by Justin Bell
Up in this alcove the darkness is an all-consuming, pitch black that seems to be pressing in from all directions. I snap my head back and forth, trying to get my bearings from footfalls below.
My eyes, which still aren't my eyes, snap a few times, as my brain struggles to translate an odd, multidimensional flicker that is forming around me. By the third flicker, the world around me starts to clarify. Black is filtered through an opaque fog of green, and slowly, shape by shape, the world around me comes into focus, as if lamps that have been turned on, are a little too far away.
Night vision.
This new Bragdon body has night vision.
I creep forward on all fours, walking almost like a lizard does, with the belly close arms and legs splayed in weird bent knee and elbow formation. I skitter more than crawl along the floor of this alcove, moving forward at a steady pace, following the trajectory of the hallway down below. I don't hear the footsteps anymore. They faded away as if they continued on down the hallway, looking for me, while I doubled back towards Cell Block 42.
An expertly designed plan if I say so myself. I'd like to take credit for thinking of it, but the truth is, this strange reptile half of my brain is far more tactically savvy than I'll ever be. I just need to be sure to stay tapped into it.
As I skitter around another corner a few moments later, I find myself blocked by a concrete wall which extends up through the ceiling alcove. The air vent opening is far too small for me to fit through.
Is this it? Luxen's cell? I have no way of knowing from up here.
My sloped skull presses to the floor as I try to listen, and I hear the murmur of voices from the hall below. They didn't send all the security officers after me, they left some behind to guard the cell. They're not so dumb after all.
I stay still for a moment, considering my options.
What options? How many are down there? What weapons do they have? How could little old me hope to get through them?
These seem like valid, credible questions, but already my mind races with alternative solutions, none of which make me happy. They all seem to include plasma burns and broken bones, in some cases mine, in most cases theirs. At this juncture, the Adroxis Security Officers are my enemies, but I don't want them dead. I need to draw the line somewhere.
But I can't just sit up here thinking this through either. Eventually the horde that separated is going to figure out I'm not where they think I should be and come back, and then I'll be in trouble. Time is of the essence.
Down on my knees I extend my fingers with long, narrow claws at the ends of all eight of them.
You know, for creepy lizard dudes these Bragdons have sweet talons. It would take me years to grow my nails this nice.
With just a little pressure, the nails slide up and under the seams of the ceiling panel, easing it free from its clasps. With as much caution as I can muster I lift the panel, pull it towards myself, and set it behind me in the alcove. A quick peek through the square reveals the group of security officers hovering outside the cell door, and confirms that none of them heard the panel, but provides no clear indication of whether this is Cell Block 42.
It has to be. Would they station all of these guards outside a cell that didn't contain a renegade punk Bragdon? I doubt it.
The minutes are racing by. I don't have much time.
My eyes narrow on a panel on the far wall, and I smile, aware of what my next move is . . . what it has to be. There are six men down there, six men with four arms each, and many of them are toting two plasma weapons. That's a heck of a lot of firepower and not much wiggle room. Reaching for the liberated panel, I twist until the small lock pin falls into my leather-skinned palm.
The nails? Awesome. The skin? Not so much.
I pinch the fastener between my fingers, check to see which way the guards are facing, and aim down into the corridor. Holding my breath, I extend my hand, flick my fingers, and shoot the small, metal projectile behind them. For a moment, one of the guards jerks his head as if he heard something, but only looks around, not up.
The fastener strikes the panel, hitting the large green button and with a sudden, unexpected snap, all the lights in the hallway blink out. No windows equals total darkness.
The murmurs down below rise to whispers, then mumbles, and soon full blown barks of concern.
"What's going on?"
"Who hit that switch?"
"Did they cut the power?"
It's time to move.
Chapter Eleven
Down below, the figures are scrambling, looking around, and trying to figure out what's going on. I know this because I can see them. They appear in various shades of gray and green, that much is certain, but I can still make them all out clearly and I can still see where their weapons are pointed.
Athelonians, though? Yeah, they don't have this fancy night vision stuff.
In one smooth motion I curl my elbows, pulling myself forward, down and through the opening. With my fingers curled around the edge of the square, I somersault, then let go to drop into the center of the group of six officers.
"Who's there?" One shouts, swiveling, his weapon raised.
I lunge forward, plowing a balled fist into the bridge of his nose, and send him stumbling backwards with his arms pin-wheeling.
"Someone's here!" Another officer shouts and I can see him turning to point his weapon in my general direction. I drop down as the rifle fires, sending purple plasma into the chest of another guard behind me, then leap into the air to knock the gun aside. I twist my other leg around in a crescent shape, crashing my massive reptile foot into the side of his head. The impact is so hard, he flips sideways, crashing to the ground on his right shoulder. His helmet pops off and his weapons scatter.
A fourth one fires three times, missing to my right. I move in to kick him in the stomach, throwing him back against the wall so hard the impact dents the metal surface behind him. Another flash of light to my right causes my shoulder to flare in pain as the stun blast plows into me, glancing from my arm and splashing against the wall next to me. I grimace, but recover, moving right as the light in the hallway dims again and they lose track of me.
