Eden's Revenge (Eden Paradox Book 3)

by Barry Kirwan

  He slumped onto the ground, gasping, willing his nannites to combat the electrical discharge from the pulse round threatening his heart. It was like an intense heat raging across his body, and Micah arched his back in pain, refusing to cry out through gritted teeth; he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. But the nannites created a firewall in his chest, first protecting his heart, then quenching the pulse’s dissipating energy. His insides felt as if they had just been cooked, but he knew he was okay for the moment, and closed his eyes, slumping back against the blast door.

  Outside there was a loud thunk, then another. Louise shouted through the wall.

  “This is only a stay of execution, Micah. I brought back a little surprise in my ship. Once I’ve left I’m going to send this Crucible nova.” She waited for a reply, but Micah didn’t gratify her.

  “By the way, Micah, do you like my new toy? Present from Qorall’s Level Twelve Andhrakian troopers. Highly versatile, very nasty. I’m hoping to bump into somebody you care about before I leave, to try out its full range of functions.”

  Listening to the silence that followed, Micah clenched his teeth against the subsiding pain. After two minutes he entered the access code. The door wouldn’t open. Damn! He began searching his resident’s map for another pathway to where Louise was headed, but there was no quick route. Micah realised two things: first that he had burned out half his nannites to stop the pulse shot from killing him, and second that Louise would next encounter Petra and Chahat-Me. He thumped against the door again, this time hard enough to get a resounding echo. Petra. He’d got his priorities all wrong. Nursing his shoulder, he ran along the corridor in the opposite direction to where he needed to be.

  * * *

  Petra and Chahat-Me reached the holding enclosure along with only a dozen Ossyrians – the path to get there had been bloody. The area in front widened and Petra gazed into the sepia-tinted glass dome where at least fifty humans – none of them Genners from what she could see – stood motionless, frozen in stasis. It was like a nightmarish version of one of the snow-toys she’d seen as a child, as if all the people – including her adopted mother Antonia – were encased in glass. She wondered what the Alicians wanted with them, but mostly she simply wanted to get them the hell out of there.

  One of the Ossyrians stepped forward but was immediately consumed by horizontal intersecting laser beams from the walls. A flash of crimson light triggered black splotches on Petra’s retinas. When her vision cleared, she saw that not even ash remained. Clutching at her hair, she stared across to the dome and her frozen mother. “Ideas, anyone?”

  Chahat-Me’s head twisted to either side of the opening, to where the lasers hid, as if calculating something, then turned to two of her taller colleagues. She gripped Petra’s wrist. “Leach lasers,” she said, “only one target at a time.” The other two Ossyrians advanced outside the inner pair, one of them placing her paw behind Petra’s back. They stood at the edge of safety, and Petra was still trying to guess what a ‘leach laser’ was when she suddenly realised what they intended. Chahat-Me yanked her wrist as the other Ossyrian shoved Petra forward. The lasers flared. Petra landed on the floor next to Chahat-Me, her eyes blotchy from the flash, then craned her neck to see… The other two Ossyrians had sacrificed themselves. Holy shit! She couldn’t believe what they had just done, so quick to die, without a moment’s hesitation or preparation.

  Chahat-Me helped her to her feet. Petra knew that saying “Thank you” was futile for the two dead, vaporised Ossyrians, but she said it anyway.

  They rushed over to a Q’Roth control panel. Chahat-Me’s eyes blurred as she studied it, and then began manipulating its curved, barbed controls. The sepia light in the dome faded, returning to normal. Petra walked toward her mother, who was still paralysed in stasis. The dome’s glass prevented her from touching her mother’s hand, so she stood next to her, remembering how as a very young girl she had waited after school for her two mothers to pick her up and take her home. Chahat-Me walked around to inspect the far side of the dome.

  A sound like a buzz-saw rang out behind Petra and she turned to see a blonde woman firing a strange weapon. Orange fizzing beams arced outwards from Louise’s bulbous rifle and found each of the remaining Ossyrians standing on the other side of the barrier. Several of them had managed to return fire but the woman moved quickly, her weapon neutralising the few Ossyrian shots that would have struck home. In one second, all of the Ossyrians were down. Petra didn’t raise her pistol, but stared at Louise. Chahat-Me, stay put till I can distract her!

