by Scott E Moon
You deserve her love. (But I will still do you when she isn’t looking.)
Kin’s anger faltered, because Laura’s last message made less sense than the rest of it. Did she think he was in love with Clavender? She should know better. Clavender was beautiful and kind, but Kin had been her friend a long time and he thought Laura had overcome her jealousy. He massaged his temples and fought back exhaustion.
“What do the messages say?” Rickson asked.
Kin looked at him, then at Clavender. “They’re having problems with the weather. The Fleet troopers are tearing apart ships to build a refuge. If they intended to stay, I’d think they were converting warships into terra-forming machines.”
“But they aren’t staying,” Rickson said.
“I get the feeling they want to be gone yesterday,” Kin said.
Clavender moved close to Kin and touched him. She slipped her arm around his waist and put her head on his shoulder as she was prone to do. Her skin was hot and she leaned on him more than normal.
“You cannot keep him from taking me.” She cried, but Kin also heard a guttural noise that reminded him of the Reaper. She was awake, but Droon was close enough to press into her subconscious. Kin examined the bite wounds. The flesh around the lacerations was purple and healing slowly.
“We are going to move fast, Rickson,” Kin said. He took Clavender by the hand, not because she needed help, but because he feared she would try to escape. They ran as often as they walked and Droon seemed to be behind them, in front of them, and on both sides each time Kin changed course.
“Kin,” Clavender said.
He stopped and watched her face, trying to detect a fit caused by Reaper venom.
“I want to go home,” she said. She converted her sadness into a smile and lifted her gaze to meet his.
“When this is over, I’ll take you.”
“No you won't,” she said. “Can we rest here? We should talk while my head is clear.”
Kin found a place for Clavender to sit and told Rickson to climb a large bolder and keep watch.
“When I was young, I controlled the wormhole easily and visited many places. I brought pretty things home, things that tasted good, people I found amusing. This displeased my father, but he did not stop me from wandering,” Clavender said.
“Why tell me this now?”
“Because I know of the Imperials that your Fleet warriors speak of. I know that they conquer worlds and impress people and creatures into their army,” she paused, giving Kin a chance to interrupt, but he didn’t.
“I found an army of Imperials being destroyed and pulled them through the wormhole. That was one crime my father could not forgive. My people knew nothing of war. The people you call Imperials shared many good things with us, but they also taught us war and violence. Paradise was broken and my father and his warriors wanted to punish and destroy them. I was still a young girl at the time, by the standard of my kind, and I fooled the Imperials and my people.
“As the warriors of the Ror-Rea massed, I convinced the Imperials they could win a great victory if they gathered at a certain place at a certain time. When they arrived, I flung them through the wormhole to the farthest part of the galaxy where they could wage war constantly. Of all the places I have seen, this part of the galaxy is the worst—constant war, terrible creatures, and murderous armies. I knew it would be almost impossible for the Imperials to fight across the galaxy to my people.”
“The story you’re telling would take eons,” Kin said. He’d participated in planet hopping campaigns early in his career and understood the cost in lives and equipment. He also knew an army fighting for ages to escape the war torn corner of the galaxy Clavender described would change each generation. They would live for war and understand nothing else.
She smiled and touched his face with her soft hand. “After I came to the coast and found the people here, I created a ring around the area to keep my people away, but also to keep people from Crater Town from finding the Ror-Rea.”
Kin evaluated every word she said and her body language. “Are you telling me the storms, monsters, and earthquakes are your doing—that we could live in peace if not for your feud with your father?”
“I did not say that. My people still wish for me to send them through the wormhole to destroy the people they feel ruined the Ror-Rea, but I have refused. Warriors of the Ror-Rea gather once a year and attempt to fly to the wormhole and force their way through. It is foolish, because they do not understand that most of the openings are in the void of space.”
“You told me about the young warriors trying for the wormhole, but why are you telling me the rest now?”
She waited a long time before answering. “A man came to see me after your Fleet landed.”
