Outer Bounds: Fortune's Rising

by King, Sara

“That’s Anna,” Magali whispered, lowering her eyes. Anna wouldn’t have done something this stupid.

  “Oh?” the man raised a unruly white brow. “Then David raised two kids that could kill a starlope at two thousand yards with an antique projectile?”

  Anna had never made an accurate shot with anything, let alone a projectile weapon. Her child’s body just wasn’t ready to hold an adult-sized gun. Magali looked up.

  The old man read her reaction accurately. He grinned and slapped her on the back. Then he said the most earth-shattering words Magali had ever known.

  “Looks like Wideman was right. You are a killer. A damn good one, at that.”

  Magali swallowed, hard. Somewhere, in the background, she heard Wideman laughing.

  “You know, though,” the old man said, leaning distractedly on his gun, “We aren’t gonna survive this.”

  Magali nodded.

  “So you want me to do it or you?”

  She blinked up at him through tears. “Do what?”

  The old man gestured at the eggers. “Kill them. Which of us is gonna kill them?”

  Her mouth fell open and she couldn’t speak.

  “Listen,” the old man said, his eyes still filled with kindness, “I fought the Coalition on Redrock as a kid. I saw the things they did to prisoners. Back then, it was bad. Now…” He shook his head and his eyes flickered toward the entrance. “Last forty years, Nephyrs have got a lot nastier. A lot nastier. A lot of guys my age have seen it. They were cruel sons of bitches when I was a kid. Now, it’s like they made torture a culture of their own. Almost like they stopped being human. Started with the Yolk. They just went…bad.”

  “You want me to kill them?” Magali whispered.

  “One of us should,” the old man said. He crouched beside her, his eyes on the eggers. “You don’t wanna do it, I will. We certainly won’t be doing them any favors leaving them alive. Not after what we did today.”

  “I did most of it,” Magali said, squeezing her eyes shut against tears.

  “True,” the old man said, “But the rest of us didn’t stop you. That’ll be just as damning, in their eyes.”

  Magali’s desperation grew as she looked out over the huddled mass of crying eggers. Whimpers and broken sobs were penetrating the constant howl of the wind outside. “How?” she whispered.

  “Drive ‘em off the cliff,” the old guy said.

  Killer, Wideman giggled.

  Oh God. Magali imagined them teetering on the edge, imagined the long, horrible drop to the bottom of the Snake, imagined them emptying their lungs in a scream again and again before they hit the jagged rocks below… Magali squeezed her eyes shut, her terror of heights becoming a raw and burning ball in her throat. “I can’t.” She listened to the wind howling upon the entrance of the cliff and took a shuddering breath. “That’s too horrible. I can’t.”

  The old man lifted his rifle from the cavern floor and stood. “I’ll do it, then.” He turned toward the eggers.

  “No,” Magali said, getting to her feet. “We’re not killing them. No.”

  The old man’s face darkened in a frown. “Believe me, girl, if that starlope-skinning prick was right and your smuggler buddy isn’t coming back, then the only humane thing for us to do is going to be give these folk a merciful end before the Nephyrs get to them. Really. We leave them alive and they’re going to suffer.”

  What have I done? “I can’t kill them,” Magali whispered.

  He put a gentle, arthritic hand on her shoulder. “This ain’t a time to let your heart rule, girl. I speak from experience. These people are better off dead.”

  “Stop talking about them like they’re cattle!” Magali screamed, throwing off his grip. She was shaking all over, now. She was finding it hard to think. Then, taking a deep breath, she said, “No. We’ll strike a deal with the Nephyrs. I’ll give myself up if they promise they won’t hurt anyone else.”

  The old man threw back his head and laughed. “I can tell you ain’t never been in a war before, Landborn. ‘Cause that was one of the stupidest things I ever heard.” There was an underlying anger in his expression, now. “That’s like punching a Shrieker in the face and asking it not to Shriek. It’s gonna Shriek whether you want it to or not—just like Nephyrs are gonna kill these folks whether you want them to or not.” When he saw she wasn’t in agreement, he lowered his voice and said, “You should at least give them a choice, girl. Let them make their own decision, if you’re too soft-hearted to do it for them.”

