by Jay Allan
By the time the man resumed advancing Caleb had reached him. He grappled him from behind and with a fierce wrench snapped his neck.
He dropped the body and kneeled beside her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded weakly, staring at him in the darkness with wide eyes and dilated pupils. A knot of dread began pooling in his chest. He didn’t—
“Behind you!” It came out as a cracked whisper of a shout.
He spun as he stood, right leg swinging up with the motion.
His heel smashed into a wrist and jarred a Daemon out of the attacker’s grip as it fired. The laser stream skidded off the hood of the skycar, cutting the front in two and burning across the wall of the neighboring building.
His opponent delivered a left hook to his jaw. His head jerked, but the overload of adrenaline meant he didn’t notice the jolt of pain. He kneed the attacker in the stomach while he shifted his grip on the blade, then plunged it into the man’s gut.
The attacker stuttered in surprise, but the angle had been too low and he wouldn’t be dead for a while yet. Running on his own adrenaline, the man clawed at Caleb’s face in search of an eye socket in which to jam a thumb.
He pulled the man into a bear hug, shoved the blade in deeper and forced it upward, slicing him open a centimeter at a time.
When the man finally sagged lifelessly in his grasp, he tossed the body to the side.
“We need to leave, now. Let’s get to the bike.”
Getting no response, he turned to Alex. Even in the dim light he could see all the color had drained from her face. She clung to the frame of the vehicle as she haltingly climbed to her feet. Her gaze roamed around wildly, looking at anything except him.
In an adrenaline-fueled combat state everything was knocked off-kilter. Time moved rapidly and slowly all at once. Light and shadow gained contrast, and the world appeared as an over-processed image, full of sharp edges and too-crisp colors. Movement leapt out as jagged gashes against a frozen frame.
He struggled past all this to see what she saw.
Three dead bodies lay within four meters. Blood pouring from two of the bodies pooled to join together and creep inexorably toward them.
Intestines spilled forth out of one; the flickering illumination from the riverwalk created the illusion of slimy tentacles slithering forward in the treacherous shadows.
The third corpse’s head was twisted at an impossible angle upon the ground, eyes open to stare blankly at her and into the void.
He stood before her coated in repulsive bodily fluids. He felt the warm stickiness of blood streaked along one cheek, across his chin, dribbling down his neck.
Without a doubt, it was an utterly horrific panorama of violence and death. A tableau of nightmares.
And as he watched her recoil from the gruesome scene—and him—his heart plummeted then left him entirely. The moment he had always dreaded, worked to ensure never came to pass while trying his damnedest to pretend it never would, met him full on in her shell-shocked eyes and blanched face.
It occurred to him that perhaps Mia had been right after all. Which only made it so, so much worse.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “We have to get away from here, and quickly. It’s not safe. Will you come with me?”
Having reached a standing position, she gave a semblance of a nod.
Taking it as assent, he headed for the bike several rows further in…and realized there had been no jagged gash in his peripheral vision. She had made no move to follow him. His chin dropped and his eyes squeezed shut so tightly halos flared in the blackness.
He forced them open to gaze at her.
“Please.”
“Right….” She shook her head roughly and gingerly pushed off the vehicle, skittering to the side of the encroaching pools of blood to trail behind him at a distance.
When they reached the bike he had to remind her to put on the helmet wrap. Her hands rested warily midway around his waist; he felt them trembling through the cloth of his overshirt.
He wanted to scream and rage. He wanted to hit something and kill a few more people. He wanted to grab her and shake her and beg her with every ounce of his soul to not react like this…
…but he knew it was already far too late. And the rest of his body and brain were still in combat mode and he had to get them to safety.
“Alex, you need to hold on tighter, okay?” His voice sounded hollow and strained, like a too-taught string on an antique violin.
But she complied. He pulled out of the lot and onto the street.
They’d go back to Division, where security was high, then…well, he didn’t know what then. He didn’t know if she’d consent to go anywhere with him after this. If not, he could…he could send an escort to accompany her to the spaceport and she would be able to leave. Go to Romane, and from there, Earth.
He tried to focus on the road. The artificial lighting had returned to normal; in his distorted vision the added light gave the surroundings a washed out, achromatic sheen.
It was what it was. It was done and there was nothing in the universe which could change it. He accepted the deadening of his heart and began prepping the stoic mask he would desperately need in the coming hours.
He sent Volosk a message to let him know they were on their way and under assault.
Message unable to be delivered. Recipient is not connected to exanet infrastructure. Message will be queued until it can be delivered.
Fucking bloody fuck.
And just like that everything became considerably more complicated. If they weren’t the only ones being targeted….
But for the moment, a single thing mattered: staying alive. Her staying alive.
He broadcast a local Division alert and slowed as they neared HQ. The information relayed to him indicated Volosk’s last recorded action was to leave the office to run an errand.
He swung to the rear and came to a stop alongside the building across from the entrance.
Alex stumbled off the bike, sending another dagger into his soul.
It didn’t matter.