Two left. Twenty seconds and only two left.
One of the last two lunges blindly and manages to smack me with his weapon, then turns his other weapon towards the impact and fires point blank at my face. I'm already dropping down, so the stream of energy zips just above my sloped scalp. I hurl forward, elbowing him in the chest, then following up with a rocketing punch to his opposite temple.
As he falls to the side, I move toward the last standing officer in clear night vision view, but his weapon turns towards me as I move towards him and I'm staring down the cold, dark eye of danger. He fires blindly, sending a stripe of pain streaking up the ribs of my left side.
At least as an Athelonian that's where my ribs were. I have no clue what my anatomy is like now. These are questions that will keep me up at night.
I roll with the impact, trying to muzzle my groan of pain, but he must have heard me, because he follows my path with the barrel of his weapon and fires again. This time I am quick enough, to avoid a second spear of bright light, but the shot illuminates the hallway. His eyes fix on mine, and his legs send him charging towards me. I back pedal, avoid his initial lunge, then brace my legs and push forward to intercept him with a fist to his broad chin. His teeth slam together as he stumbles backwards. I move in closer for a couple of gut punches and a round-house kick. The impact of his head crashing into the wall finishes him.
I stand there in the hallway, muscles tensed and fists clenched, waiting for more motion, waiting for another guard to arrive, just waiting...for something.
The hallway is silent.
All six guards are on the ground.
Ahead of me I see the locked cell door marked with a narrow metal badge proclaiming the number forty-two. Off in the distance I hear the soft slapping of running footsteps, but I'm not quite used to this new body yet,
so I can't quite tell how close they are.
I rummage through the belt of one of the fallen security guards and retrieve a badge of some kind. Yanking it free, I turn towards the door as the echoing footfalls get louder, and press the badge to the card reader on the left side of the sealed entrance.
It buzzes red.
I turn and look at the other bodies as I hear the footsteps get louder and voices barking orders to each other. They're getting closer.
"Are the lights out up there?"
"What's going on?"
"Move! Move! Move!"
I crouch again and fish through the pouches on a second guards pant legs, pulling out another badge, which I turn over in my hand, trying to translate. I hold it down against the card reader with my heart racing.
The light flashes green.
The door clicks.
It starts to slide open, but I wedge my fingers inside and shove, forcing the door to spread wide, then slip inside, turn and slam it back closed behind me.
Up above, the lights flicker, then flash on.
"Who are you?"
Luxen. It's Luxen's voice. I'd recognize it anywhere.
I turn to look at the young Bragdon boy who saved my life. The kid who almost disgusted me a month ago, is now someone I risked life and limb to set eyes on again. The emotions when I see him are difficult to rationalize, but all I can do is smile.
"I'm here to rescue you," I say, and it sounds just as stupid as I feared it would. I'm not some chill action star; I'm a nerdy teenage girl. I can't get away with stuff like that.
"How did you get here?" he asks, his mouth wide and eyes glaring.
"It's me," I say. "It's Brie."
He moves his head back, looking me over, crumpling his face into some strange reptile look of utter confusion.
"I don't understand," he says, because of course he doesn't.
"I . . . I don't know how to explain," I reply, looking down at my hands again. The same four fingers are still there.
"Are you . . . one of us?" he asks, stepping forward and touching my face with his own fingers. A month ago, the touch of a Bragdon would have been repulsive, but today, it's comforting . . . normal.
I look down at my hands again, and the mottled gray is shifting to pale flesh. Before my very eyes, one of the thick fingers splits into two and as the colors shift, my Bragdon hands become Athelonian hands again. The pain is less this time. It's still there with the strange tugs, twists, and pops of skin, muscle, and bone. The knee pops when my legs reform is something I don't think I will ever get used to.
Less than a minute later I stand there, looking at the boy who saved my life. I'm back to being Brie Northstar, the eighteen-year-old Athelonian girl, daughter of Redax, and innocent shuttle passenger who somehow got pulled into the strangest adventure ever.
"You are one of us," he says, smiling.
"I'm not sure exactly what I am," I reply. "This is all new to me, Luxen. All I know is that you don't deserve this, and I couldn't just let it happen."
Outside the door, footsteps echo. Dozens of them. Luxen glances over my shoulder.
"Okay...so now what?"
A voice breaks through the confusion.
"Brie? Are you in there?"
No. Oh God no.
"Brie! Come out right now! There is nothing you can do for him!"
My father! My father is right outside this door, surrounded by Adroxis Security, and this is the worst day of my life.
In the distance I hear the faint blast of claxons from the prison yard. Yeah, I think I might have just stepped in it this time.
"Brie Northstar!" he shouts. "I have two dozen security officers out here! We'll be opening this cell door in moments! I hope you have a good explanation!"
"Daddy!" I shout. "Please, daddy. Please just let him go."
Silence is my only response. The only response I deserve.
Outside, alarms grow louder and longer. Is this all for little old me?
I hear shuffling movement outside the door, then a beep and click. The door slides open.
There's no more hiding. I'm standing there, back in my Athelonian form, standing next to Luxen, a Bragdon. There's no denying what I've done, what I'm trying to do, or what my end goal is. I can't talk my way out of this.
