sprang to his eyes from the pain. He sprinted the distance full-on, eyes locked on the targets, but ready to dive for cover should he need to. A powerful feeling came over him, like he was a great white shark sneaking up on unaware swimmers. His legs propelled him forward, his arms pumped to the same beat as his feet. Right before Sammy took to the air, and far too late, Antonio turned and saw him.
“What the—” he exclaimed as his helmet clamped down.
Parley turned, too, but Sammy soared through the air above his head, deactivating him next. As he landed, Strawberry called out for him over her com.
“Help me! Kaden and Brickert are chasing me.”
“Run toward me!” Sammy told her.
Walls disappeared as Strawberry rushed toward Sammy, one hand shielding behind her. Kaden and Brickert were fast overtaking her.
“Go left behind that wall!” Sammy ordered.
Immediately Strawberry hooked a left. Sammy dashed to help. Brickert followed his sister, and Kaden came straight at Sammy.
“Sammy!” Strawberry cried.
When he and Kaden were only a few meters apart, they launched themselves into the air at the same time, meeting each other mid-blast, bouncing off each other’s shields, and landing awkwardly. Sammy regrouped and blasted again, but Kaden did the same. This time Sammy gave his shield more of an angle, shoving Kaden’s hand up as he tilted his head to avoid Kaden’s next blast. When they clashed this time, they grabbed each other’s arms, locked fingers, and fell to the floor as one. Kaden had the better position and landed on top, but Sammy quickly countered by getting his feet down to the floor and blasting a third time, flipping them over.
Kaden never recovered from this move. Sammy used his strength and superior fighting skill to pin back Kaden’s arms with one hand and deactivate him.
“Kaden?” Brickert asked through the com. “Kaden, did you get Sammy?”
Strawberry’s gone. Brickert’s not.
He knew Brickert couldn’t be far. With only twenty percent of the walls remaining, the Arena was looking awfully bare. Kobe and Jeffie remained. Brickert alone represented Kaden’s team. And there was Sammy. He liked his odds. It didn’t take long to find Brickert. They almost bumped into each other walking around a corner. Bricker put his hands up, ready to shield, but when he saw Sammy he dropped them.
“That’s it?” Sammy asked. “You’re not even going to try?”
Brickert shrugged. Sammy heard a hint of a smile in his voice. “Why should I? You’ll embarrass me.”
Sammy laughed in good humor as he deactivated his friend. Kaden’s team was done.
Kobe and Jeffie . . . what a coincidence, he mused to himself as he stalked the remaining two. He saw very little chance of losing now unless they were able to catch him by surprise. A good mixture of fortune and skill had gotten him this far, and he suspected it would take him the rest of the way, too. Neither Kobe nor Jeffie could better him one-on-one. The only question left was had they already found him?
The wheels in Sammy’s head spun faster now, and the cogs turned cleaner than they had in quite a while. Why hadn’t she come to the rescue of Parley and Antonio? In fact, why had Parley and Antonio been so out in the open?
Bait. She’s close by. She’s stalking me, letting me finish Kaden’s team, taking token losses. She and Kobe plan to—
His thoughts were interrupted by Kobe and Jeffie attacking from opposite sides, firing blasts at Sammy with both hands. Sammy dropped low and shielded his front and back, barely escaping Jeffie’s blasts. The force of them rocked him as they bounced off his shields. He paused to catch his breath, waiting to see if they would make the next move or allow him.
Jeffie to the front. Kobe to the back.
Sammy dropped his shields and did a half-somersault, ending in a full-out blast off his hands. Feet first, he shot at Kobe, who had to duck to avoid being kicked in the face. He tried to deactivate Kobe, but Kobe shielded too quickly. Sammy flew past him harmlessly. Jeffie disappeared from view, probably trying to sneak around and reset the trap. Kobe came at Sammy, pressing the attack before Sammy had time to prepare. Sammy backed up, shielding again. Out of the corner of his eye he caught a glimpse of Jeffie running behind a series of walls only a few meters away.
Not smart, Jeffie, leaving me alone with Kobe. You’re not going to be back in time to reset that trap. And he was right. Moments before Jeffie appeared behind Sammy, Kobe had his helmet deactivated when Sammy used a triple-wall bounce to thoroughly disorient him.
As Sammy and Jeffie faced each other, the rest of the walls melted away. The only thing besides themselves and the floor was the stiff bodies of deactivated Betas like small mounds on an otherwise barren plain of steel-gray.
