Survival Aptitude Test: Fury (The Extinction Odyssey Book 2)

by Mike Sheriff

  Radan’s hand fell to the sheath on his belt. Cang set her hand atop his, preventing him from drawing the dagger.

  Su edged through the crowd. He stopped within arm’s reach of the blade-wielding boy. “Calm yourself, Duyi.”

  Cang latched onto the boy’s name. A hint of personal information could often walk a confrontation back from the brink. She took two steps toward him, hands still raised. “We’re not here to trick you, Duyi. That much I promise you.”

  “I’m not going back to the Rig,” Duyi said, head swiveling between Su and Cang. “They kept me on that slab at eighty percent strain for seven days.” He leveled his gaze and dagger at Cang. “I’ll carve your eyes out of your skull before I’ll let you take me back there!”

  “You can try,” Radan said. “But I’d wager you’ll find my dagger in your heart before you succeed.”

  “Stand down, Radan,” Cang said. “No one’s culling anyone tonight.”

  Su reached for the boy. “I admire your courage. But we’re here to talk, not fight.”

  Duyi’s eyes welled. Tears tracked down his hollowed cheeks. “Can’t you see she’s trying to trick us? Can’t you see we’ll all be shackled to a rig before dawn?”

  “We’re only exchanging words,” Su said. “Put the blade away.”

  Duyi’s tortured gaze shifted to the glimmering blade. It trembled in his hand.

  For a hopeful moment, Cang thought he was going to drop it, diffusing the stand-off without the need for further action on her part.

  The blade steadied. Duyi drew a shaky breath and lunged at her. “I won’t go back!”

  Radan surged forward and snatched Duyi’s sleeve. Cang spied the glint of crystal in her aide’s free hand as it swung at the boy.

  “It’s a trap!” one of the other denizens cried.

  Duyi arm-blocked the attempted strike. He raked his own blade across Radan’s forearm, opening a long gash. Radan cried out and recoiled. His crystal dagger clattered to the ground. Duyi drew his knife-hand back, readying for another thrust.

  Cang drew her dagger and launched forward. She swung the blade at Duyi’s arm, aiming for a wounding slice to interrupt his thrust.

  Duyi stumbled, thrown off-balanced by Radan’s grip. He fell toward Cang’s arcing blade. Its edge found his throat, opening it from collarbone to collarbone.

  Duyi dropped his blade and wrapped both hands around the wound, trying to stem its bloody torrent. The effort proved futile; two-dozen hands wouldn’t have made a difference. He sank to his knees and flopped onto his side. His eyes rolled back.

  Other denizens drew their knives. They edged closer, uttering profanities.

  Cang grabbed the collar of Radan’s bianfu and yanked him backward. Hyro stepped in front of them, her own dagger raised to ward off the mob. Cang cursed the wretched turn of events; she’d created the very inciting incident she hoped to avoid.

  “Stop!”

  The dissenters halted only three paces from Hyro. One by one, they turned and looked to Su for guidance.

  His pitiful gaze never left Duyi’s body, but his voice remained as firm as sandstone. “Duyi brought this upon himself. There was no need to attack the Jiren.”

  “There was no need for her to cull him,” one of the denizens said.

  “It was an accident,” Su said. “He stumbled into her blade.”

  “Does it matter?” the same denizen asked.

  Su looked up. He heaved a sigh laden with decades of struggle. “We can’t keep following the same cycle of culling and dying. We have to rise above our basest instincts. Put your blades away. ”

  After a moment of grumbling, the denizens pocketed their knives. Cang and Hyro sheathed their daggers. Radan tugged a wad of flexglass from a belt pouch and dressed his wound. Su gazed across the ten-foot gulf separating the two groups. “Shall we try starting over?”

  “I’d like nothing more,” Cang said. “My sorrow for Duyi.”

  Su accepted the apology with a nod. “State your case, commander.”

  “My case is simple,” Cang said. “We can either trust each other and survive. Or we can continue down the path we’ve always followed and end up in the same place.”

  “And where would that be?” one of the denizens asked.

  “Extinction.”

  The comment earned grunts of disdain from most of the denizens. Su, however, remained silent as he pondered it. “And how would we avoid that fate?” he asked.