“What was his name?” Kin asked, though he already knew.
“Raker. He asked questions and I lied. He knew much of the Imperials, and that is why I call them thus. In my language, they are called the Mazz. The Clingers are their creation and what drove my people to war,” Clavender said. “The Mazz subdued the monsters and used them as weapons. Many kinds of men and beasts have suffered a similar fate. The Mazz, the Imperials, would do the same to my people and yours.”
Kin heard what she said, but was thinking of Droon and his Clinger armor being turned into a weapon to attack the Fleet. “Rest. I need to scout this area before we go.”
The decision to continue at night was the hardest decision Kin made during the entire journey. He’d pushed Rickson and Clavender hard across the canyon floor, wanting to reach shelter before darkness fell. The canyon was deceptively rugged. From a distance it looked smooth, but there were loose rocks on every path. Stone outcroppings frequently concealed mazes and other dangerous places for ambush. Every stream and river presented tactical problems. Kin could imagine Droon rising from the mud, shaking off his camouflage like a Special Forces commando who understood Kin's best tactics.
Dancing with Droon was dangerous at night. The Reaper was too fast, too strong, and could see in the dark. Kin faced the added difficulty of keeping his weary band together. He had to watch Clavender carefully and Rickson had to be kept close as well. This prevented them from spreading out. The Reaper would be able to find them in one place and pick his target. The midnight sojourn was foolhardy, but Clavender couldn’t wait. They had to reach Crater Town before she succumbed to the spell of the Reaper.
“She’s getting tired, Kin,” Rickson removed his travel cloak and wrapped it around her. The boy looked skinnier than usual, shivering in the cold night air.
Kin watched the scene and realized Rickson was deeply, hopelessly in love with Clavender.
She walked with the grace of a princess. Her arms hung at her side and swayed as her body moved to the rhythm of her stride. Moonshine and wormhole light reflected from her skin. Head held high, eyelids partially closed, she looked not so much as a woman hunted as a lover who dreamed of forbidden romance. Her brilliant white wings flared slightly from time to time.
“Come back to us, Clavender,” Kin said.
She looked over her shoulder and smiled.
“He is calling me,” she said.
“Wake up, Clavender. Stay with us,” Kin said.
“I am awake. I do not fear. The pain is gone because he needs me,” she said, with the look of a person who had been given a heavy narcotic after suffering a serious injury.
Kin shuddered. Her face had been a mask of pain.
“I can heal him.” Clavender spoke, but her words seemed like private thoughts, directed at neither Kin nor Rickson.
Kin understood Clavender had the heart of a healer and couldn’t turn away from a creature that suffered. This was a bad time for her to show her true nature. He searched the shadows for the glowing eyes of Droon, knowing that the Reaper would have them closed to slits to prevent the reflection of moonlight.
“Is he there?” Rickson asked, gripping the staff and staring wide eyed into the night.
Kin shook his head. “I don’t know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE glow of Crater Town promised salvation, but Kin understood they were farther from town and the Fleet than it seemed. He lost count of how many valleys and winding mountain trails they traversed.
Each day was long and arduous. He fantasized of stealing Fleet armor, but didn’t dare. An FSPAA unit wouldn’t function without the codes. And even if he had the codes, the units could transmit suspicious DNA profiles to Command. The Fleet designed the procedure to keep aliens from stealing technology, but the reason didn’t matter. All he needed was the FSPAA attempting to confirm his DNA and revealing him as the Traitor of Hellsbreach.
He’d need someone in the Fleet to cancel the computer alerts before powering the FSPAA unit. With Fleet armor, he’d be able to carry Clavender no matter how hard she fought him.
He was more likely to travel back in time than have such a gift handed to him.
“I cannot,” Clavender groaned. “He is too far away. Let me go!”
“Walk,” Rickson said, pulling her by the arm. Exhaustion showed and his voice revealed desperation. “You have to walk. I can’t carry you anymore.”
“Save your strength,” Kin said. “The Reaper will catch us. She’ll change her mind when he attacks.”
