In Nadir's Shadow

by E. J. Heijnis

  The howl of the engines changed pitch and the landing craft lurched into motion. After a brief period of crushing acceleration, the vehicle went through a series of wild maneuvers, leaving him breathing at the top of his lungs and fighting nausea. His only reassurance came from the slack, disinterested faces of the guards around him. Gerasim gave him a grin and a wink from across the cabin, which helped a bit.

  The crisp voice of the pilot spoke in his ear, "Prepare for surface pressure equalization. It'll be rough going down."

  "Everybody cover up," Demyan said, his tone curt and professional. All around, suits shifted to cover faces, leaving a transparent space for the eyes. Khariton had practiced this, and adjusted his own suit without assistance. The landing craft began to shake, hesitantly at first, then with increasing violence. Khariton seized his harness with both hands and held on with all his suit-enhanced strength as the vehicle tore its way through the outer atmosphere. A small voice in the back of his head mocked him for his pointless gesture, and he wondered at his complete inability to loosen his grip in spite of that knowledge.

  As the violence subsided, so did his apprehension. Another curt announcement from the pilot: leveling off. Even before he finished speaking, Khariton's insides sank towards the floor of the craft. The skin on his face stretched down as he struggled to suck air into his lungs. Grey static crept in from the edge of his vision, but his suit had detected the excessive G forces and squeezed down on his lower extremities. The pressure eased off, and he took deep breaths, trying to reach the knot of terror at the pit of his stomach.

  "Ten seconds," the pilot said.

  The guards took hold of their weapons. Demyan said, "As soon as we hit dirt, I want the perimeter set. And watch the spacing. Nice and smooth."

  With a final shock, the landing craft settled on the surface and the hatch sprang open. The guards poured out of the cabin without a word. Khariton followed last. As soon as his feet hit the ground, a blast of air almost knocked him over. A glance over his shoulder showed the landing craft accelerating away, joined by the other four. In moments, they disappeared behind a mountain peak.

  They had been dropped off on a rocky plateau surrounded by jagged grey spars of rock. Khariton had to search to find the sun, a small blue orb barely surmounting the horizon. The pale light painted razor shadows on the landscape.

  He jogged over to join the line of guards seeking cover behind a ridge. "Clear ahead. Second Squad, up front. Third Squad, watch the rear. We've got two hours and fifty-three minutes till sundown. Let's go." After a click in his ear, Raisa spoke again, "Khariton, stay in the center of the column. Don't wander off. I'll find you if I have to, but you won't like it."

  "Understood."

  The guards set out, moving quickly across the uneven terrain. Radomil flowed past on his left, moving smoothly on six scything limbs. Khariton stared after him, keenly aware he'd only just learned to extend his reach with his suit. His limited experience barely allowed him to keep up, and it took all his concentration to project his suit quickly enough to keep his balance. By the time Raisa called a halt and the company gathered behind another ridge, sweat drenched his underclothes and he struggled to catch his breath.

  "Demyan, let's take a look." Raisa reached up with two tentacles from her suit to grab the rocky edge and pulled herself up. First Squad leader Demyan followed her up. They spent only a few seconds before coming down. "No changes from the briefing data. The breach in the perimeter remains unsealed. No sign of defenders. We'll stagger the advance, odds first. Questions?"

  Khariton's analyst mind kicked in and he spoke before he realized it: "Are we expecting the perimeter to be held against us?"

  Even before he finished speaking, he felt the weight of fifty guards shifting their attention to him. He kept his gaze on Raisa, grateful that his suit hid his flushed complexion.

  "I'm not expecting anything, but we'll have the covering fire available if they do. The advance continues regardless. Anyone else?"

  Khariton bit his lip, not even sure what else he wanted to ask. Something about her answer felt off, like everyone was missing something obvious. Worse, he felt sure he'd already have figured it out if he had access to his work database and a few quiet minutes to think.

  "Odds, up and over!"

