Only then did Rug act. As she retreated down the cave a little, the creaking sound from before continued, followed by a resonant groaning. Next, the bars were ripped from their rock frame by an unseen force to slam against the opposite wall of the tunnel.
Lisa motioned for the others to follow her out.
Looks like I won’t have to sleep on those awful rocks after all.
“Good job,” Lisa whispered as she neared Rug, throwing her arms around the Quatro’s neck.
But Rug wasn’t out of surprises. Behind her, the militia’s guns were stacked, along with their combat knives, grenades, and other equipment they’d taken with them from the shuttle.
“Rug…how did you…?”
But the alien turned, walked down the tunnel toward the exit, and glanced back at them before continuing a little farther. Clearly, she wanted Lisa and the others to follow.
They collected their weapons, and Lisa stowed as many grenades around her person as she could fit. Once they’d given their guns a once-over, they crept after Rug, weapons at the ready.
It didn’t take long to figure out what had given Rug the opportunity to spring them from their prison. A Gatherer sprang out of the darkness at the Quatro, and she batted it out of the air to explode against the tunnel wall.
With that, the Quatro shot a meaningful look back at Lisa.
“Rug, look out!” Lisa said, pointing.
Without the translator, Rug couldn’t understand Lisa’s words, but the panicked tone and the gesture seemed sufficient to convey her meaning.
The Quatro turned to behold what Lisa had seen: a host of Gatherers, stretching into the darkness, advancing on their position. A sea of wicked blades writhed at the end of steely tendrils.
Lisa opened fire.
Chapter 35
The Altar of Expansion
Lisa couldn’t deliver orders to Rug, and so she had to structure her troop movements around the Quatro, with the hope that she knew enough about squad tactics to complement Lisa’s efforts rather than hinder them.
“Spread out, two to each side of Rug,” she barked, putting two rounds into a Gatherer, which didn’t seem to have much effect.
“Rug will take point, but do not use her as cover. Instead, provide each other with covering fire, and use Rug as an anchor for your formation.”
Three of the soldiers responded with “Yes, ma’am,” though Tessa only offered a curt nod.
During their first battle with the Gatherers, Lisa had developed a hunch about their structure. Based on the varying effects her bullets had had then, she’d begun to suspect they were weaker on top than they were from any of their sides—which made sense. Their forward and side carapaces had to be extra-hard, for clearing obstructions as efficiently as they did.
But the tunnel grew narrower, and with her five soldiers spread out in a single rank, Lisa was having difficulty getting many shots in around them.
Though the tunnel was narrow, the ceiling hung pretty far overhead…
Lisa tapped Rug’s haunches with the butt of her SL-17’s handle.
The Quatro glanced back at her, and Lisa gestured at the ground in a lowering motion.
After a few seconds, during which Lisa was pretty sure Rug’s expression was some version of Are you really asking me to do this, the Quatro dropped to her stomach, allowing Lisa to clamber onto her back.
She quickly shimmied to the front, near the Quatro’s neck, and grabbed a tuft of fur to stabilize herself. The effort caused her shoulder wound to send shooting pain throughout her torso, but she ignored it.
Briefly, she was reminded of riding behind Andy on his hoverbike while gunning down Daybreak goons. She leveled her assault rifle at one of the Gatherers.
Success. Instead of absorbing two clips’ worth of bullets before it popped, the Gatherer fragmented after a short burst.
She shifted her muzzle toward another target, then squeezed off another short burst. This time, it took two of them.
By the time she’d neutralized a third, and then a fourth, Lisa had realized that her shots had a greater effect the closer to the center she placed them.
Good. Maybe now we won’t go through our entire supply of ammo only to take out a dozen Gatherers.
Well, their supplies weren’t quite that limited, but they were far from unlimited, either.
“Shoot for the very center of each Gatherer’s top,” she yelled over the tumult of gunfire and the metallic clanging of the robots. “It takes a lot less to make ’em pop, that way.”
