Sibylla of Earth

by A. D. Baldwin

  “A hologram?” Sibylla asked. “That’s hardly impressive.”

  “Not a hologram,” Atra said. “Something…different.”

  Sibylla shot him a look of suspicion. What did he mean by that? Turning back to the image, she studied it closely. It was amazing, the perfect capture of a red apple, no different than the actual thing. But just as her fingers grazed the shiny surface, she gasped in surprise as she felt a sudden shock of electricity.

  It was the same technology she’d seen before, she realized, the same one that had been used to create the map of the facility when she’d arrived there for their first training session. Only much more powerful.

  “The particles are reinforced with a static charge,” he explained.

  “Amplified,” Sibylla said, her hand reaching out to touch the apple once again, only this time falling just short of its vibrating surface. Heat resonated along the bellies of her fingers, warning of a deeper burn. “How powerful can it get?”

  “See for yourself.” He tugged down the front of his suit, and Sibylla saw a muscled chest with a red welt by one of his nipples. Mesmerized by the sight, she reached out to touch it, stopping just short as their gazes met. She pulled away.

  “It looks like it hurt.”

  “Pain is temporary,” he said, allowing for the front of his suit to crawl back up over his chest.

  Sibylla frowned.

  “And this is supposed to help me?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  He tapped the front of the scroll and the red apple suddenly morphed into a hopping rabbit, it’s furry paws clutching onto a carrot.

  Sibylla laughed. “That’s cute.”

  But then Atra tapped the scroll again and the rabbit began to grow in size, its tiny head morphing into a giant square head with menacing green skin and bolts at its temples.

  “What the—” She reached for her blade and stepped back, glaring up at what appeared to be Frankenstein’s monster.

  Atra shook his head. “You become scared too easily.”

  “Easy for you to say.”

  “Sometimes the things that scare us at first, turn out to be more than what you expected.”

  Sibylla watched as the monster reached into its dirty coat and pulled out a beautiful red rose, offering it to her like a gift. Looking back at Atra, she found him staring at his feet.

  “You know, sometimes you can be really sweet,” Sibylla said.

  “And others?”

  “A jerk.”

  “Like now?” Atra tapped the scroll again, but this time, the hologram shrunk in size, forming into a VK-26 assault rifle. Bullets fired from its barrel and Sibylla jumped out of its way, flipping backwards and dropping to a squat.

  “What the hell is your problem?” she demanded, her blade held out before her.

  “Why do we not train with guns?” he asked.

  “Because,” Sibylla said, standing up straight and bowing her head. “I can’t.”

  “Because you are scared?”

  “Because I’m horrified.”

  “Why?”

  Sibylla took a deep breath, as she wondered what to say. Retelling the story was almost as scary as holding the gun itself. And it was for that reason that she didn’t like to discuss it.

  Strangely, though, she felt secure in Atra’s presence, as if he was stronger than the fear, and she would be protected by him. “It’s because of my father.”

  “The soldier?”

  She nodded. “It was a gun that he used…to kill himself.”

  “And you saw this?”

  She nodded.

  “And now it has left its mark on you,” he said in a decisive tone. “In war, there is no time to reflect. You must leave the dead, gather what ammunition is left, and move on.”

  “Easy for you to say. It wasn’t your father who blew his brains out in the kitchen of your home.”

  “You are right,” he said. “I never had home for him to die in.”

  Sibylla stared at him, noting the first sign of real emotion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

  “It is fine.” He motioned for her to follow as he returned to the VK-26 still hovering in the air, it’s barrel still smoking.

  Sibylla took a calming breath as she studied the metal device, forcing herself not to turn away, not to give up.

  “The greatest tool an enemy can use against you is fear,” Atra said. “It can be molded, shaped, made to be more than it really is. But what you must remember is that it is not real.”

  “But it feels real.”

  “And what makes it real?” Atra asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sibylla said. “The fact that it is.”

  “Is this real?” he asked, pointing toward the gun.

  “No.”

  “But it’s there. You can touch it.”

  Sibylla stayed quiet as she thought about it.