  “No,” Magali gritted. She turned away from him in disgust.

  With a sadness in his words, the old man said, “Suit yourself, girl.” She heard him raise his gun.

  Magali pivoted and slammed her heel into the old man’s gut. His gun, which had been pointed at her chest, fell away as he tried to catch himself. As he was falling, she brought the pistol up, her finger hovering on the trigger. Every ounce of her wanted to pull the trigger.

  I’m not a killer, part of her whimpered. Yet she had killed fifteen men and women in the last ten hours. She had wounded two others, only to have her companions make the killing blows. It had been so easy, so natural…

  Anger and humiliation boiled in the man’s face as he looked up at her gun. “I was just gonna do you a favor, love. You wanna deal with this mess yourself? Fine. Then deal with it. I am not hanging around for the Nephyrs.” He brought the barrel of his gun to his chin.

  “Drop it!” Magali screamed.

  Completely oblivious to the pistol shuddering between them, the man said, “If you know what’s good for you, Landborn, you will do the right thing for these people.”

  She saw his fingers tighten on his weapon, saw him close his eyes.

  Magali shot him.

  As the man’s eyes were widening, the gun fell to the side, his fingers with it. His wide blue eyes moved from her face, slowly, to his hand. The first three fingers on his hand ending in bloody stumps.

  “You shot my hand!” he screamed at her.

  Magali kicked the rifle aside. “You can get someone to fix it later, after I make a deal and turn myself in.”

  His voice thick with disdain, he said, “You’re a fool.” He got up and started walking toward the cliff.

  “I can shoot off ankles just as easily,” Magali warned. When the old man just turned and stared at her, she said, “It’ll turn out okay. You’ll see.” It was more a plea than a promise.

  “It’s my choice,” the man snarled. “And I choose to die.”

  “I’m not a killer,” Magali said.

  “The Hell you ain’t!” the man snapped. “You’re as sadistic as your goddamn sister.”

  That hit her like a fist to the gut. As sadistic as Anna? Then, staring down the barrel of the gun at the man whose hand she had just maimed, a small voice asked, …am I?

  What if it was genetic? What if she really was like Anna, and had been all along? They were sisters, after all…

  You’re just a killer, Magali, Wideman cackled at her shoulder. Face it.

  No! Magali pounded his words from her skull. No I’m not.

  The old man’s eyes darkened horribly as he watched her. “And just as crazy, too.”

  Magali lowered her fist from her forehead and her eyes narrowed. She pointed at the group of eggers with her gun. “Get over there with the others.”

  “You’re gonna rot in Hell for this,” the old man snarled. He slumped to the ground near the eggers. He made no move to bind his wounded hand.

  “Magali?” Benny whispered, sidling up behind her. “Why did you just shoot Lars in the hand?”

  “It’s nothing,” Magali said. She lowered her gun, feeling suddenly ancient. She looked at the young boy and, seeing the confusion in his blue eyes, found herself saying, “Benny, if you had the choice between falling and hitting your head really hard or having Nephyrs kill you, what would you choose?”

  Benny got wide-eyed. He whispered, “The Nephyrs are going to kill me?”

  “No
,” Magali said. “But what would you choose?”

  “I’m scared of Nephyrs,” Benny said.

  From the darkness in the tunnel, someone laughed. “As you should be, little one.”

  Colonel Steele casually strode from the darkness, flanked by a dozen of his fellows. He stopped at the entrance to the cavern and his Nephyrs spread out in both directions. They glittered gold in the dawn light filtering across the Snake.

  Benny screamed.

  “Sounds like he’d choose the cliff,” Colonel Steele said, still smiling. Then the Nephyr cocked his head at Magali. “That was the choice you were giving him, wasn’t it? The cliff or the Nephyrs?”

  Magali swallowed, careful to keep the gun at her side. She could kill one, maybe even two, but she couldn’t kill them all.

  Colonel Steele seemed to read her mind, because he smiled.

  “So,” Colonel Steele said, stepping forward, “I couldn’t help but overhear you wanted to make us a deal.” He cocked his head as he moved around her. “You’re quite the shot, if the lifelines piled at the bottom of this cliff are any judge. Are you the one that killed my men?” He spoke almost as if they were old friends chatting over steaming cups of fora juice.