  Louise walked towards her. Good, keep on walking! But she stopped just short of the protective line, uttered some words in Q’Roth, then walked straight through the kill-zone and up to Petra. Without warning, she struck Petra hard across the face with the butt of the rifle, knocking her to the floor. Petra tasted blood, her vision hazy. Louise crouched down, flinging Petra’s pistol to the far side of the room. “Who are you? You’re a Genner girl, aren’t you?” She put down her rifle, and noticed Petra’s eyes following it. “DNA-coded,” Louise said, “mine.”

  Petra looked into her unwavering brown eyes, wondered if she could strike Louise fast enough – probably not.

  Louise stood. “You remind me of someone.” She stared towards the humans, now semi-frozen, their faces and hands beginning to twitch. Her sight alighted on Antonia. “My, my. Well, this is unexpected. So, who’s the father?” She squatted again. “Micah, by any chance?”

  Petra lunged at Louise with both fists and screamed at the same time. Louise fended off her blows with ease, and struck Petra’s windpipe with the blade of her hand. Petra found she couldn’t breathe, but it had created the diversion she had hoped for. Chahat-Me came from around the dome, flying at Louise, her wide-open snout uttering a death-roar, her paws extending syringes. Petra lay on the floor clutching her throat, trying to get some air into her lungs as she watched Louise twist with gymnastic precision, using her feet and arms to prevent Chahat-Me from injecting her with deadly toxins. Chahat-Me was wild, utterly feral. The pair were locked together and rolled on the floor away from Petra, back toward the entrance. Petra wheezed in a sliver of precious air and got to her feet. Louise yelled something in Q’Roth just as Chahat-Me was gaining the advantage – one of her paws slipped through Louise’s left hand, slicing into her wrist. Petra searched for her pistol, couldn’t see it. Louise pushed off with a foot against Chahat-Me’s underbelly and rolled again, shoving Chahat-Me into the re-activated kill zone. There was a flash, and Petra stared in disbelief – her godmother was gone, nothing left. She half-screamed, half-yelled and ran toward Louise, aiming to drag them both into the kill-zone. Louise shouted the deactivation code above Petra’s yell, her foot simultaneously connecting with Petra’s mid-section, sending her flying, back against the dome glass, winding her.

  Louise crawled to her rifle, touched a few areas on the handle with her right fingers, and then pointed at Petra and fired. Petra saw a purple flash, then realised that she’d not been killed, merely paralysed, her lungs barely managing to inhale and exhale, air rattling in her bruised throat.

  Petra stared, inert like a wax doll, as Louise’s left arm turned an ugly dark green colour, all the way up from her hand to her elbow, sizzling from Chahat-Me’s poison. One of Louise’s fingers, black and bubbling, broke off and fell to the floor. Good, die you bitch!

  Louise manipulated the rifle’s controls again and swivelled it around so it pointed at her own arm just below the shoulder. Holding Petra’s gaze, lips squeezed together, she fired. It sliced off Louise’s left arm like a focused-beam blowtorch, the rotting limb splatting onto the floor, fizzing as it spread out into a decaying, grey-black, bubbling mess.

  Louise dropped to her knees, uttering something between a groan and a yell, propped up by her one good arm leaning on the rifle. Her other arm ended in a stump midway between shoulder and elbow. It looked angry but neatly cauterised. Louise raised her gaze to Petra, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched in a gri
mace. She stood, leaning against the wall behind her. Wedging the rifle under her right armpit, she fished with a shaky right hand inside a chest pocket, pulled out something, and swallowed it. Petra guessed it was trimorph. Louise swallowed. “Never did trust Ossyrians. This rifle’s auto-med function serves me better.”

