Stars on Fire

by Justin Bell

  Less than two seconds and both guards are out.

  Wasting no time, I drag the first Bragdon into a far corner and pile him with the other, keeping them both out of sight.

  "Tower One is down," I say quietly. "South corner is clear, but hold fast. North corner is still active."

  "Understood."

  Three hundred yards away... How exactly do I make it that far without being seen by the second tower or the surface patrol? When I take a step towards the front of the enclosed platform, preparing to lean out and get a better view, I kick something metallic on the ground. I look down to see a long-barreled plasma rifle very similar to the one Luxen used to save my life way back when. It may just be the perfect instrument to do what I need to do.

  In spite of my aching knees, I bend low to scoop up the weapon and investigate the threaded barrel. On the inside of the energy cavity there's a distinct secondary ring circling the black hole. Somewhere in the deep recesses of the onboard storage of my computer-chip brain, I recognize the noise suppression system. Plasma energy is notoriously soundless anyway, this can only make it better.

  I move to the rear of the watchtower booth, looking down on the roaming patrol to see their lights coming around the front of the compound bobbing back and forth as if scanning the grass. They stop, and my heart stops with them.

  In stark fear I watch them take a few steps forward, shinning their beams of light along the grass where I had crouched not moments before. One of them ducks down to touch the area, probably checking the grass, then turns and speaks with the other guard for a moment.

  Can they tell I was there? Did I leave something behind? After conversing for a moment, the crouching guard stands to join the other. As they both resume their meandering walk around the corner and towards the south side of the main building, my heart slowly picks up its pace again. I'm still undetected.

  I slowly pull back into the enclosed booth on the watch tower platform and remove the rifles battery to check the energy level. It's half full. Typical of lax Bragdon security, the guard didn't refill the weapon before his shift. Well, if things go right, I shouldn't need it...and when it comes to Brie Northstar, things always go right.

  Yeah, not so much.

  Pressing my hip against the waist-high wall of the tower enclosure, I lean to my right, propping the long weapon on my outstretched hand. A long, narrow, rectangular scope is bolted to the top. The pale green screen within, allows me to see the vague shapes of moving figures in the other tower. There's a frosted glass window facing me which doesn't allow much in the way of vision, but the shifting shadows and the picture within the scope add just enough clarity.

  One of the guards poke his head out and stand there for a moment, watching the swamps. I draw in a breath and hold it for a few beats, while tracking his movements with the barrel of the weapon, letting my finger hover over the ignition. Pulling my head away from the scope for a brief second, I spot the shadow of the second guard in the window and then close my eyes, waiting for my heart to even out again.

  It does.

  Pressing my eye to the scope, I draw down on the guard and fire, a single, piercing yellow bolt that zips through the air almost faster than eyes can track.

  Through the square window of the scope, I see the guard thrash as he stumbles backwards. I quickly swivel to shift the weapon left. I catch a brief flash of motion as the other guard reacts far more quickly than I thought he would.

  My second shot screams over his head, smashing a hole through the window and punching clean through the metal siding of the other wall. Seeing a flicker of motion, I move the weapon down and right, but I can't track the guard well.

  My pulse racing. Bragdons don't typically sweat, but if I could, I would be right now as for a frightening moment, I've completely lost the second guard and can only picture him punching an alarm and waking the entire facility.

  I dash over to the other opening of the tower enclosure and look out, but the ground patrol hasn't reacted at all. There's no sign they know anything is amiss. From the rear entrance, I turn again, leveling my weapon to aim on the second tower.

  Nothing. No movement. Where did he go?

  My breath comes in even, calm gasps as I steady my nerves and double check my aim, then wait. Seconds feel like hours.

  There.

  The heap of the fallen guard shifts slightly, and a sloped forehead lifts up for the briefest moment, checking to see if the coast is clear.

  It's not.

  My weapon fires again. The shadow of the sloped head jerks, then slumps.

  I check the battery of the rifle again and see the yellow light indicating it's almost empty. That means I can't use this to take out the patrol on the ground. I have to get a bit more...creative.

  Kneeling, I scope the roof of the facility with the weapon, and hover over a gathering of complex equipment on the south west corner of the roof, set back away from the shoreline and concealed by a steep pitch near the front of the building. It's right where Rorjak said it would be.

  Lowering the weapon, I glance down out of the tower, looking at the two story drop to the grass and rocks below, then I lift my eyes and look at the roof. I glance back over my shoulder to see what kind of running room I have.

  Not a whole lot.

  I tap my ear piece. "Tower Two is down."

  "Good job."

  "I'm not done yet."

  "Do you have eyes on the power station?"

  "Acknowledged. But we have ground patrol and a long way to get there."

  "Let us know when it's done."