He kept his voice low. “Stay here a minute. I need to make sure the way is clear.” She nodded mutely and backed into the wall. The void in his chest swelled to a yawning chasm at the sight of her looking at him in such a manner, shrinking away from him.
It didn’t matter.
He peered around the corner, blade at the ready. He saw no movement nor anything out of the ordinary—save for the lump on the ground near the reserved area where the subdivision directors parked.
He knew what awaited him as he approached from the shadows.
Michael Volosk lay on his back in a pool of blood, one arm fractured at the elbow and the other wrenched behind his head. He had fought his attacker, if to no avail.
His throat had been sliced clean through from ear to ear by a gamma knife. His eyes stared blankly into the void, no different in death than the assailant’s at the park.
Caleb blew out a harsh breath, his hand coming up to abuse his jaw. Volosk was an honorable, decent man. He had a wife and two young children and a spotless record. What reason did they have to kill him?
He spun around at the echo of footsteps, arm cocked and blade raised. But it was her. His arm dropped to his side.
She approached with caution, her focus locked on the body of the man she had met mere hours earlier—until it darted jerkily up to him.
God, she looked so scared.
He would give the wealth of nations to be able to convince her she never need be afraid of him. But he had no such wealth to give.
“He can’t have been dead long or someone would have found him. The attackers might still be nearby.” He glanced at the Division building, at the door fifteen meters across the lot. “I think we should get out of here, to the ship. It isn’t safe, even here. If they got to him this close to Headquarters, they could have gotten inside.”
He gazed at her imploringly. “Will you do that? Will you go with me to
the spaceport at least? From there you can…whatever you want. But I need to get you to safety.”
She blinked. “Of course….” She took a step, faltered and sank against the wall grasping clumsily at her right side.
“What is it? Are you hurt?”
“Yeah…I…I got nicked back there at the park…it’s fine though…cybernetics will take care of it….”
Then her legs buckled beneath her.
He had already been moving and reached her a split-second before she hit the ground. One hand slid under her head, much as it had in another, far, far better circumstance.
He eased her down. “Alex? Alex, talk to me.”
Nothing. She had lost consciousness.
He carefully shifted her arm out of the way. Her sweater was soaked through with blood. It blended into the deep purple of the material, which was why he hadn’t seen it until now.
A frantic breath fell from his lips. “Oh, baby, no….”
Time screeched to a halt while he oh-so-gently rolled her onto her side. The back of the sweater was soaked in blood as well.
He lifted the sweater up to reveal entry and exit wounds. They lay in a direct trajectory, above her hip. The laser had traveled straight through and at a location which in all probability missed any vital organs.
Okay.
He willed what combat mode still remained to the forefront. Time resumed its skewed rapid slow progression forward.
There was a med kit inside, but there may also be assassins inside—or worse, traitors from within. If they were being hunted a hospital represented a death trap, and his apartment was doubtless being watched.
The rental ship had a Grade III med kit on board. If her cybernetics and genetic enhancements were as advanced as he was certain they must be, it would be enough.
If he got her to it soon.
The bike was clearly out. Something he could walk away from.
He stood, walked six meters and broke into the nearest vehicle. He rummaged through the compartment; as expected, there was a gym bag. Division employees loved their workouts, if solely for the stress relief they provided.
He tore it open and removed a t-shirt, climbed out and rushed back to her. With a rip of the seam the shirt became a long strip of cloth which he wound around her abdomen and secured over both wounds to staunch the bleeding.
He gathered her up in his arms.
Though he had endeavored to smother any emotions beneath an iron façade, a cry found its way to the surface when she sagged bonelessly against him.
He choked it off in his throat as he positioned her in the passenger seat and secured the harness over her. Then he bolted to the driver’s side, scrambled in and hacked the controls.
The instant the engine fired he lifted into the air and accelerated toward the spaceport at reckless speed.
CHAPTER 60: Erisen
Earth Alliance Colony
Kennedy exited the lift at the top floor of IS Design’s offices, heels clack-clacking on the marble floor as she strode across the wide foyer. The deep green business suit she wore was cut rather conservatively, though at least it complimented her eyes, and her hair was uncharacteristically pulled up in a dress knot—a few minor concessions to the stodgy formality of a Board of Directors meeting.
The secretary smiled as she approached. “You’re expected, Ms. Rossi. You can go right on in.”
“Thank you, Nance. Oh, before I forget, congratulations on your daughter being accepted to MIT. I know you must be proud.”
The woman beamed. “Very much so, though I will miss her. Thank you again for the personal recommendation. I’m sure it helped quite a lot.”
Her grin held a hint of teasing. “I’m sure it had far more to do with her accomplishments, but I’m glad if I helped out a tiny bit.”
She gave Nance a wink and continued into the boardroom. The four men and three women were engaged in a heated discussion over new efficiency measures, so she quietly took a seat along the wall.
It was several minutes until the conversation quieted down and the chairman motioned to her. “Ms. Rossi, thank you for coming.”