  Petra glared, staring at the line where Chahat-Me had vanished, cremated. She’d known Chahat-Me all her life, the alien who had looked after her, shared her own blood to save her after the climbing accident, shown her things she ought not to have, well above Petra’s level. While others feared aliens, Petra didn’t. Her gaze hardened and swung back to Louise, who was shaking but clearly recovering on the other side of the room, now sitting back against the wall with her knees up, rifle loosely angled towards the dome. Petra had always been compassionate, not sure she could kill another being even if her life depended on it. But now the lust for vengeance ignited and spread through her entire body like a dry forest catching fire. She couldn’t move, and satisfied herself for the moment by relishing Louise’s intense pain. It helped particularly when Louise glanced at, or felt for, her missing arm.

  A tingling in Petra’s fingers and toes told her the stun effects of the rifle were wearing off, and her head suddenly pitched forward as her muscles slackened. A knock behind her made her turn, awkwardly at first, to see her mother crouch down, her face at Petra’s level behind the thin dome glass. Antonia wore a deep frown, wide almond eyes darting occasionally across to Louise. Petra braved a smile, and put her hand on the glass next to her mother’s. Others behind the dome wall were also awakening, shuffling around. Petra recognised some of them, then one came to the fore – it was Sandy. She took up position next to Antonia, glaring pure venom at Louise.

  Petra had just levered herself onto her feet when six heavily-armed Alicians arrived – three male, three female – entering from the far side of the room, skidding to a halt as they encountered Louise and an array of Ossyrian corpses.

  “Report,” Louise barked.

  The group exchanged glances, then one of the females spoke, standing to attention. “The Command Centre has been destroyed. Sister Esma could not have survived. All the Q’Roth are dead. There are a few Mannekhi survivors and a lone human with two Ossyrians, but they are all blocked behind several layers of kill-fields – it will take them twenty minutes to get here. The rest of the Ossyrians that we know of are dead. We are all that remains of Sister Esma’s crew.”

  “Thank you,” Louise said, “That puts me in charge.” She stared them down till they nodded. “Lead these humans to the Raptors three decks below, then put them back in stasis. Anyone offers the slightest resistance, kill them. Leave the Genner girl. I’ll join you in ten minutes. We will rendezvous with the Q’Roth destroyer waiting outside the system.” She paused. “You know,” she said, as if speaking to no one in particular, “I actually liked Sister Esma.” She stood straighter, enlisting the Alician group. “We will continue her mission back on Savange.”

  The six moved past Louise, but she stopped the last pair “Not you two. You,” she said, addressing a female, “I need you to do something for me.” Louise whispered in the woman’s ear. The woman stared a moment at Louise, then ran to overtake the others, disappearing down a descending corridor. Louise smiled at the male. “Bring the Genner girl, and follow me.”

  Petra whirled around to her mother, unsure if she or anyone else inside the dome could hear any of what Louise had said. Antonia soundlessly pounded against the glass wall as the Alician male grabbed Petra and dragged her away. Petra’s last view of Antonia was of her head bowed down, whitened fists against the dome wall, Sandy’s hand on her shoulder.

  Once they’d turned the corner, Petra spoke up. “Where are we going?”

  Louise wasn’t too steady on her feet. “We have ten minutes to kill.”

  * * *

  It had taken Micah far more time than he’d wanted to find an alternative route towards the holding pen and retrieve an assault rifle from a dead Alician. His resident picked up something around the next corner but it couldn’t resolve an image. Priming his weapon, he gave it all he’d got with a burst of acceleration. He saw Louise ahead and facing away from him. It took only a fraction of a second for him to decide it was her. He opened fire, aiming for her back. This time! But the shot passed straight through her. Shit! Holo –

  A pulse round struck his legs and he went down, another shot hitting his rifle, making it burn red-hot so that he had to let go of it as he crashed to the deck. The hologram of Louise disappeared, as did a chameleogram that was masking the real Louise. She stood legs splayed, the bulky weapon in her hand. Micah was stunned to see her left arm cut off just below the shoulder.

  “Hello again, Micah. I wanted you on your knees before I executed you. I also wanted to see if you’d shoot me in the back. Nice to see you’ve finally grown up. Vince would have been proud of you.”