  The ear piece clicks off. Hey, at least they seem to be confident in me. More confident than I am in myself. I stand and toss the weapon onto the floor with a clatter, walking back to the opposite side of the watch tower, taking care to step around the fallen Bragdons. With my foot I shove one of them over to the side to clear a path, then retrieve my duffel and strap it tightly over my shoulders.

  I double check the straps, take a deep breath, and charge forward, I hit the other end of the tower in three swift strides, then coil my legs and push hard. Hot wind rushes around me as I launch into the air, suspended by nothing for seconds, somewhere in limbo between solid surfaces with the watchtower falling behind me, the roof of the compound looming ahead.

  I hit the arc of my jump and start descending. The roof still looking so far away, almost too far away, but I coil my legs into my chest and curl forwards, tipping into a forward flip. I complete two rotations, then sprawl out long, stretching my arms, grasping with my fingers...

  ...and lock into the bare edge of the facility's roof. My fingers, wrists, and forearms scream as I clutch the edge, and I tuck my head as I slam forward, crashing chest-first into the concrete wall of the building. Pain explodes in my chest and through my torso, pain that threatens to unlock my fingers, but I keep them latched and solid. Hanging there, I do nothing but listen. Down below I hear the steady footfalls of the ground patrol, their boots crunching on rock, their voices a low murmur. Yeah, I could have timed that a bit better.

  Here I am, hanging about four yards above their heads as they walk past, their light beams crossing and traversing ragged rock. For a moment they stop below me, turning to chat with each other about who knows what. My arms throb and my fingers pull with the strain, threatening to drop me down on their unsuspecting heads.

  They move on, their voices drifting into the quiet dark, and once they round the corner, I release my held breath and pull myself up to the top, one arm at a time.

  Who's bright idea was this, anyway?

  The roof is smooth and angled, with a dull gray surface extending out through the rest of the main compound. Just ahead there's a steep pitch, that allows me to use fingers and toes to ascend quickly while avoiding being spotted by the ground patrol. I hit the peak and slide down the other side towards the power station.

  I can immediately recognize the telltale shape and color of fuel tanks towards the back side of the collection of brushed met
al canisters. Skidding to a halt by the surrounding tall, metal fence, I swing the duffel off my shoulder and drop it to the metal roof. Bobbing lights alert me to the approach of another patrol rounding corner. One of the beams twists and points towards me causing me to flatten myself against the bottom of the metal fence, suck in my gut, and hold my breath as the light coasts along the roof in front of me. It hovers there for a moment, then passes along, turns, and disappears back down to the ground. I release my breath and duck down to quickly unzip the bag. I push aside two low-power plasma pistols, the binoculars I'd used earlier, and a few other odds and ends until my hand closes around a rectangular piece of banded metal. The metal roof is hard on my knees as I push myself up, remove the device, then turn it over in my hands to study the small, green screen.

  Frantically I thumb the buttons, setting numbers on the screen. My eyes flash to the ground patrol, then to the power station, then back to the device in my hand. Everything is happening all at once.

  With my free hand I thumb my ear piece. "Get ready."

  "Ready and waiting."

  It all comes down to this. There are people inside this building who can give me answers. People in this building gave me life and took it away, all at the same time. What we do here could turn the tide of this entire war.

  With a gentle, underhand motion, I toss the device up over the fence and let it drop down amid the power station components. Metal clatters on metal as it rattles down the roof.

  The silence is all encompassing. For a brief moment it seems like nothing moves or breathes.

  Then the world is on fire.

  I turn away just as the initial impact thumps through the metal fencing and rolls over my right shoulder. A wall of heat and force knock me roughly sideways. As I topple clumsily over the slanted roof, pain punches me in the arm and pulls at my left side, but on the back side of my roll, I'm thankful for that. A wall of yellow flame erupts in the power station, consuming the metal fence and rippling the roof where I had been crouching only a moment before.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Well, that was more intense than expected.

  My body tumbles three more times, then finally skids off the edge of the roof out into mid-air. I grasp wildly backwards, trying to clutch some kind of ledge, but my fingers snap on emptiness, and I keep falling down towards the hard ground below.

  Twisting in the air, I bring my legs up and around to bend my knees, but the impact with the ground is sudden and shocking. It feels like a jolting battering ram slamming into my knees and ankles. The weakness in my legs carries me right to the grass. Lights flare in my eyes and my head swims with strange shapes and colors as I barely keep my tenuous foothold on consciousness.

  Alarms sound all around. My ears ringing with noise. As I try to pick myself up, I can see the bobbing flashes of twin beams of light coming around the front corner of the building, heading towards me.

  "You!" a gravelly voice shouts from behind the lights.

  "Stop right there!"

  My entire body is on fire. My muscles ache from the fiery explosion, the fall, and the crash to the ground below. I'm still not seeing or thinking straight, but as the beams of light crawl over the ground closer to me, I realize I don't have time to rest or recuperate.