Lisa wondered how many times she could work the phrase “make ’em pop” into conversation today. She liked saying it.
The tide of Gatherers seemed never-ending, but with their improved targeting, the six militia soldiers managed to keep them at bay.
Then, from a side tunnel up ahead, two Quatro—also soldiers of Lisa’s militia—came charging through the Gatherers, ignoring the blades that stabbed and smacked at them to trample the robots with their sheer weight.
The Quatro’s near-kamikaze run instantly changed the battle, turning it into a rout. It also taught Lisa that the Gatherers were capable of fear, or at least of some manner of self-preservation instinct:
The robots retreated.
The two Quatro, Nail and Fan, were bleeding from dozens of wounds, with scarlet streaming down their heaving flanks.
“That was very brave,” Lisa told them. “Thank you.” But Nail’s translator had also been taken, and Fan hadn’t had one since before his drift was stranded on Eresos. Both Quatro only stared at Lisa, their expressions unchanging.
Shrugging, Lisa pushed down the tunnel, her newly bolstered squad backing her up close behind.
Without warning, the tunnel opened up into an enormous cavern, where the floor sloped steeply toward the center, though with wide platforms of level rock here and there.
Campfires dotted the gloom, and upwards of two hundred Quatro were locked in furious combat with what seemed like ten times their number in Gatherers.
The moment Lisa entered, one of the battling Quatro was forced back into one of the fires, and its shrieks echoed off the walls.
Lisa and her companions joined the fight without hesitation, hitting an exposed Gatherer flank hard.
It took the better part of an hour, and a lot of Quatro were slain, but at last they achieved victory against the invaders.
Lisa mourned the felled Quatro, but she also gave silent thanks that no one else from her militia had been killed. She doubted she could have taken that, today.
Shortly after the last Gatherer fell, Lisa came face to face with the Quatro who’d spoken with her through her cell’s bars.
“We thank you for your assistance in protecting our home, two-legs,” the Quatro said, sounding grudging.
“You’re welcome,” Lisa said, crossing her arms. “Are you going to ask us to surrender our firearms and return to jail, now?”
The Quatro had no answer for that, it seemed.
“May I borrow the translator? I would address your drift.” Lisa held out her hand.
Another long silence passed.
At last, the translator became unfastened, without any visible action from the Quatro. It clattered to the rock floor. The Quatro’s eyes never left Lisa’s.
She stepped forward and picked it up, fastening it around her own neck, though of course the translator drooped far down her chest. Her neck was somewhat thinner than a Quatro’s.
Casting her gaze at the host of Quatro assembled before her, Lisa said, “I come from Alex, where I had a fairly cushy job with Darkstream. If you haven’t heard of them, they’re the ones currently slaughtering Quatro in droves to the west of here.”
A long silence settled in after those words, too, and she let it, praying that the implications of her words were also settling in.
You Quatro carry nearly as much blame for those deaths as humans do.
But she didn’t say that, not yet, and she hoped she wouldn’t have to. “I was on a promi
sing career track with Darkstream. My future was bright. My job was easy, too—I thought it was hard, but it was incredibly easy, and I could have phoned it in for the rest of my life while making piles of credits.” She glanced at Tessa, then, before returning her gaze to the Quatro.
“I abandoned that career,” Lisa went on, “when I realized how dangerous Darkstream is to the people living in this system. Both human and Quatro. They’re bent on constant expansion, and they’re willing to sacrifice the happiness and prosperity of regular people on the altar of that expansion.
“I sacrificed my future because I didn’t want to be a part of the death machine they’ve created. Now, I’ve devoted myself to stopping that machine. If you consider it a worthy pursuit to prevent the suffering and death of thousands more innocent humans and Quatro, then I hope you’ll join me in my fight.”
Lisa unfastened the translator, held out her hand with her fingers downward, and let the device drop onto the cave floor. With that, she walked away.
Suddenly, she realized what she’d just argued for: self-sacrifice for the good of the group. And when she thought about it, that was exactly what she’d been doing ever since turning against Darkstream back on Alex.