  Micah’s legs spasmed with cramps as the pulse charge fizzed around them. His resident was trying to regain control over them via the neural shunt. He wondered if his legs would still respond. Normally their neural pathways would be out of action after a pulse hit, but maybe not with the Ossyrian fix in his spine. He had no weapon except surprise; Louise didn’t know about the shunt, nor his nannites. He had to stall, give the others time to release the captives. He needed something to ensure she’d respond.

  “Would Vince be proud of you, Louise?” He didn’t know how she felt about Vince after all these years, but if it was anything like before, he expected to experience sudden pain. He raised his head.

  She looked relaxed, as always. “You continually underestimate me, Micah. I stay one step ahead of you.” She addressed someone around the corner. “Bring her.”

  Micah’s questioning frown vanished as soon as an Alician male marched Petra into view. The man held a pistol to Petra’s throat, while another gun sat idle in a side holster. Micah eyed it.

  Louise waved her rifle vaguely in Petra’s direction. “You dare to ask me about Vince, when it was your plan that got him killed? Does this little Genner bitch mean anything to you, Micah? Because I’d really like you to know how I felt after I lost him.”

  Petra looked fragile but not wounded. Micah guessed Chahat-Me hadn’t made it. Petra looked into his eyes, slightly shaking her head. But he knew Louise better, and she was right, he had underestimated her. Again.

  Micah struggled to his knees and readied his resident, hoping his legs would work; he gauged the distance. He stared at Petra, his peripheral vision taking in the man behind her. He instructed his remaining nannites to speed up his reactions, and about thirty per cent of them to steel his left hand. He would have only one attempt; this effort would expend his remaining nannites.

  “This girl means everything to me,” he said.

  Time slowed down for Micah.

  Louise laughed, began to shake her head, and was about to say something. The Alician male momentarily took his eyes off Micah to glance at Louise. Micah triggered the command, and the shunt sent a way-beyond-tolerance signal to his legs. His thigh and calf muscles almost burst as his feet found purchase and his legs kicked off with frog-like speed and power, springing toward Petra, his left fist connecting with the Alician male’s forehead like a hammer, snapping his neck, while Micah’s right hand wrenched the pistol from his grip. As they toppled – for Micah in slow motion – he fired behind him to where Louise should still be, but at the same moment another shot lit up the room.

  He rolled away from Petra and came up in a crouch, trying to hold the pistol that burned red-hot in his hand. He clicked the trigger but nothing happened, and he flung it from his scalded palm. Louise was on one knee, clutching her scorched left side, grimacing with pain. He didn’t know why she wasn’t flat on the ground. She stared at the blackened rifle, tried to fire it three times at Micah, but his shot had clearly hit the rifle on its way to Louise. “Sonofabitch,” she said, between clenched teeth.

  She turned the rifle arou
nd and aimed it towards her wound, and for one brief moment Micah prayed she was going to kill herself. But the rifle emitted a blue glow, and he realised it was somehow healing her.

  Micah focused on Louise. He wanted to rush her, strangle her with his bare hands while she was wounded. But his legs refused to cooperate; the shunt was either fused or temporarily out of action. “Petra, are you okay?” he asked. The Alician male’s twisted body was still.

  Petra tried to suppress a groan. “Please just kill her, Uncle.”

  Without taking his eyes off Louise he crawled toward Petra, his legs dragging behind him. “Where did she get you?”

  Petra coughed, clearly in agony. “Belly. Let me watch her die.”

  He searched for the Alician’s back-up pistol, checking back to see that Louise was still in as bad shape as he was.

  Louise glared at him through strands of blonde hair, sweat breaking out on her face. “I die, she dies,” she rasped.

  He found the short pistol tucked under the male’s hip. Propping himself up on one elbow, he checked the charge, ramped it up to maximum. “You’ve both been hit by pulse charges; you’re both going to die. But I’m going to grant my niece her last wish.” He aimed at Louise’s head, his finger on the trigger.