  Cang took a breath. She spent the next few minutes outlining the plan and highlighting the number of district commanders who were on her side. Commanders like Hyro who were committed to bringing change to Daqin Guojin. Leaders like Primae Jiren Pyros’ who were risking their lives to remove the Unum, Narses, and Julinian from power.

  When she finished, Su offered a dismissive smirk. “A compelling plan, but that’s all it is. We’ll need to do more than remove the Unum and his family from power. We’ll need to find someone to take their place.”

  “Anyone would be better than the Unum,” Radan said, clutching his forearm.

  “I’m not so sure,” Su said. “I remember what it was like under Asianoid rule. Oppression is bred into the Cognos Populi’s bones.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Cang asked.

  “Assembly elections through popular voting,” Su said. “Popular voting that includes all castes in the city-state.”

  Radan rasplaughed. “The ruling caste would never allow it. Even if the Unum was dead, they’re not going to surrender the privilege of buying their kin’s place in the Cognos Populi.”

  “I didn’t say it would be easy,” Su said, “but that’s the price of our cooperation.” He shifted focus to Cang. “Can you accept such a price, commander?”

  “If it prevents Daqin Guojin’s destruction, then yes.”

  “Words,” a elderly denizen grumbled. “Those are only empty words.”

  Su nodded. “My colleague has a point. What can you offer us in terms of substantive proof?”

  Cang mulled the question, but nothing tangible came to mind. “Give me a few days to think it over.”

  “Two days,” Su said. “We’ll expect tangible proof of your words by then.”

  With a wave of his hand, Su dispersed the crowd. A minute later, Cang, Hyro, and Radan found themselves in an empty cloister under a waning moon. They wandered toward the levicart. Radan grunted though his teeth.

  “Has your arm stopped bleeding?” Hyro asked.

  “Yes, sireen.”

  “That was a brave act.” Cang swatted Radan’s good arm. “Foolish, but brave.”

  “Could have been worse,” Hyro said. “Imagine if they’d had dart guns or sonic rifles to turn against us.”

  Cang halted. She glanced at Hyro and chucklebucked. “Yes . . . imagine if they did.”

  10

  Call to Arms

  CANG VEERED OFF the transway and brought the levicart into hover. She shoved the throttle-control to the right, moving it past the detent into idle. One by one, the external varinozzles powered off and the vehicle’s hullform settled onto the ground.

  In the passenger seat, Commander Hyro yawned and peered through the windshield. She’d maintained the same mute detachment during the forty-minute transit from the habitation complex in Zhongguo Cheng. Cang could only guess at what was on her mind.

  A throaty chucklebuck emanated from behind her right shoulder. Su al Xing’s thoughts were less of a puzzle. Apparently, their destination amused him.

  “I can’t believe you brought me here,” he said.

  Cang gazed through the windshield at the depot’s nullglass façade. A cylindrical dome capped the squat, rectangular structure. Its designer hadn’t bothered to employ architectural flourishes on the exterior. No buttresses. No corbels. Not even an Imperial Regalia. What the structure lacked in height and aesthetics, it made up in length and contents. The depot ran along an east-west axis for several thousand feet. Its main entrance—its only entrance—consisted of a
single slab of opaque nullglass. No guards were present; the nullglass slab made them unnecessary.

  Su had asked for proof of her words within two days. She’d come up with a way to demonstrate it in less than twelve hours. She and Hyro had surprised him by showing up at his habitation complex at dawn. They surprised him again by asking him to don a Jireni uniform en route to their destination. They hadn’t mentioned where they were going, and Su hadn’t asked. It must be clear to him now, along with the reason for the disguise.

  The arms depot of Yindu Cheng was a hardened target. The kind that sought to keep known dissenters out.

  Cang twisted in her seat.

  Su straddled the jump seat, clad in the black uniform of a dagger-ax man. Body armor bulked his gaunt frame. Three helmets hung from deckhead-mounted clips above him. The soles of his boots tapped a staccato beat against the floorboards.

  She couldn’t help sense the air of nervousness, both in Su’s bipedal cadence and Hyro’s uncharacteristic silence. “How are you both feeling?”