She stood and approached the empty end of the table. “My pleasure. I’m glad to have the opportunity to—”
“A situation has arisen regarding a materials supplier which we’d like you to turn your attention toward.”
What? She was here to present the final specs on the EM reverse shield. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m not clear on—”
“You’re aware the Surno Materials facility on Aquila was destroyed by the Senecans yesterday?”
“Yes, sir. Most unfortunate. I know they were a major supplier of ours.”
“Not merely of ours. They were also a significant supplier of metamaterials to the Alliance military. Now the Alliance is busily soaking up the remaining available supply from other manufacturers.”
He glanced a little nervously around the table. “Of course this company has a long history and tradition of supporting the Alliance, and we stand fully behind the war effort. But the fact remains we will also need supplies if we expect to deliver on existing orders, not to mention future ones.”
She couldn’t help but frown. “Without a doubt. But while Surno was a reliable supplier, there are numerous metamaterial manufacturers on Alliance worlds and friendly independent ones.”
“Yes, and they are all now being courted heavily by our competitors and every other provider of space-worthy end products.”
“Ah, well, I can see the difficulty. However, as Director of the Design and Prototyping Division, I’m not certain how I might be able to help.”
One of the directors, Amanda Vashi, clasped her hands on the table. “We recognize it isn’t your normal area of focus. But your, shall we say, ‘social’ talents and networking connections are well known and respected, by this Board and the community at large. Combined with the stature of your family, we believe you would make an excellent ambassador for the company and a shrewd negotiator.”
She suppressed a laugh; that had to be the most polite way of saying ‘you’re very attractive, can work a cocktail party like nobody’s business and excel at fooling powerful men into believing you’re flirting with them’ she had ever heard. “I’m flattered, Ms. Vashi, but there are a number of important projects ongoing in DPD right now which I would hate to neglect.”
The chairman smiled in his usual annoying, condescending manner. “Certainly there are, but I’m sure they will survive a couple of days without your direct guidance. We want you to go to Messium and persuade the president of Palaimo Metallurgy to supply us a minimum of sixty percent of our metamaterial requirements for the next year—for reasonable and fair compensation, naturally.”
Her weight shifted to her back foot and she crossed her arms over her stomach, deciding she could stand to lose a bit of deference. “Can’t those negotiations be conducted over holo? I really don’t see the need for a personal visit.”
“Palaimo’s president is something of a prima donna, I’m afraid. And he is, as I noted earlier, being wooed by other companies as well. We believe a personal touch and a touch of extra attention will be required to make the deal happen.”
She pursed her lips together to swallow annoyance. She didn’t particularly want to trek all the way out to Messium to kiss some self-important corporate executive’s ass. But she didn’t see how it was particularly up to her either. With a silent sigh she nodded and gave the chairman a brilliant if somewhat plastic smile.
“Then I am happy to assist the company in any way I can. I’ll make the arrangements today.” She looked around at the directors. “If there’s nothing else, I’d like to give my presentation now.”
“Absolutely, Ms. Rossi. Please, continue.”
“Thank you.” She sent the presentation to the large screen above the table. “As you may recall from my earlier visit, the proposed EM reverse shield is intended—”
Nance burst into the room. The woman’s eyes were wide, and she appe
ared out of breath though she couldn’t have run more than a few meters.
“Turn on the news feed! Alliance Strategic Command has been destroyed!”
CHAPTER 61: Space, Northwest Quadrant
Orellan Stellar System
The 2nd Regiment of the 4th Brigade of the Earth Alliance NW Regional Command patrolled the Fionava-Balta-Orellan corridor, as had been its duty for more than a decade. Periodic superluminal traversals ended randomly to avoid predictable patterns and were interspersed with lengthy periods of impulse propulsion. Of course this being the Earth Alliance military, ‘randomly’ actually meant one of seven predetermined sequences.
Lieutenant Colonel Malcolm Jenner paced in front of the CO chair as the seconds counted down to the shift from superluminal to normal impulse propulsion. They would be at full ready when the transition occurred, as always, but particularly so after the EASC bombing hours earlier had put the entire fleet on Level IV alert status.
He had been the commanding officer of the EAS Juno for all of twenty-three days, and ready state still made him apprehensive. It wasn’t like commanding ground forces, where you could hear and smell and sense the situation you were heading into—where even as a commander you had a weapon in your hand and at least the illusion of control over your own fate.
Here, standing on the deck of a starship in the void of space, he could request information and give orders but do little else to affect his fate or that of his men. It was one reason he disliked space, but only the latest one.
He had tried to comprehend the appeal, to grasp the wonder and amazement others felt toward the stars. For Alex, he had tried. But he had failed.
It wasn’t as if he was a luddite; he embraced humanity’s continued advancement as much as anyone. He simply preferred the sensation of soil beneath his feet and wind in his hair, of fresh, non-recycled air which carried on it the scent and taste of life. He preferred what was solid and real, where if you could see it you could touch it, feel its texture between the tips of your fingers. As far as he knew, no one had ever touched a star.