“So this is how you want it to end, Sammy?” They approached one another warily, Jeffie swaggering, Sammy hobbling to avoid putting any pressure on his aching limb. Judging by the tone of her voice, she still thought he intended to lose so he could stay at Beta headquarters. Yo
u couldn’t be more wrong.
He stood alone, his one teammate fallen, having managed to all but win this Game with odds stacked against him. Major Tawhiri is right. I am done at Beta. He had nothing left to prove. Alpha was the next step. And beyond that, who knew? There would be time for Jeffie and Brickert and other friends later . . . in a few years.
“Sorry, Jeffie,” he said.
Jeffie’s body changed from relaxed to stiff. “You’re not going to try to win. . . . ”
Sammy hesitated before he nodded.
“You’re not!” She ran at him firing blast after blast after blast.
Sammy met her with shields, deciding how to finish it while still letting Jeffie maintain some dignity.
“I’ll beat you, Sammy!” Her voice was thick and shrill. “I will!”
No, you won’t. Part of him imagined what a nice story it would make if she found a way to surprise him and keep him at headquarters a little longer. Or perhaps, at the last moment, he’d allowed her to beat him. But she didn’t stand a chance, and Sammy knew it was his time. It was his moment to tell Major Tawhiri and Psion Command that he was ready.
She attacked first, running to his left side, the side she must have seen him favoring as she’d stalked him. Sammy turned and defended. He aimed several blasts at her helmet, all of which she blocked. His leg screamed as he put weight on it to turn with her, and he ground his teeth as he tried to focus past it. I have to end this fast before I can’t stand anymore. He had no idea what was wrong. Yes, it had bothered him in the sims and previous Games, but nothing like this. Images flashed in his mind of Stripe’s room, the black door, the helmet, the creams. . . .
He launched himself into her, catching her off guard. He went for the helmet, but she grabbed his wrists. Sammy was stronger and bent her arms down, using his own to trap them at her sides as they fell together to the floor almost like lovers. She grunted her frustration and jerked one arm free and almost got him. Sammy twisted his body around until he was on top of her at a ninety degree angle to her body, pinning her so she couldn’t move her arms. She tried to use feet blasts the same way Sammy had done against Kaden, and it worked, sort of. She flipped both of them over, but Sammy used his weight to make the flip a full 360 degrees instead of 180 degrees like she’d wanted. Then he made sure she hit the ground hard.
When he landed on top of her the second time, he heard her gasp as the air rushed from her lungs. Stunned and struggling for her breath, she jammed her fist into Sammy’s left leg. Sammy cried out in pain and almost released her to make the agony stop, but he knew it was all she could do with her arm pinned. He had her, and she could do nothing to stop him as he efficiently ended the match.
He’d beaten her. He’d won.
When it was over, Jeffie took off her helmet and let him see her scarlet face. No tears ran down her cheeks, but Sammy knew they were close. She refused to look at him as she got up and turned to the nearest door.
“Jeffie. . . . ”
He tried to follow her, but his leg completely gave out. His hands stung as they smacked the cold floor. She didn’t respond as she walked away, although Sammy heard her let out a small sob when she reached the hallway. As the rest of the Betas came up to congratulate him on his epic victory, he didn’t feel like a winner at all.
10.
Glasgow
Sunday June 30, 2086
Commander Byron piloted his stealth cruiser over Hudson Bay heading south-southwest. He’d chosen his flight pattern to avoid any major cities and even most moderately populated areas. Much of the middle of North America was deserted, which meant forays into enemy territory were much less dangerous, especially in a stealth craft. The time on the cruiser’s console read 0300. Byron yawned and turned down the cabin temperature.
Behind him, Albert and Marie still slept on the floor of the cargo area, covered in blankets. Albert’s arm was wrapped over Marie and her foot rested on his ankle. Byron enjoyed the sight. His son and new daughter-in-law had returned from their honeymoon to Sicily a day earlier, cutting it short so they could come with him to Wichita. Commander Byron had originally insisted that they not alter their plans, but Albert had changed his father’s mind the morning of his wedding.
“Marie wants to come, Dad,” Albert told him as they changed into their wedding attire. “I want to come. I don’t understand why you’re so adamant—”
“Because it is not safe. I see no reason to endanger you and Marie.”
“I want to meet my grandparents,” Albert insisted, slamming his clothing locker a bit too hard. Several other people in the dressing room glanced over to see the source of the commotion. Albert dropped his voice. “So does she. What’s wrong with that?”