All right, she thought. All right. In certain, very select cases, it’s the right thing to do. But only very seldom.
And anyway, the Quatro tended to take the principle way too far.
Lisa glanced over her shoulder at the aliens gathered in the cavern, who’d begun to murmur among themselves in their strange language, which reminded her of both purring and growling at the same time.
I wonder whether I convinced them.
Chapter 36
Scratching an Itch
The drift that had captured Lisa and her companions deliberated for a long time, and without access to her translator, Rug wasn’t able to fill Lisa in on the proceedings.
All the Quatro could do was stare at her meaningfully, except her expressions didn’t actually mean anything to Lisa, because they belonged to an alien whose body language she was still a long way from deciphering, despite their close friendship.
At last, the Quatro stepped forward who’d spoken to her through the bars of her former cell—and possibly her future cell, depending on what was about to happen.
The approaching Quatro appeared to be the leader of this drift. Lisa knew the Quatro weren’t supposed to have leaders, but apparently they’d abandoned the “Quatro way,” so maybe that meant they did other things differently, too.
“Your words have moved us,” the Quatro said when it neared. “Not only to join your fight, but to send runners to the other drifts in this area, who until now have shared our attitude toward the unrest in the west. Hopefully, if our messengers convey your words as effectively as you spoke them, we can sway them, too.”
“Hopefully,” Tessa said, then stalked off.
Grimacing, Lisa thanked the Quatro and then ran after the white-haired woman.
“Tessa. Wait.”
“Why?” Tessa said without turning or slowing. “You’ve achieved everything you set out to achieve, using everything I’ve taught you. What more do we have to say to each other?”
“Will you stop?” Lisa said, her voice coming out sharper than she’d meant it to.
Tessa whirled around, her arms crossed, glaring. “Well?”
Stopping a few meters away from Tessa, Lisa studiously kept her hands at her sides, though her impulse was to cross them as well.
“I should hope we have plenty more to say to each other, Tessa. We’re friends, and we’ve been friends for a long time.”
“We haven’t acted like friends. Not since…”
“Not since I learned yet another secret about you?”
Tessa’s head jerked. “What do you mean, another—”
“I mean that we’re supposed to be friends, close friends, and yet you failed to tell me two things that are probably among the most important facts about you. Back in Habitat 2, I learned you worked for Three Points, and I overlooked that you kept that from me, even though we’d spent so much time together. And when we arrived on Eresos, I learned that you helped Darkstream frame the Quatro as ruthless killers. It’s not the fact that you did that which bothers me, Tessa—the past is the past, and I understand that you’ve changed over the last twenty years. It’s the fact that, after everything we’ve gone through together…almost dying on Alex, imprisoned by aliens we didn’t even know were there, retaking Habitat 2 from Daybreak, defeating Darkstream to escape to Eresos…even after all that, it still took Gabriel Roach for me to learn the truth about you.”
Tessa’s face had turned scarlet, and Lisa felt sure she was about to explode. If Tessa did that, she wasn’t sure they could go on being friends, no matter how much Lisa liked her.
If, after I bare my heart to her, she lambastes me…
But Tessa didn’t do that. Instead, she took several deep breaths, and gradually, the color drained from her face, restoring it to what Lisa was pretty sure was her regular color—it was difficult to tell in the gloom of the tunnel.
“You’re right, Lisa,” the older woman said at last. “That’s hard for me to say, because I’m not using to being wrong. I’m used to being surrounded by idiots. But…you’re right. And I’m sorry.”
Lisa stepped forward to embrace her friend, and Tessa allowed it, which she also hadn’t expected.
They drew apart, and Lisa cast her eyes down at the tunnel floor. “I haven’t behaved very well, either,” she said. “The strain of command has been getting to me, and I’ve been taking it out on you. That wasn’t right, no matter how upset I was with you. I’m sorry, too.”
“Hey,” Tessa said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We forgive each other. Now let’s put it behind us and go put down Darkstream. That’s an itch I’ve been waiting a long time to scratch.”