Minutes later, Clavender’s expression transformed. Kin instantly knew Droon had closed the distance they had fought so hard to obtain. He longed for the sight of Captain Raien and her company of looters—anyone with weapons, anyone crazy enough to take on a Reaper.
He pulled Clavender up and spoke in a low, calming voice. “Tell me about your father while we walk. It will take your mind off the Reaper.”
“Why is she like this?” Rickson asked.
“Toxins build in her blood the longer they’re apart. On Hellsbreach, Fleet scientists claimed female Reapers infect their mates with a virus, compelling them to stay and protect the mother and child during birth,” Kin said. “I never believed it, because I saw Reapers eating their young more than once. It’s more likely Droon poisoned her and his venom is also the antidote.”
“Why would he do that?”
“So he can hunt and terrorize his victim without the risk of her escaping.” Kin almost restrained himself from saying what came next, but the words left his mouth and couldn’t be taken back. “Their mating rituals are indistinguishable from their hunting rituals.”
Clavender stared at him wide eyed and hugged herself. Apparently, she was just as capable of fear as anyone. Few people remained sane after being a Reaper captive.
Kin could only guess what she had endured. He regretted the words. He was tired and making too many mistakes. His feet hurt. His stomach pitched and roiled from hunger.
“Am I poisoned?” she asked.
“What do you remember?”
She looked away. Kin saw her shame. There was a lot she wasn’t telling him.
“Where was he taking you?” Kin asked.
Without looking at him, she said, “He claimed he was taking me to a birthing pit.”
Rickson blushed and let out a breath he had been holding. He gripped his staff, twin expressions of anger and betrayal on his face.
Kin put one hand on the boy before returning his attention to Clavender. “The birthing pits are used for many things. When I was a captive, they put me in one to heal me.”
Tears ran from Clavender’s eyes. “I do not remember everything the Reaper said or did. The ordeal was a nightmare and I do not know when I was asleep or awake.” Clavender held herself tightly.
Kin had no reassurance to offer. He’d survived their cruel medical care and had seen Reaper women give birth. He had also seen Reapers tearing their young out of their wombs because the Fleet was coming and there was no time for a proper birth. Some of the mothers survived long enough to be gunned down and run over by Tanks. The Reaper babies had been tossed aside where they crawled into holes like humanoid lizards.
“We need to move as soon as we can. When he’s about to attack, he won’t worry about controlling your mind. I’ll keep him busy, and the two of you have to run.”
“Why don’t you just kill it?” Rickson asked, frustrated.
“A Reaper is easily a match for a man in Fleet armor. I don’t have armor and I’ve already tried to kill it twice.”
“Yeah, but you’re Kin Roland,” Rickson said. He took Clavender by the hand and began to drag her toward Crater Town. Kin watched them go. He listened for the Reaper and readied his weapons.
Droon charged up the trail, yellow eyes glowing and saliva dripping from bared teeth. Meteors streaked across the sky in the distance, too far away to illuminate the scene. Kin ignored the spectacular night sky. Morning was an hour away. If he could stay alive until then, things would get easier. Or so he promised himself.
He aimed the rifle, settled his breathing, and began to fire. Droon bound behind rocks and through shadows, never retreating. Kin knew he scored several hits, yet Droon barely flinched. Kin looked at the rifle to be sure he was handling a deadly weapon, then cast it aside. It was out of ammo now anyway. Pulling his pistol, he aimed at Droon with one hand and slid his sword free of the scabbard with the other.
“Come a little closer, and I’ll make these rounds count.” He needed to stall. Clavender and Rickson needed time to escape.
Droon snarled as he slowed his approach. “Kin-rol-an-da.”
“Droon,” Kin said.
“Kin-rol-an-da. Last Man on the planet.” Droon side stepped and measured the distance between them.
Kin adjusted his position to prevent Droon from running past him toward Rickson and Clavender. “That’s right. I was the last man on Hellsbreach.”