  “It’s the power that you give it,” he said. “The emotion. The fear. In order to survive, we must remove it.”

  “Emptiness,” Sibylla said, remembering what Atra had taught her from one of their earlier sessions.

  “Exactly.” Atra moved in behind her, glaring at the VK-26 over her right shoulder. “And that is the secret. You must make yourself immune to the fear not by facing it, but by not caring. Accept the worst possibility there is and move forward.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, I do care,” Sibylla admitted. “I care about everything. Even things I’ve never seen before. People who live on the other side of the world. I’ve always been like that.”

  “This is unfortunate,” Atra said. “Because I can assure you that your enemy will not care for anything else than itself, least of all, you.”

  He was right she knew. If she was going to survive the Nest, she needed to rid herself of the fear that haunted her so greatly. Turning to face him, she stared into his massive chest. “Maybe we can start off slowly, like…baby steps.”

  “Baby steps?”

  “You know, work myself up.”

  Sighing in frustration, he turned around to walk away. “Fine,” he said, tapping the scroll in his hand a final time. “If that is what you want…”

  Sibylla staggered back as she saw the VK-26 turn into a tall samurai with blazing red eyes beneath the brim of a pointy cap. In his hand he carried a large sword that was blazing with fire.

  “…then baby steps it is,” Atra said.

  26

  The Fog

  The drop pod shook as it crashed against the mountain below, thrusting Sibylla against her restraints and nearly knocking her unconscious.

  Her heart was still pounding from when, only seconds before, Anais had been able to miraculously steer the pod’s trajectory from one of the sharp peaks of the mountain. If she hadn’t, they would’ve most likely would’ve died.

  Sibylla held on for dear life as the pod tumbled over and over, finally coming to a halt as it reached the base of the mountain. When the movement had stopped, and a deep silence followed, she peeked at the silent hull, relieved to see that everyone was still alive. Thank God.

  “Releasing safety restraints!” Anais flipped the switch on the overhead control panel and the thick straps holding them in place zipped up from their bodies, freeing them to battle.

  “Alright!” Yumiko added. “Let’s head out!”

  Tayshaun was the first to move. He stood at the opened hatch and waved them out into the hazy light spilling into the pod. “You heard the boss, let’s go!”

  Outside, a thick fog drifted through the air, concealing the new environment to Sibylla and the other recruits, while a stinging breeze swept through the air. Sibylla shivered.

  “What is this place?” Yumiko asked, her gaze lifting to the sky.

  The mountain stretched around them like an unwelcome embrace, covering their flanks and leaving only a narrow path behind them to escape.

  It’s a cul-de-sac, Sibyl
la realized with a pang of anxiety. With nowhere to go, they’d be trapped. “We need to get out of here.”

  “Agreed,” Tayshaun said.

  “Relax,” Yumiko urged with a scowl. “No one’s going anywhere.”

  Koda tilted his head back to smell the air, his dark eyes dubious as they scanned the high walls of the mountain. “Are you sure these are the right coordinates?”

  Anais shrugged. “At least the ones Williams gave us.”

  A sense of uncertainty took hold of Sibylla as she stared off into the fog. This was nothing like the battles they’d faced in the past, the furious engagements that started the second they touched ground and saw light. Here, it was a peaceful silence, made all the more eerie by the absence of enemy soldiers.

  Why? Sibylla thought. Why drop them off here, where it was empty? It didn’t make sense. “Something’s wrong,” Sibylla said.

  “Here she goes again,” Yumiko complained.

  “I’m serious,” Sibylla pressed. “We need to get out of here.”

  “We need to fight,” Yumiko said. “And who cares if its empty. If this is the place, then this is the place.”

  Sibylla clenched her jaw. Williams would’ve never given them a break. That was for sure. Everything he’d done from the start was to either surprise them or scare them to the point of failure. Besides, if Sibylla had learned anything, it was that the instructor had a special place for her in his stone heart, a fact that she was reminded by every time her thigh ached.