A smile crept over Lisa’s face. “You got it.”
Chapter 37
Data Dump
Ash sifted through the data dump DuGalle had sent her, using a panel in the upper left of her vision to process its contents as best she could.
Unfortunately, most of her attention was demanded by tracking Roach and navigating through the forest; taking care not to barrel into a tree big enough to repel her MIMAS.
Roach, it seemed, didn’t have that problem. Whereas before, when he’d run alongside Oneiri through the woods, he’d chosen his path with care, now it seemed erratic.
They found several thick trees that were little more than cracked-off stumps, with the rest of the tree obliterated. The juggernaut that was the alien mech was powerful enough that nothing seemed able to stop it.
What information Ash’s fragmented attention did allow her to glean from DuGalle’s transfer disturbed her deeply.
When she’d seen enough, she used her implant to contact Bronson, which she’d been putting off.
“Sweeney,” he said as he appeared beside her, darting through the trees. “What do you have for me?”
What do I have for you, Bronson? It was a fine question, and it would be some time before she fully developed the answer.
“Roach betrayed us,” she said. “He murdered Richaud, in the middle of a battle.”
“God. Seriously?” Bronson did a good job of feigning shock and distress as he ran alongside her in the dream, but Ash knew that any negative reaction he had to the news would be limited to how it would look on the company’s ledger.
“Yes, Captain. Really.”
“Well, where’s Roach now?”
“En route to the nearest village, it seems. We’re following him.”
“Good. Definitely keep doing that.” Bronson palmed something from his cheek. “He has to be stopped. This could easily turn into a PR disaster if we don’t deal with it early.”
“Not to mention the lives that will likely be lost.”
“Yes, another tragedy, to be sure.” Bronson’s likeness seemed distracted, as though the actual Bronson was focusing on s
omething else while he spoke with Ash. “Two reserve battalions are already in the area, and I’m sending them to rendezvous with you at…River Rock, I’m guessing? Seems to make sense, judging by your trajectory, which will take you out of the Glades and toward the edge of the Barrens. Is River Rock right, Sweeney?”
“That’s the one.”
“Perfect. I’d advise against engaging until they’ve joined you.”
“And what do you plan to do in the meantime, sir?”
“Huh?” Bronson blinked up at her. “Me? I’m working on a way to beat the machines, Sweeney. There have been a dozen more reports from all over the region of Gatherers attacking residents. If this becomes a pattern, we’re going to have a real Charlie Foxtrot on our hands.”
“Yeah.” Ash paused to consider what her next words should be.
“Will that be all, Seaman?”
“Well, it looks like Red Company has disbanded.”
“That’s welcome news. I needed that. How’d you come across it?”
“I spoke to their leader. He was at Peppertree, during the Quatro attack. He…” Ash drew a breath.
“Something on your mind, Sweeney?”
“Sir, he told me that Darkstream started the war with the Quatro. He said we paid Red Company to put on company uniforms and attack them, and afterward, we paid them to deliver arms to the aliens.”
“Oh? Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that. Must have been another department.”
Abruptly, Ash stopped running to stare at Bronson.
His simulacrum stopped too, smiling up at her. “That was a joke, Sweeney. Obviously I don’t know about it, because it didn’t happen.”
She shook her head, not sure what to think, or to say. At last, she found words: “He gave me documents to back up what he said.”
“Then they’re forged. Darkstream wouldn’t do something like that, Sweeney. You know that.”
Ash studied Bronson’s face. Could he really be that masterful at lying? Or could the documents actually have been forged? Certainly, the technology existed to do that, but a data dump this size would have taken weeks of nonstop work to concoct. She supposed it was possible, but Red Company had had limited resources as it was, and she wasn’t sure they’d have had access to the sophisticated tech required to forge video and audio. Besides, if they’d wanted to damage Darkstream’s reputation, a single, well-executed video would have sufficed. The sheer number of documents DuGalle had given her spoke of truth.
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