The passage of time seemed to waver and she found herself standing at the pedestal. Hesitantly checking the edges. At length she found a switch and a fresh spike of terror gripped her. Was there an alarm? Was it a destruct switch?
Was it a trap?
She fumbled with the small rocker.
And the case slid open.
She gasped.
Suddenly the Icon was right there. Nothing between her and the device but air. Shiny. Real.
Freedom.
Escape.
Right there in front of her.
A noise made her jump out of her skin.
The Shogun had begun to gasp, getting his breath.
No!
Suddenly possessed, an all-consuming rage roaring out of nowhere, she charged him and … kicked him right in the face as he tried to sit. Blood shot from his nose, splattering, but the blow seemed to revive him and it looked like he was about to yell. She kicked him again, wanting to destroy him. Her vision went red and she kicked him flat, then stomped his head, blood flecking her feet and ankles as she kicked and stomped, alternating, one foot to the other, banging his skull until he was long past quiet, blood running from ears, nose and eyes. Finally she stopped and stood over him. Seething, working to reign in the surging lust for the kill.
Sharply she looked to the senior officer.
He wasn’t moving. And as she realized this her hot-running blood went to ice—freezing as quickly as it boiled. The officer’s eyes were half-open; vacant. He wasn’t breathing. Dead. Definitely dead. She looked down at the Shogun. In her panic she couldn’t tell whether he was breathing or not. I’m a murderer!
She’d killed these two in cold blood. And …
The men in the city.
The Dominion soldiers in the compound.
For a moment she freaked, the events of the past days cascading through her all at once, crashing over any little composure that remained. Her knees went weak and she nearly fell.
She was a killer.
A stone cold killer.
But this … this wasn’t cold blood, was it? This was a crime of passion. They both had it coming. Both men deserved to die, she told herself. The others as well. No sane person would dispute that. Forcibly she contained the gripping paralysis, shoving aside these fresh, frantic thoughts.
None of it mattered. Not now. She had to get out of there.
Desperately she whirled in place, looking around the room. Lots of windows and only two exits. A few interior doors led to offices at one side. Guards were no doubt standing by in the halls and would probably enter soon. The Shogun’s orders not to disturb them couldn’t last long. Not with the news the officer brought.
The Venatres were attacking.
The Icon.
She went to it. Experienced another moment of fear. Did she dare touch it? What made it work? If she touched it and popped out in mid-air over the forest back home, a thousand feet up …
I’ll die.
But escape was right there! She could be gone from that nightmare. She shook with indecision.
Too scared to touch it.
Only …
No. Back home she’d twisted something. It was only something she did that activated it. The twisting action. Zac held it in the playhouse. Holding it was safe.
She looked closer, scrutinized it’s surface, finding what appeared to be the part that twisted, mustered courage and …
Touched it. Nothing happened. She wrapped her fingers carefully around the shaft. Tighter. Still nothing. Got a grip and … picked it up. Held it.
Watching it start to tremble in her hand.
CHAPTER 39: THE CAVALRY RIDES
Darvon stood beside the ornithopter, still in the Skull Boy armor, helmet cap off, head tiny above the massive, armored shoulders. He watched as a fiery sunrise broke above the distant hills, staring into the red ball of fusion as it rose into the cloudless sky. Hoping that, at the end of this day, he would be celebrating.
Before the burning disk fully cleared the horizon he heard the faraway noise of approaching aircraft, drifting on the wind. Straining into the distance he was soon able to make out specks; several of the larger Venatres ‘thopters, chugging through the air with a heavy pulse that ebbed and flowed on the breeze. As they closed more came to view, then scores more until a swarm of metal insects filled the sky. Flying out of the night, racing toward him and on toward the dawn.
Responding to his call.
Volume rose. In no time the air pistoned with their thunder, the ground shaking as the first group of giants scorched overhead. Long shadows stretched behind each, flashed over him and disappeared at speed. Darvon waved, wide strokes of his armored arms, cheering, turning to greet each successive line as they flew by and roared on. Through the windows of the machines he saw many of the pilots waving back, crews crowded in holds, the largest ones carrying armored units for the fight. In that moment he felt an intense surge of belonging. Of pride, though these were not his people. These Venatres were off to destroy his people, if their plan worked.
They were also off to rescue an angel.
If she still lived.
She lives, he assured himself.
With a deep ache he thought back on his betrayal.
After he fled in terror, when the bullets flew and Jessica and Willet ran into the teeth of the attack, he eventually made himself stop, far away but not so far that he couldn’t see. And what he saw inside the walls of the Crucible made his heart sink. The signal lights of a capture. Telling him the angel had been caught. Telling him she never made it to the Icon. Darvon knew his own capture would come soon enough. There was nowhere to go, certainly no way he could make it all the way back to Osaka. Not that he would ever go. He’d failed her. He failed and it was better to die than be caught running.
But new determination had risen within him. At the sight of those lights. A way to be her savior. And so he rose and went back, to the ‘thopter, and made the call. And the Venatres listened. And now, he was ready.