"Come with me, Brie," my father says. He stands there in the hallway with a handful of officers still scattered on the floor at his feet. Several more officers who are awake, alert, and armed flank him and fill the hallway behind him. Weapons are raised and trained, standing shoulder to shoulder, filling every empty inch of space. There is no way out.
"It's not too late," Dad continues. "I'm giving you a way out." He extends both right hands towards me in acceptance, or maybe, of forgiveness.
Do I even want it?
I could go with him, sure, but what would that change? Luxen will still be dead next week, and all of this would be meaningless.
The alarms outside don't just blare; they howl. My father's eyes dart towards the wall, as if wondering what's going on in the prison yard.
Maybe these alarms aren't for me after all?
"I won't make this offer again," he says. "You've crossed a line, Brie, but I can pull you back. If you make the right choice now, I can give you another chance. But only one."
"And what happens to Luxen?" I ask before I can reconsider.
His face hardens and his mouth narrows. I can see the impatience carving lines into his skin and pulling his eyes into narrow slits.
Right, Luxen pays the price. No matter what, the boy who saved my life dies as a villain.
"I... I can't, Dad," I reply, drawing in a breath and squaring my shoulders. "I can't do it. It's wrong."
My father closes his eyes. He effectively shuts me out of his life with one small movement. His eyelids represent a door closing on his relationship with his only child and I have no one to blame but myself.
"Take her," he says quietly, starting to turn away.
I lower my head, accepting the inevitable. There was no positive end to this scenario. There was no way this was going to end well. What did I expect?
Two guards take a step forward, almost in unison, reaching out towards us, handcuffs ready to draw us in. My fight has ended.
The flash of light is blinding as the left wall ahead of me explodes inward. Chunks of wall surrounded by thickened fingers of smoke, slam the two guards in front of me against the opposite wall as if a giant reached out and punched them.
All around me the roar of explosions rocks the narrow hallway, stones and debris scatter around, and security officers scramble to regroup. The world, or at least the part I can see, is being thrown into loud, smoke-filled chaos.
A large hole in the left wall sits open, the dark of night visible beyond, my eyes roaming for some sense in the madness of this new world.
Two Bragdons emerge, each one carrying a slender, rectangular weapon. Each is layered in thick, dark body armor and has a sleek helmet, wrapped around his narrow reptile head.
Each one is looking at Luxen and me.
"Brie Northstar!" shouts one of them. "I am Gragson from the Yarkos sector of Braxis! We are here to rescue you!"
Gragson, wasn't he the one at the airfield before I left? Wasn't he the one in charge? I stand there stock still, unable to move. Debris fills the hallway, leaving Adroxis Security scattered and uncertain.
"We don't have much time!" he shouts. "Grab the boy! We must go!"
I glance at him, then back at the hallway. My father stands on the other side of the collapsed wall with his eyes boring into mine.
"Stop, Brie! Don't do it!" he shouts. "You are my daughter! You are Athelonian!"
Am I? I'm not so sure.
He looks back over his shoulder. "We need reinforcements!" he screams. "No stun weapons! Shoot to kill!"
I draw in a long, deep breath, looking back over at Gragson who looks nervous and apprehensive.
"You have ten seconds," he mutters. "Then we will gr
ab the boy and leave without you."
Alarms blare all around me, smoke stings my eyes and fills my lungs. Ahead Adroxis Security falls into formation, lifting their weapons as Luxen pushes past my left shoulder, charging towards his savior.
"Brie!" my father shouts. "Make the right choice!"
I am making the right choice. Of this I am certain.
I take one last look at my father.
And run towards Gragson at full speed, following close behind the boy who was destined to die.
"Brie!" My father shouts one last time. "Brie!"
I don't look back; can't look back. Through the blasted wall I can see the Bragdon ship ahead, the familiar sloped shape of a drop ship, the same kind I stole a month ago to escape that awful swamp planet. Now I was getting in one, voluntarily, to go . . . where? Back to Braxis? Somewhere else?
I don't know. But what I do know is that I no longer belong here. Athelon is alien now, a planet I have never belonged to, and one that was distasteful and foreign to me.
Ahead Luxen is running up into the hold of the drop ship and I follow him. All around the prison yard, headlights blare and engines roar as vehicles approach. Plasma weapons start to erupt.
As I slip into the passenger compartment, the door slams closed behind me and before I can even strap in, quad thrusters explode to life, throwing the ship into the air. It banks left to avoid a barrage of anti-aircraft fire, then hovers a moment as the engines blast, throwing the small ship forward at unimaginable velocity.
All around me the windows show stars blurring into streaks of light as the ship leaves Athelon airspace and carried me towards the next phase of my life.
Epilogue
He stands at the console, looking out through the large view screen, a wall sized slab of glass showing the vastness of space interspersed with specks of stars.
Locking his wrists behind his back, the Bragdon known only as Command, glares out at a distinct twinkle, a blip of light which grows brighter, twists, then pulls to a narrow streak as it leaves Athelon's atmosphere and hurtles through the cosmos.