  “Oddly relaxed without your aide’s incessant chatterwailing,” Hyro said. “Where is the boy? Taking the day off to let his tongue recover?”

  “He’s trying to establish comms with Pyros.”

  Su leaned forward. “Pyros is out of contact?”

  Cang cursed the verbal slip and weighed the prospect of lying about his whereabouts. Should she let one of the city-state’s leading dissenters know that the Primae Jiren had left Daqin Guojin? What damage could Su and his people wrought with such information?

  She cursed again. The attitude was precisely what she needed to overcome to establish trust with her nascent ally. She suppressed her innate instinct for secrecy. “He was tasked by the Unum to accompany Narses and Julinian beyond the border.”

  “To what end?”

  “In pursuit of some dissenters.”

  “He’s pursuing dissenters beyond the border? Why would anyone do that?”

  “That’s an excellent question,” Hyro said. “If you can figure it out, let us know.”

  “Who are the dissenters?”

  “Primae Librarian Laoshi, another denizen, and two prospects,” Cang said, glancing over her shoulder to gauge his reaction.

  Su blinked, seemingly stunned by the revelation. “Laoshi al Euclidius is considered a dissenter?”

  “He is now,” Hyro said. “Surely you must know how quickly one can be labeled as such by this regime.”

  Cang caught a glint of understanding in Su’s eyes. He’d once been a Librarian like Laoshi, though he’d left the vocation more than a decade ago to pursue other interests, chief among which was overthrowing the Cognos Populi. “We need to focus on the here and now,” she said. “You’d best don your helmet. Commander Pabbu should be out soon.”

  Su grabbed the middle helmet—the only one that fit—and pulled it on. Once he lowered its faceplate, he looked like any other Jireni. He ducked his head and craned his neck to take in the depot’s imposing façade. “I never imagined I’d get this close to Yindu Cheng’s arms depot.”

  “You’re about to get even closer,” Cang said. “You’re going to be escorted into the main arsenal by the district commander himself.”

  “Accompanied by the district commanders for Zhongguo Cheng and Riben Cheng,” Hyro added. “Truly an auspicious event.”

  Su chucklebucked. “This will make for a good story when we’re old and senile.”

  “If we live that long,” Hyro said.

  Cang checked the chronoglyph on the levicart’s dash. It was nearly time.

  On cue, the nullglass slab emitted a shrill tritone and swung inward, revealing a darkened maw. A portly figure in a black bianfu stepped through the void.

  “There he is,” Hyro said. “As punctual as ever.”

  Two Jireni appeared behind the figure. Their dart guns glinted in the morning light.

  Cang grunted. “He’s supposed to be alone.”

  Hyro shrugged. “Pabbu al Mandes always was a timid one—even for an Indonoid. Did you really expect him to meet us on his own?”

  Cang checked the sheath on her belt, confirming her dagger was fully seated. She turned to Su. “Remember, keep your mouth shut and your helmet on. Your voiceprint and facial features will have been recorded into the depot’s bio-scanning system long ago. If its sensors register your presence, our visit will be cut short.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Hyro said.

  Su nodded, already erecting a wall of silence.

  They exited the levicart and marched toward the entrance. Commander Pabbu greeted them with an effusive smile, but his eyes reflected their typical caution. “Welcome, commanders. I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon after the Unum’s summons.”

  “Survival through knowledge,” Cang said. She grasped Pabbu’s shoulders and leaned forward until their foreheads touched. She straightened just as quickly. “Thank you for meeting us on such short notice. I assume you’ve made the necessary preparations for my inspection?”

  “Of course. My depot is at your disposal.”

  He led them past the nullglass slab and onto a plane of crystalline tiles that spanned one hundred feet. Cang’s skin shrank as she crossed the cull zone; there were likely a hundred remote weapons trained on them. If one of them matched Su’s lumbering gait to its storehouse of biometric data on known dissenters, a maelstrom of glass darts and sonic rounds would be loosed at any moment.

  The reached a secondary entrance beyond the cull zone without incident. A dozen access keypads studded the crystalline panels on either side of another nullglass door. Pabbu nodded at the one of his Jireni escorts. The Jiren entered a passcode into one of the keypads on the right-hand side.