  Shaking, Magali nodded. Her whole body was cramping with terror, but she fought her instincts and said, “I did it. I want to trade myself for their safety.” She nodded with her chin at the eggers.

  The tall Nephyr continued to walk around her, forcing her to turn to keep him in sight. Colonel Steele seemed to be considering that as he looked at her body. “Any caveats?”

  “You do whatever you want to me, but you don’t hurt them,” Magali said. “They didn’t do anything.”

  Behind her, the old man lunged to his feet and sprinted for the cliff edge, but a Nephyr caught him and dragged him back before he even made it halfway. The woman casually threw him into the huddled group of eggers, then went to stand between them and the exit. Magali’s chest clamped in terror at the cyborg’s speed. Standing as close as he was, Magali realized she wouldn’t even have a chance to twitch her arm before Colonel Steele had her by the throat. Shaking, she looked down at her gun.

  “And we can do anything we want to you?” the Nephyr asked. “You’re sure?” Magali didn’t like his smile. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

  “Yes,” Magali whispered.

  Colonel Steele stopped circling and watched her. For a long moment, Colonel Steele said nothing as he considered. Then he said, “Give me your gun.”

  “I want you to promise you’re not going to—”

  “We aren’t going to kill any more eggers,” Colonel Steel snorted. “Nalle can’t report she lost all her eggers…it would make the bumbling moron lose face. We’ll satisfy ourselves with you as long as you don’t bore us.” He winked at her. “So better make it interesting, eh?”

  Magali felt the cold, psychotic nature of the man’s being all the way down her spine.

  Panic almost made her turn and sprint toward the exit. Instead, trembling, she handed over the gun. Huddled in the group of eggers, Lars began to cry. When she looked, she saw that one of the Nephyrs was forcibly bandaging his wounds.

  “Now those clothes that obviously don’t belong to you.” Colonel Steele was still smiling, but it was wrong, lifeless.

  Magali swallowed, but slowly started to peel off Martin’s bloodstained pants.

  The Nephyr’s eyes were fixed on the cluster of holes over her stomach. “That was the man’s heart, wasn’t it.” It wasn’t a question.

  Magali nodded.

  “Interesting. Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

  “It was close range,” Magali whispered, carefully setting the pants aside. The cold air from outside now hit the exposed flesh of her legs and she felt suddenly a hundred times more vulnerable than before. She squeezed her eyes shut. “Anyone can make that shot at close range.”

  “With this pistol?” The Nephyr snorted. “I don’t think so.” He gestured at her torso with it. “Now the top, please.” He sounded almost friendly, like a doctor who had just asked her to flex her knee. It was his leer of anticipation, however, that spoke the truth.

  Just like Anna, she realized, in horror. Magali suddenly found her fingers unable to grab the hem of Martin’s shirt, her arms unable to pull it over her head.

  “I would be happy to assist you, if you need the help.” The Nephyr was still smiling, though he wasn’t looking at her. He was inspecting the gun, wiping dirt and Shrieker slime from the crevices with the cuff-edge of his uniform.

  Trembling, Magali pulled the shirt over her head and dropped it to the ground.

  Colonel Steele finished his inspection of the pistol, then cocked his head at her. Seeing her cross her arms over her breasts, he smiled. Then he bent and retrieved the shirt on the ground. Holding it up, he said, “Whose shirt is this?”

  “He said his name was Martin,” Magali whispered.

  Colonel Steele’s hairless eyebrows went up. “You had a chance to talk to him before you killed him? My, aren’t you the happy little murderess.”

  Shame ate wormy holes in her stomach.

  Colonel Steele stuck his fingers through the singed holes of the shirt, examining it as the other Nephyrs stood back, waiting. The silence seemed ominous.

  “What are you going to do to me?” Magali whispered.

  Colonel Steele flipped Martin’s shirt inside-out and read the tag. He whistled. Then he held it up again. “Martin was a big boy. I don’t believe Nalle has any guards of that size on her rolls. He was a smuggler?”

  Magali nodded.

  Colonel Steele glanced over at her, curiosity in his sky-blue eyes. “And where is his ship?”

  “Runaway Joel took it,” Magali said.