“You killed everyone.”
“I didn’t kill you.” Kin relaxed his arm and lowered his sword to one side. Reapers generally didn’t detect upward slash attacks.
Droon snapped his teeth together several times and shook his head violently. He didn’t seem to like Kin’s answer.
“So many dead. You burned thousands.”
“Keep talking, Droon. I have all night.” Kin moved closer, heart racing. The Reaper seemed distracted, confused. Kin thought he might have a chance to end this. Maybe Commander Westwood would show leniency if he brought back the head of a Reaper.
“Cla-ven-da.” Droon growled. “Cla-ven-da.” The Clingers covering his body twitched and jerked at his head, seeming to force him to look into the night. “Cla-ven-da!”
“Droon!” Kin shouted.
The Reaper focused on him, eyes growing intense. The Clingers rippled and jerked at him.
He seemed more aware—less like an animal ready to leap, and more like a general planning intrigue. Kin, who understood their minds better than anyone due to his captivity, knew their cunning. But the intelligence he saw now made Kin feel weak.
The Reaper smiled.
“I found Kin-rol-an-da. I’m the master of the Long Hunt.” He lunged forward, quick as a snake, and bit deep into Kin’s forearm. Blood gushed across his face and into his mouth.
The Reaper venom burned. Kin could almost see a link growing between them, a bond he hated. It felt unclean. Nightmares flashed in his vision. The Reaper’s mind battered against his.
Kin tried to pull back his arm, knowing he should have shot the Reaper instead, but unable to resist primal fear.
Get out of my head.
Kin twisted, but couldn’t break free. The Reaper’s mind invaded, rampaged unchallenged through memories, but what burned in his head were Droon’s memories. Kin recoiled from visions and clutched to hold what was his. Droon pillaged and stole something that had been with Kin since Hellsbreach.
“Get out of my head!”
Droon released him, stepping back to fight the Clingers into submission. Kin fell on his butt and cradled his wound, watching the power struggle with fatalistic interest. He had to get up. He couldn’t just sit. His arm numbed and blood congealed into a heavy, black scab, like new ski
n.
Reaper venom had never affected Kin like this. He felt Droon’s memories advancing and sensed madness in their wake. He focused on the scene before him. He studied every detail of the night that might distract him from the mental assault. He embraced pain. When none of it seemed to protect him, Kin clung to his own memories. What he found lurking in the corners surprised him.
AFTER Hellsbreach, Kin awoke in a hospital. He heard voices.
“We can’t just kill him. It doesn’t matter if he is alive or dead,” a voice said. “All they need is his blood. I have explained it a dozen times. Why won’t you listen?”
“They’ll never get him back. The mission failed, but the planet is quarantined,” a voice replied.
Kin turned his head, dragging tubes and wires that were attached to his head, neck, and face. He didn’t remember being injured. He had initiated his own version of the detonation sequence for the nuclear warheads and taken the launch shuttle into space to join the Fleet Armada.
Why am I in the hospital?
“That won’t last. The Fleet will move to another system. We have to burn him,” the first voice said.
“Or lose him.”
“Where can we lose a hero?” the first voice asked. “We must incinerate the body and launch his ashes into space.”
“That’s an idea.”
I can’t stay in the hospital. Droon is after Clavender. He sat up and realized the hospital room was a memory. The place looked like an interrogation chamber.
“How was I injured?” Kin asked.
The two men faced him, surprised.
“Damn it, Roland,” the owner of the first voice said. The emblem on the collar of his uniform identified him as a scientist for the Research Division, but he didn’t have a name tag. The second man wore civilian clothing, but stood like a general.
Kin sat up. Tubes attached to every part of his body. “Am I being interrogated?”
“No. There was an accident when your shuttle docked with our ship,” the General said.
Kin rubbed his face, aware that he shouldn’t pull his arms away from the bed. Tubes broke free and several machines began to beep. “I don’t remember an accident. I don’t remember anything after watching the first explosion on Hellsbreach.”