He grabbed his helmet cap and locked it on. Ashamed of his earlier weakness, clinging to the hope that it might have, in the end, been for the better. If he hadn’t run no one would’ve been around to let the Venatres know. And so he was going to chase these soldiers to the front and help in any way he could. When he saw the Kazerai craft in the distance, headed back toward the Venatres lines—in what was obviously to be a sneak attack—he warned them. It was the perfect stimulus to action, and he was thrilled when the Venatres took his word. More so when they opted for a counter-move, to stage an unexpected assault on the very source of the Kazerai:
The Crucible.
Now here they were, come for that purpose in all their impressive glory. He hoped, he so fervently hoped, they would find Jessica. He prayed she would be rescued and the Crucible would be brought down, along with all it stood for.
Hope turned to conviction. He would not lose his courage again. And as he began to run after the last of the thundering fleet he felt that conviction rising.
Certain this day would, indeed, end in celebration.
* *
Satori gazed out the window at the scrub terrain scrolling rapidly beneath her command ‘thopter. Small hills undulated up and down like waves as the aircraft maintained level flight. Ahead of the airborne fleet the sun was rising, and below, coming up fast, she caught sight of the ‘thopter “stolen” the day before by Willet. There, standing beside it, suited up in Skull Boy armor and ready for action, was Darvon.
“I’ve got you,” she answered his calls, setting his channel and suit information in her system. “Follow us.”
He waved as her ‘thopter blitzed by in a rush, then took off running behind. If he could keep up a good pace, she thought, he’d reach them not long after the battle was over.
The Crucible wasn’t far.
There was no way she was sparing even a single craft to stop and pick him up, though she was grateful for his raising of the alarm. They’d already confirm
ed the Kazerai ship he reported was a real threat; it had just been detected turning back for the Crucible. In hot pursuit, the Kazerai’s plans foiled. She could only imagine they’d been intending a massacre.
Despite that good deed, however, Darvon was a civilian. And an enemy to boot. If he wanted to chase them and help, fine. But she wasn’t going to stop and get him.
“I’ll see you there,” he said. She could already see his heart rate on the rise as his Skull Boy fell further behind. The guy was out of shape. Eager, but out of shape.
More power to him, she thought and turned her attention to other indicators. The fleet was in loose formation, flying all around her at more or less the same height, more or less even distances. Theirs was an expeditionary force so, while major components remained engaged against the Dominion at Osaka, they’d quickly been able to task several field commanders and their units, including hers, dispersing the other commanders back to the battle at the city and away from the compromised HQ. Now it looked like the Kazerai, having seen this or, more likely, having been informed and ordered back in defense, were racing to the same destination.
The Crucible was about to become a battlefield.
She thought on Lindin’s earlier reaction. Already beside himself at the loss of the all-important Girl From The Other Side, this was suddenly an excuse to set things right. According to Darvon, Willet and Jessica made it into the compound, but had been captured, which meant they and the Icon were likely intact. This wasn’t a rescue mission, of course, and Lindin wasn’t convinced, but here they were, on their way. This was a prime target, had been the final argument, the tipping point that got the green light to execute. It was an opportunity. The whole command structure was at the Crucible; the Shogunate and the Council, along with the Icon.
Along with Willet, thought Satori, hoping—believing—that was true. Dead or alive, she was quite certain he and Jessica would be found. Silently she cursed the foolish Willet. Why are you such a romantic? It was a terrible trait, and she was never quite certain whether she loved or hated it about him. Either way, it got him on this crazy mission and she was confident he was still in there and she would find him.
First, though, she was about to lay down the hammer.
“Ma’am,” her navigator got her attention.
“Go ahead.”
“The Kazerai craft is at full burn on this trajectory.” He sent a set of data to her console. She studied the new arcs. “They’ll reach the Crucible just ahead of us.”
“Very well,” she replied and went back to the stream of data on her screens.
It wasn’t “very well”, of course. This meant they’d have to deal with the Kazerai in addition to all else. She began formulating an adjusted set of tactics.
Seeing the whole thing coming together in one explosive, glorious moment. A battle to be spoken of, no doubt—whether they lived to tell the tale or not—for a long time to come.
* *
Jess shook so badly she nearly dropped the Icon. I’m holding it! She stared hard at it, groaning silently, willing a decision. Willing herself to use it. But she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. It would just dump her out over the woods and to her death.
It was as useless now as if she never had it in the first place.
“Shit!” she cursed aloud at her own paralysis—immediately regretting the outburst. Her voice echoed loudly in the expansive room.
Alarms had begun gonging throughout the compound, warning of the imminent Venatres attack. She’d been in the room too long already, alone with the two dead men, agonizing over what to do. Remembering the shock of the first time she activated it, the terror of popping out in mid-air. She would never have survived that fall without Zac.
At last there was a commotion outside the door. For an instant she went four directions at once, unable to decide which way to flee. She picked an office and ran inside.
Not a moment too soon. Soldiers came crashing into the larger room behind her, reacting and fanning out as they spotted the crumpled Shogun and senior officer. Jess peered at them through a small window in the office, knowing it would only be moments before they found her.