  Pabbu smirked at Cang. “As you can see, we randomize which keypad provides access to the main arsenal. It gives us an added level of security.”

  “An excellent idea,” Cang said.

  The door opened with a weary sigh. Pabbu led the entourage into a long corridor. They passed through four additional access points, bypassing the bio-scanning procedures on Pabbu’s authority. Within four minutes, they’d reached the depot’s innermost—and most restricted—sanctum.

  Another nullglass slab protected the main arsenal from unauthorized entry. Another dozen keypads graced the crystalline panels on either side of it.

  Pabbu dismissed the two Jireni escorts with a curt wave. Once they were gone, he punched an access code into a keypad. The four-inch-thick slab hissed as it opened.

  Cang had some idea of what they’d find inside, but the scale of the arsenal still culled her breath.

  Towering racks of dart guns, sonic rifles, and sound cannons stretched for hundreds of feet along the perimeter walls. Heavier crew-served weapons gleamed, arrayed in tidy rows along the floor. Armored levidecks and levicarts glutted the central areas, hullforms glinting in the ambient light. There had to be more than three hundred vehicles in all.

  Hyro released a whistling breath. “And I thought Riben Cheng’s arsenal was vast.”

  Cang leaned to Pabbu and whispered in his ear. “Close and latch the door, then deactivate the bio-scanning system.”

  Pabbu’s brow folded, but he complied with the order. The moment the nullglass door latched, he dropped the veneer of civility from his manner. “Why in Sha’s name did you come here? Are you trying to draw attention to me?”

  “We have good reason,” Cang said.

  Pabbu gestured to Su, still clad in his Jireni helmet and body armor. “Can this Jiren be trusted?”

  Cang nodded at Su. He removed his helmet and smiled. “I’m not a Jiren, Commander Pabbu.”

  Pabbu’s eyes bulbed. His incredulous gaze flicked between Cang and Hyro. “You . . . you brought Su al Xing into my arms depot?”

  “Technically, you brought him in,” Hyro said.

  Veins bulged over Pabbu’s temples. “Are you mad?”

  “No madder than you,” Cang said. “You’re going to give him whatever arms he needs to sup
ply his men.”

  Pabbu stuttered, complexion morphing to an alarming shade of red. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Does she look like she’s joking?” Hyro asked.

  “You’ve lost your minds! Both of you!”

  “Perhaps,” Hyro said. “But what use are our minds if our city-state descends into ruin? We must take desperate measures to survive.”

  “Not this desperate! There has to be another way.”

  “The only way to meet force is with force.” Hyro motioned to the weaponry glutting the arsenal. “This will place us on an even-footing with the forces loyal to the Unum.”

  “Or hasten our descent into full-scale insurrection.” Pabbu sneered at Su. “He’s just as likely to turn the weapons on us!”

  Su didn’t respond to the accusation. Hyro answered on his behalf. “I trust him.”

  “Then give him access to your arms depot in Riben Cheng!”

  “And then what? Ask him and his men to traverse the breadth of Daqin Guojin to bring the fight to Zhongguo Cheng?”

  Pabbu raised his hands. “If you insist on following this reckless path, I won’t stand in your way. But I won’t stand by and let one dart gun fall into that man’s hands.”

  “You should reconsider that stance,” Hyro said, voice lowered to an ominous whisper. “It would be in your best interest.”

  Pabbu folded his arms across his chest and dug in his heels. “I’ve made my decision.”

  Hyro heaved a sigh. She glanced at Cang and shrugged. “I tried.”

  Cang had already drawn her dagger from its sheath. Its tip found Pabbu’s ribcage before he noticed she’d swung her arm.

  Pabbu grunted and scowled, seemingly perplexed by the random blow. It was only after Cang retracted her hand that his eyes widened, gaze fixed on the blood-streaked blade in her hand. “What . . . what have you done?”

  Cang welded her gaze to his eyes, weighing the need for a second strike. It wasn’t necessary. Within seconds, he collapsed without another word. The thud of his body echoed through the arsenal.