  Thirty guards hauled themselves across the ridge and hit the ground running. Khariton gambled on a new technique, using arms as well as legs to run. He almost fell on his face before he got the rhythm down, but once it clicked, he found himself running on all fours, well able to keep up with the guards.

  Raisa led them through a large shallow crater, where the thirty guards lined its far edge. Khariton took a place in the line and brought his rifle into his hands. All eyes scanned the grey wall half a kilometer ahead, nestled between two roots of a tall peak rising into the thermosphere behind it. Khariton peered at the collapsed section of the perimeter through the various filters built into his suit, but couldn't make out any details in the shadows. Nothing moved. He tried to calm his breathing, the clenching in his gut, and figure out why he felt uneasy.

  "Even squads, advance."

  He swallowed hard. If the floaters showed themselves now, he would fire a weapon for the first time in his life. He redoubled his efforts at scanning the wall ahead. Seconds later, the twenty guards of Second and Fourth squads raced by to their right, moving in a loose line. "Motya, Klim, that's too tight. Spread it out." The metal-clad figures dispersed further on their way to an angled plateau that presented a man-high vertical drop to their objective.

  "Odd squads, advance. No one stops until we're inside."

  Again they poured over the ridge and sprinted across open space. The wall loomed larger, the gap growing wider to swallow them all. Still nothing moved.

  Halfway across, the pieces slipped into place in his mind. The realization almost made him stumble. He considered speaking up now, but stopping here was impossible, anyway; they were too exposed. The guards in the lead converged on the breach and disappeared inside. "Perimeter secure. Ghost shield is active."

  Khariton stumbled into the complex, throwing himself aside to make room for the rest. They'd arrived in the open space between the wall and the featureless exterior of the complex itself. Moving with synchronous precision, Fifth Squad charged in through the breach in the station's exterior. "Interior bridgehead secure." Guards from Third Squad ascended the walkway along the inside of the wall to cover the advance of the remaining squads.

  Raisa emerged from the breach, clearing the space before surveying the scene. "Evens, advance."

  Khariton came up to her. "I need to talk to you."

  "Go ahead." She turned to watch Third Squad spread out along the wall. "Fifth Squad, take position to defend the bridgehead."

  "It's a setup."

  She turned to him. "Explain."

  "I've been thinking about this since the briefing, but it didn't make sense until now. These wall breaches were badly done. If the floaters had breached fifty meters to the right, they would have had a straight run to the shaft room, where the defenders are. Instead, they picked a route around the power plant, right through the equipment shops and environmental systems. Nothing but corners and tight corridors. It's paradise for the defenders."

  Already, her eyes flicked away. "So they didn't know the layout of the facility, so what?"

  He shook his head. "The layout is obvious even from orbit. The cooling tower alone shows the location of the power plant. At the least, they should have made another breach after they drove the defenders into the shaft room. There's only one reason not to do that: they wanted to control any further access to the facility."

  She still hadn't looked back at him. "We already know they want to use the station themselves, else they would have just destroyed it. They're just trying not to give themselves more work later."

  He stepped closer to her. "Then why didn't they hold the perimeter against us?"

  She met his stare again, at first with the same
rock-hard expression she'd had since landing. Then he saw her gaze shift, and he knew she understood. "There are floaters in the rocks out there. Is that what you're going to say?"

  He nodded. "We can't detect them because of the metal in the stone. They lure us in, hold us inside while overwhelming force charges the perimeter, bound to be lightly held only as a precaution, and trap us inside. We'd be stuck between enemy forces and isolated from the station's defenders. They'd wipe us out."

  "You'd be surprised. Any ideas?"

  Although he'd devised a solution by habit, her question caught him off-guard. "Hold them. Outside. They have to cross the same expanse we did. The Mitrofan can provide precision orbital fire to break up their attack. We'll still have to enter the facility right away, to pin the enemy in place inside, but only with a small force. The weight of the company holds the wall. The ghost shield is still up, so if we keep our heads down, they'll have no way of knowing we're waiting for them."

  She considered. "Sounds good to me. Anything else?"