And realized what she had to do.
She had to escape with the Icon and reach the Venatres forces arriving outside. It was the only solution. Somehow she had to get through the maze of the Crucible, make it outside the compound with the Dominion’s most Holy Relic … and get back to the Venatres. It’s the only way. The rest could be figured out from there.
She nearly laughed aloud.
Insane.
It would’ve been the laugh of the damned.
Heart pounding, adrenaline sharpening her senses to a fine edge, she watched the soldiers through the window, unable to hear what they were saying through the thick glass and the wail of alarm sirens. She shrank lower behind the sill. They were checking the two old men on the floor. The soldiers wore body armor and carried impressive assault rifles, helmets curved a little over the ears like Nazi helmets from World War Two. Their faces were covered with goggles and vented masks, which made them look even more like video game bad guys than real men.
What struck her most, however, was that these large, dangerous men were the same guys she and Willet fought in the compound that night. Guys who looked helpless from the point of view of a Skull Boy. When she was shooting them as a nine-foot-tall Skull Boy she almost felt sorry for them. Now, crouched in hiding wearing nothing but a rough tunic, they seemed impervious. Full-grown men in body armor with heavy rifles and menacing helmets. In the Skull Boy she was the impervious one. Now all she could do was hide.
Willet. Maybe she could run to him? Vaguely she remembered the walk up from the first prison cell, retracing those steps in her mind, up to here, to the upper floor of the control building. They might’ve moved him. She’d never reach him alone. Not there in the main building, crawling with soldiers. Right then she had to get out, somehow. Rescue for Willet would come later, but only if she could reach the good guys and let them know.
In the large room the soldiers were fanning out. In that same moment the tone of the alert sirens changed and Jess had the idea something new was happening. Staying low she went from the small, internal window, across to one of the wider windows on the other side of the office, facing outside. The sun was rising on the other side of the building, casting long shadows of it and the perimeter walls and the other buildings in the compound out over the surrounding prairie. And there, racing toward her just over the sight horizon, were a swarm of aircraft.
The Venatres force.
The sirens must be signaling their imminent arrival.
Movement in the far distance caught her eye. Something else, a lone craft in the air coming in on a different trajectory. She strained to identify it as it flew fast, faster than the others, just above the ground, ripping up the terrain in a turbulent wake of dirt and grass that curled out high and far behind it.
She recognized it.
It was a Kazerai ship.
Zac! Whether he was in it or not she had the immediate idea that he was. Could he be coming for her?
Then, in the other room, the heavy footsteps of the soldiers as they positioned themselves outside the office door where she hid. She snapped to action; went to the only other door in the office, which led to a closet, went through and closed it gently behind.
CHAPTER 40: ZAC
Satori concentrated on her breathing. Steady in through the nose, steady out between the teeth. In. Tsssss. Out. Managing her adrenaline. Letting it build, letting it flow.
“Disperse along this front!” she issued orders, talking above the din in the command ‘thopter, marking points on her tactical display. Acknowledgements blipped back, highlighting teams on the overlay. Her command unit whumped the air, making full tilt as they closed final distance on the target.
“Kazerai transport is down!” came a report. Up ahead, between the Venatres forces and the Crucible walls, she could see the swirl of debris settling around the arr
iving Kazerai craft. Moments earlier it had cooked in over the short, rolling hills, sliced across their path—beating them to their objective—and hooked to a banking stop.
Now it was down and depositing its deadly cargo.
“SB units Eight, Nine and Ten prepare to engage the Kazerai!” Satori called, formulating an attack. “All gunships direct fire on that craft!”
Acknowledgments blipped back and the vanguard segment of her group, still in flight, opened up with a barrage of cannon fire; large-caliber tracers, streaming ahead of the forward gunships, adding a new, deeper thunder to the air as the heavy slugs sought out the Kazerai airship on the ground.
Finding their target.
“Hits!”
Shrapnel and explosions blew off the mighty vessel, visible at range. Could they be so lucky?! Could they take it out before it unloaded …
“Kazerai craft is in motion!”
She watched as it took to the air.
“Kazerai on the ground.”
For an instant the hope had felt good.
“First units coming under fire!”
Return fire began streaming from cannons along the fortress walls, drawing a bead as the vanguard units maneuvered to avoid. Rapidly the air between the Crucible and the Venatres heated up, bullets flying in both directions.
“Unit Twelve in position!”
“Unit Five down and in action!”
“SB unit Nine is out! Go! Go! Go!”
Satori listened to the incoming comm, watching the Kazerai airship thunder back over the Crucible, arcing quickly away from the inbound attack. She looked down at her tactical display, watching the Skull Boy units she’d tasked with engaging the Kazerai themselves. Hustling to the engagement, running toward the two shirtless combatants with no less passion than they would any other, though this was one engagement they were certain to lose.
“Dominion ground units!” came another report. “Entering the field!”
Star Angel: Awakening (Star Angel Book 1) Page 34