“They are very likely dead or hidden. Either way, I will not find them in Wichita. The only reason General Wu is allowing me to investigate is to salvage information from their headquarters. If my parents did manage to survive, he hopes I bring them back as informants. This is a mission, not a family reunion.”
“Sammy said you got a letter from your dad. What did it say?”
Byron swallowed. He hadn’t told his son about the letter for a reason.
“What the letter says is—is private, Albert.” His response sounded weak, and he knew it.
“Dad, come on! You’re the only family I have. No cousins. No uncles or aunts—no anything! I have a right to know my grandfather and grandmother.”
With difficulty, Byron ignored the pleading in his son’s eyes, but seeing how badly his son wanted to be connected with his extended family gnawed at him. “Can we talk about this after your wedding? I think it would be better to focus on that today.”
The suggestion bought the commander more time, for which he was grateful. Albert’s wedding was a simple, but beautiful ceremony. Commander Byron reflected back on his own wedding to Emily, taking her hand and promising to be true to her until the end of time had been the most sincere oath he’d ever made, and he had never broken it. No family or friends had attended their ceremony. They had arranged everything in under a week, and carried out their plans. It had been Emily’s idea.
Albert and Marie’s wedding reception, meanwhile, had all the trimmings. Commander Byron happily greeted the many family and friends of Albert and Marie Byron. The music was lively and the food extravagant. All through the festivities, in the back of his mind, was Albert’s request to meet his grandparents. What do I do? Byron also thought about the letter Sammy had delivered to him, wondering when the time would be right to finally read it.
“Are we almost there?” Marie asked behind him.
The commander blinked twice before her words registered, extracting him from the depths of his memories. “Almost.”
Marie wrapped her arms around the commander from behind, her head resting against his ear and cheek. “This means so much to Al. Thank you.”
Commander Byron awkwardly patted Marie’s arm, but at the same time, her gesture stirred something in his soul. “Think nothing of it. You and Albert are good company.” He turned to look at her. “Have I ever told you how lucky I am to have you as a daughter?”
Marie blushed and swept her hair behind her ears. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Well, you are the only daughter I will ever have, and I am not sure Emily and I could have raised anyone better than you.”
As Marie whispered her thanks, Albert awoke. Marie knelt next to him and pecked him on the lips. Commander Byron pretended to not hear the words they spoke to each other as Wichita came into view. On the horizon, a golden glow told Byron that dawn was about to break as they reached their destination.
Perfect timing.
Al and Marie both stood behind him, watching out the windshield as the dead city spread out before them. Byron flew at low altitude and saw the city where he’d grown up for the first time in almost twenty years.
“Dad, that’s downtown. Sammy said—”
“I know. We have time for that later. I want to show you somethin
g else first.”
Byron took the cruiser close to the ground as the last of the tall buildings disappeared behind them. The effects of the B-bomb could not be missed. Death reigned in Wichita. Large leafless limbs lay near crumbling tree trunks. The earth was a brownish-black where green grass had once been. If he looked closely enough, Byron could make out the carcass of deer and other small animals.
Then, in the middle of a small community on the farthest outskirts of the city, was a little cul-de-sac. The blue and white two-storey house stood at the apex of the circle. A near-perfect replica of it served as a mailbox at the end of the driveway. The commander remembered the day his father finished making it because he’d helped install the miniature house onto the post. Two weeks later, some joyriding teenagers had smashed it with a baseball bat. The commander’s mother, Lara, cried, but Thomas calmly took it down, salvaged what he could, and rebuilt it. After he installed it the second time, he sat on the porch until 0100 for three weeks, waiting to see if the punks dared do it again.
As luck would have it, they did. Byron remembered that night well, too. Three gunshots woke him up, followed by the sound of car tires screeching. As it turned out, Thomas Byron had blown apart three tires on a large, orange pickup truck with his rifle, nearly causing the truck to roll. The police arrived and arrested the three teenagers and Byron’s father. Unrepentant and defiant, Thomas Byron refused a lawyer, stating to the judge that he would defend his property come what may. The judge dismissed the case stating that Thomas had committed no crime, and the only punishment Commander Byron’s father ever received was a very sharp reprimand from his wife on the drive home. The Byrons’ neighbors waited outside as they returned from court, clapping and cheering loudly as they drove up the cul-de-sac.
Byron landed the cruiser in the street and invited Albert and Marie to accompany him. There was no breeze to speak of and the air smelled like a slice of stale bread charred in a toaster. The unnatural quiet and the unsettling scent reminded Byron that death surrounded them.