  "Just the fact that this operation appears pointless for the floaters. We would eventually have sent reinforcements and destroyed their raiding force. Unless the ambush is larger in scale, and space forces are on their way to attack Mitrofan and its escorts."

  Raisa's eyes widened a fraction. "Mitrofan, do you read?"

  Minutes later, Khariton peered out over the wall at the barren landscape. Around him, thirty guards stood ready with everything in their arsenal. Naum stood to his left, using extensions of his suit to hold MAP rifle, grenade launcher, Reaper, and missile launcher all at once. Khariton wondered how he would aim and fire more than two.

  "Enemy engaged."

  The terse words in his ear meant Fourth and Fifth squads had found the enemy inside the station. If he'd been right, they would now signal the floaters hiding among the rocks to begin their attack. He shifted his stance and waited.

  "Guard down."

  He clenched his jaw, unused to seeing his strategies play out on the battlefield. He'd checked his logic over and over, but he couldn't dismiss his worry that he'd missed something. He glanced at the ink black sky. Among the countless pinpricks, one light blinked with steady, artificial intervals. Mitrofan was the only ship left in orbit; Victory had departed with most of the fleet after dropping off Mitrofan with two heavy brawlers and an attack carrier as escort. Those three vessels had left orbit and taken position relative to the floater's expected arrival vector.

  "Two guards down. Enemy moving to flank."

  Khariton looked at Raisa. She ignored him and kept her eyes on the rocks beyond the wall. Still nothing moved.

  "Guard down. They're pushing."

  Raisa said, "If you need to, fall back―"

  "Here they come!"

  "Belay that," she snapped. "Hold your position."

  Relief and adrenaline rushed through his body as he watched the dark grey, diamond-shaped creatures flow out of their hiding places. He'd never seen a floater with his own eyes before, but images of them had always made him feel like they belonged underwater. He felt even more so now, watching them race across the uneven rock with wings rippling in rhythm and tentacles trailing behind.

  The world turned white. Successive shockwaves rattled the ground as the Mitrofan delivered its ordnance. Blinding fire erupted in massive balls, burning new craters into the ground. The barrage swallowed most of the attacking floaters. Khariton watched as it shredded one into pieces in a heartbeat, the blast scattering the remains.

  "Fire."

  The wall spewed tracer fire from half a hundred barrels. Grenades sailed into the air, then activated propulsion systems and sought out concentrations of targets. Missiles screamed across the shrinking distance, some erupting in clouds of flame as floater psych charges knocked them out of the air. Floater return fire snapped into the wall, leaving angry, head-sized cavities.

  From the chaos on the field, a handful of the creatures converged in a rush. "They're bunching up!" someone said, but even as fire tracked in their direction, they attacked. A section of the wall exploded, almost knocking Khariton off his feet. As he straightened, masonry rained down around him, striking his suit. He stared at his arm, once dull metallic, now covered in bright red. He sucked in a huge breath and braced for the pain. None came. He could still move his hand. When he wiped away the blood, his suit was intact underneath. Bile rose in his throat, made worse by the panic that followed close behind. He couldn't vomit in his suit!

  A hand seized his shoulder, hauled him up. He looked into Raisa's fiery eyes. "Shoot! You can't throw up if you're shooting!"

  He straightened, wobbled once. Rifle in hand, he took his place at the wall. The band of floaters he'd seen a moment ago had been reduced to a scattered mess of remains. Few of the attackers were left, but still they came. He sighted along the barrel. Light green squares appeared around his targets and dotted lines indicated his aiming point, adjusted for target inertia and atmospheric conditions. One of the last floaters raced low along the ground, dodging left and right as weapons fire threw up gravel to either side. He pulled the trigger, screamed. His fire tore into the sleek, dark body, sending it skidding across the ground. Dark fluids leaked from the ruined floater. It didn't move again.

  Something left him then, something he'd never known he had, something that had given him a comfort he'd always taken for granted. Sorrow knotted in his chest as he felt the loss of having taken a life, and he sank to the floor.