  Colonel Steele laughed. “I see.” He neatly folded Martin’s shirt and stuffed it under one arm. Amicably, he said, “You’re afraid of heights, aren’t you, Magali?”

  Oh no, she thought.

  Colonel Steele’s gaze flickered to her face and he examined her expression before he casually went on, “Because I’ve been monitoring your heart-rate awhile, now, and every time you glance at the cliff edge, it spikes. Would it scare you to go over the cliff, Magali?”

  A shot of terror hit her core before Magali was able to suppress it. “No,” she forced herself to say.

  Colonel Steele grinned at her. “Your heart-rate just doubled. Is it a phobia?”

  “No,” she said. It came out as a whimper.

  “Oh, this is delightful,” Colonel Steele said, beginning to pace around her again. “Here you are, a murderess who just single-handedly slaughtered nine of my companions before shoving them over the edge, and you’re probably more afraid of that big bad cliff than you are of me, aren’t you?”

  Magali swallowed and said nothing. She couldn’t, because the fear of tumbling over the edge, alive, was so horrifying for her that she was finding it hard to breathe.

  Colonel Steele stopped pacing. She saw him come to a decision.

  Magali squeezed her eyes shut, already feeling his hands shoving her over the ledge, the wind against her skin, sucking the scream from her lungs. Oh God, oh God…

  Instead, Colonel Steele said, “We’ll definitely get to that.” His voice held cold promise. “Before we do anything else, I believe you gave that boy a choice. Bring him over here, please.”

  Magali jerked when she heard Benny’s terrified whimper. At first, Magali didn’t understand. Then, looking down into Benny’s terrified eyes as the Nephyr shoved him at her, Magali’s gut suddenly cramped. “You promised you wouldn’t kill them,” she whispered.

  “I did,” Colonel Steele said. “Which is why you’re going to do it.” He cocked his head at the child, his paternal smile beaming down at the boy. “I believe he chose the cliff.” Then he returned his gaze to Magali, waiting, amusement glittering in his glacial eyes.

  Magali felt such a sudden rush of vertigo that she fell to one knee, shaking. “No,” she whimpered.


  “Unless, of course, you’d like for me to do something special to him, instead.” The Nephyr reached out, grabbed Benny by the shoulder, and pinched a spot on the boy’s arm. Ben began to scream, and as the boy flailed in the Nephyr’s grip, a strip of skin broke away and began to peel up his arm.

  “No!” Magali screamed. She lunged forward and grabbed Benny. “No, please. He’s just a boy.”

  Colonel Steele flicked the little strip of flesh aside, his perfect smile still in place. “That’s just a taste of what’s in store for him if you don’t do as you’re told, little one.”

  “I can’t,” Magali whispered, hugging the sobbing boy to her chest. “I can’t.”

  “You can,” Colonel Steele said. His eyes hardened as he continued, “Or you will watch him scream his lungs bloody as we peel him like an orange.”

  Magali shook her head and buried her face in the boy’s shoulder.

  Colonel Steele sighed and reached for the boy again.

  “No!” Magali screamed, dragging Benny back a step. “No.” Shaking, she kept backing away, until she was halfway to the cliff edge. Once he saw the direction she was headed, Colonel Steele stopped following and watched, like an interested parent. The other Nephyrs stood positioned around the edge of the cave, witnessing the proceedings with sick little grins of curiosity.

  Magali got down on one knee and held Benny out. The child was still screaming hysterically, one hand clamped to the bloody spot on the skin that the Nephyr had torn away.

  “You’re gonna be fine,” Magali whispered, looking over the boy’s shoulder at the cyborgs lining the cavern. Please, God, some sort of miracle.

  “I’ll give you, say, nine minutes to get him over the edge,” the tall Nephyr said, still smiling. “One minute for every one of my men you killed.” He paused, watching her. “If you don’t get him over the edge in nine minutes, our deal is forfeit and I’ll start entertaining myself in other ways. If a little pinch on his arm makes him howl like that, just imagine what we could do with some…more sensitive areas.” The Nephyr smiled at the boy and stepped forward to pat a cheek affectionately.

  Benny screamed a long, terrified howl and lunged back into her arms. His thin form was shaking and Magali held him.