  I dodge left, coil my legs, then pushing off to leap into the air. The lights break away and plasma fire spears through the darkness to sizzle the air just beneath my feet. I come down on the left light, curling my body to try and withstand the impact, and plow into the Bragdon. The light spins high up into the air and the pistol clatters to the rocky ground.

  Lifting myself up off the slumped pile of Bragdon, I whirl just as the second guard turns with his pistol elevated.

  I shift right to allow his shot to whip past me on the left, and move forward to knock the weapon aside then slam him in the throat with rigid, straight fingers. He gasps and stumbles, making a confused choking sound. I wrench the plasma pistol from his finger and drill the handle into the side of his head. He falls to the ground with a thud, and the light spins away to roll across the rocks and fall into the dark water with a splash.

  Spotting the pistol, I bend down quickly to scoop up the weapon, realizing for the first time that I'd lost my duffel bag in the explosion a few seconds ago. Behind me I can hear the front door slamming open and a murmur of excitable voices as an onrush of approaching Bragdon guards are flooding free from the research station.

  Almost immediately the night splits with a barrage of energy weapons streaking from the depths of night towards me. I immediately start back-pedaling towards the corner of the building, then I swing around it, narrowly avoiding a series of blasts. They slam into the concrete wall of the structure, scattering scalding chunks of rock across me.

  I press my back to the wall, willing myself to be smaller, narrower, and harder to hit as the narrow swords of plasma whack away at the wall around me. I lower myself and swing a pistol out and around the wall to squeeze off a pair of plasma shots, which strike an approaching Bragdon in the chest and send him stumbling backwards. I pull back swiftly, barely avoiding the deadly return fire of three more guards.

  The dark night is streaked with the radiating flash of energy weapons. Eying the rocky shore, I focus on a larger rock near the water and consider running down to it for cover. Chunks of stone covered shoreline explode upward from the rapid punch of plasma.

  One against...what? Twenty? I start to pull back from the corner as I look for other cover, but I can't find any. If I try to run back towards the rear of the compound, they'll be on me within moments, gunning me down. If I make a break for the rock, I just might make it, but then I'll be stranded out on the shoreline with nowhere to go. Unless I try the water...

  I seem to have no other option at the moment. The crowd of Bragdons gets closer by the moment, and I have no where else to go. Maybe if I get to the water and make my way around to the other side...

  I stop thinking and start acting, throwing myself into a sprint. My feet slam down on the uneven rocks between me and the large rock at the edge of the water. The large stone ahead is nearly two yards tall and three yards wide.

  Rocks explode at my feet and two beams scorch just in front of me. For a moment, I swear I can smell the burnt rubber of my wet suit, but I keep running. Another shot sears just behind me. A fourth shot drills me under the left armpit, missing my humerus only because my arms are pumping as I run. The shot picks me up and spins me into an uncontrolled pirouette that topples me. One last desperate, pain-filled lunge slams me to the ground behind the large rock as a bracket of plasma fire collides with it, making the surface glow with the white-hot brightness of the heat of their spent energy.

  A huge hunk of rock blasts away from the main boulder and spins up into the air as two more beams of light punch holes right through it. My torso is a raging fire of agony as large chunks of my only cover get knocked away. I glance at my left arm which is hanging uselessly by my side, and then at the water, but suddenly it seems so far away and the idea of jumping in and swimming anywhere is a complete impossibility. My options have gone from few to none.

  The plasma blasts ease, then halt, leaving the night as dark and quiet as the inside of a coffin. Feet stop crunching along the rocks, and the silence envelops me.

  "Step out from that rock!" shouts a Bragdon voice. "Or we will blast it to shards and pull you out!"

  Inside my head there's the steady tick-tock of a ticking clock as time drags on, each second seeming an hour. What will happen if I reveal myself? If I tell them who I am? Will they want to talk to me? Examine me? Or just get rid of me?

  None of the options seem good.

  "You have to the count of four!" repeats the Bragdon. I glance around the rock to see at least a dozen if them, but probably more. Maybe even as many as twenty. A row of them are kneeling with weapons clutched in two hands. A second row stands behind them with their plasma rifles pressed to their shoulders. A scattering of other guards flank the two rows, one
of them completely unarmed.

  "One!" the unarmed one shouts. I stay where I am, though I check the battery level of my plasma pistol. It's still halfway full, which gives me probably a few dozen shots. Hey, if I never miss a single shot and manage not to get blown away myself, I'm good to go. Colors are swirling through my already dizzy head, working to shut down the pain in my side, but mostly failing.

  "Two!" I lower my head, steadying my breathing. The pistol grip is slick in my hands, which have started to tremble slightly. That will certainly help the old accuracy.

  "Three!" This time I lift my head, pressing it back against the rock, as I look up to the sky. Even through the thick canopy of trees I can see the indigo fabric of night, barely pricked with a spattering of white stars. It's a beautiful night. Not a bad night to...