  Nothing remained alive on the field. Raisa's voice cut through his thoughts: "Third Squad, cover the wall and set up triage. First Squad, Second Squad, leave your wounded and get inside. Fourth Squad, what's your status?"

  "Five guards are down. We're back at the junction, holding for now. They're pushing hard from the living quarters and shaft room. They're trying to go around through the equipment shop, but we put up a barricade with the machinery."

  "Demyan, take your squad to the shop and set up a crossfire, then drop that barricade. I want you to push hard when they break. Try and cut off the attack from the living quarters. Motya, reinforce Fourth and Fifth Squads at the junction."

  Acknowledgments clicked in Khariton's ears. She turned to him. "Well done. Actually, that was a great shot." He looked at her, and her eyes softened. "I know. Even though they're not human."

  She took his arm and pulled him up. "Some of it gets better. Not all of it." As the guards carried out her orders, she walked with him along the wall. "I'm sure it's the same for them. We all do what we have to. Them and us. We're just trying to survive."

  "Then why do we kill each other at all?" he whispered. But she gave no response, because they had come upon the site of the floaters' last desperate attack, and the head and torso of one of her guards blocked the way. The suit had sealed off the horrific wound, but a mess of blood and viscera stained the concrete where she lay. He didn't know the woman. Raisa did. He watched the rise and slow fall of her chest as the breath seemed to drain from her body. She kneeled and looped one of the dead guard's arms around her shoulders. "Don't," she snapped when Khariton made to help her. He straightened, stung, unsure of what to do. "Find Demyan," she said. "Go with him." The cold in her voice sent him fleeing.

  Chapter Ten

  Azial couldn't stop thinking about his son. His stubbornness was nothing new, but he'd seemed almost callous over Tamzi's death. He'd never taught his son to be indifferent. Was his need for glory really so great that he'd risk his lover's life to get it? Old resentment welled up inside him, for Pirisati, who spent more time with Musuri than anyone else. They'd clashed over his upbringing before, and her argument had always been the same: the boy needed his father. Even now, she blamed him for Musuri's failures, with no regard for Azial's responsibilities.

  "Balbasu has not slept," Tihamtu said.

  Azial looked at the bulky chief sitting at the opposite end of the circle, and once again found Balbasu staring a him. Despite the late afternoon sun, shadows ringed his small eyes. His bearing h
ad changed subtly, yet dramatically. From a greater distance, Azial would have mistaken him for another. "To be expected, I think."

  "It clouds his judgment further still," Tihamtu said. "Only his pain will speak today." He leaned over and accepted a bowl of water from one of his servants.

  Tihamtu had invited Chief Kha-Hea of the Kinziru tribe to arbitrate the meeting. He and his entourage had arrived last, but only because both the Udaki and the Yahua delegations had come early. Kha-Hea had supported Azial at the last meeting, but he had no idea how the chief felt about the current conflict. Tihamtu had not expressed any thoughts on his choice for arbiter.

  Kha-Hea stood. "For this tragic gathering of chiefs of the Kith, I beg the Great Mother and Great Father for their guidance. Bless us with your mercy and patience, so we may act in the spirit of the Kith and find our way to compassion."

  Good words that made his stance immediately clear. Azial chided himself for having doubted Tihamtu's wisdom.

  "Balbasu. You have a grievance. I invite you to speak your mind."

  Balbasu dragged himself to his feet. He stood hunched, wayward hair sticking from his braids and clinging to his face. "I had eight children once," he said, his voice thick with bitterness. "Seven I lost to fate. The eighth was murdered. My last child, my only daughter, Tamzi, was taken from her home by Azial's son. He took her beyond the walls. Into the jungle. He is no Sharyukin, and he didn't have the strength to protect her." He paused. When he spoke again, it was through clenched teeth: "My sweet daughter, fourteen summers young, was taken by the Vile. The coward that took her left her to be violated. A monster now grows inside her cold flesh, while he still walks free, and whole. It is unjust that he would continue his life with my daughter's blood on his hands, unavenged. I demand his life. I will kill him with my hands. Though I will never feel joy again, at least the balance will be restored."