  The other pods landed with a thunderous crash, tumbling down the side of the mountain and toppling to the earth, where they sat surrounded by the fumes of their dying thrusters.

  “Hurry up and get them out here,” Yumiko ordered.

  Tayshaun nodded and raced off toward the first pod, Anais trailing after.

  “Some of them might be hurt,” Sibylla said.

  “I don’t care,” Yumiko said. “Securing the area is our first priority.”

  “Even if most of your men can’t stand?” Sibylla asked, waiting for a reply. But none ever came. Instead, Yumiko turned her attention to her rifle, seeming more concerned with the smudge on the barrel, rather than the welfare of her soldiers.

  Sibylla sighed. The more time she spent under Yumiko’s command, the more she felt as if she was living on borrowed time. The young woman dealt orders like afterthoughts, then blew up when things didn’t go her way. She had no patience, no logic. Even the other soldiers were becoming noticeably weary.

  Shoving the thoughts from her mind, she turned her attention back to the mouth of the cul-de-sac. It was then, as the fog began to lift, that she saw a line of rifles pointed in their direction. She gasped.

  “Take cover!” Sibylla reached for the blade at her back and dove for Yumiko, yanking her behind one of the larger boulders.

  Electrical rounds sped through the air, tearing through the pockets of fog like burning coals.

  “Bastards!” Yumiko seethed. She lifted her rifle over the boulder and let off a few rounds into the fog at the enemy.

  Sibylla peered over the top of her boulder and frowned as she studied the enemy’s superior position. They were lined up behind a barricade of Fortress Blocks—large metal squares the size of a child. Soldiers used them to build walls during engagements, providing them the necessary cover whenever there was none.

  “We’re screwed,” Anais complained.

  “Maybe,” Sibylla said, activating the zoom of her visor and peering into the smoke. The enemy soldiers were feint shadows in the fog. Even the blocks themselves were barely visible. But through the smoky blur, she spotted a single red light glowing in the distance and recognized it instantly. “They’ve got an ammunition drop.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Anais asked.

  “Positive.”

  “Bullshit,” Yumiko replied.

  “Look for yourself,” Sibylla said.

  Yumiko peeked over the boulder, staring off at the supply dump that signaled their doom. “Damnit, she’s right.”

  Ammunition drops were crates filled with stacks of cartridges. Williams had not only trapped them inside a cul-de-sac but had also supplied their enemy with enough ammunition to last them a week. Sibylla shook her head.

  “Screw you!” Yumiko yelled. She let off another round of bullets, and they sped off into the smoke, disappearing as they headed aimlessly toward an enemy she couldn’t see. As great of a shooter as Yumiko was, even she wouldn’t be able to get past the veil of fog around them.

  “Hold your fire!” Sibylla told her.

  “What’d you say to me?” Yumiko asked, her anger clearly written across the front of her visor.

  “You’re wasting bullets!”

  “I’m counterattacking! Besides, I’m the one in charge here, you got that?”

  “She’s right, Yumi,” Tayshaun said through the com. “If they have an ammunition drop, then we need to reserve our resources.”

  Yumiko grunted in frustration. But Sibylla didn’t care. Emotions, as she was learning, were an impediment to success. They needed to focus on what was important.

  “So, now what?” Tayshaun asked.

  Sibylla watched as Yumiko bit her lip in thought. “We wait it out. And when they’re done, we get our best shooters to take them out.”

  “That’ll take too long,” Sibylla said. “We’ll be here for hours if not days.”

  “And?” Yumiko replied.

  “We don’t have the supplies to hold out for that long,” Anais said.

  “Okay then, genius,” Yumiko said, turning to Sibylla. “What’s your plan?”

  Sibylla glanced up at the mountainside. It was too steep of a climb. And with no cover, they’d be hit within minutes. Vexed, she looked back at the exit, it’s mouth suddenly darkened by an even worse round of fog. But what option did they have? With the amount of ammunition that the enemy controlled, it was only a matter of time until the entire area was fried. Already, she could feel the sparks of electricity spilling over the top of her boulder. No. This was their only option. The only question was, how?

  “We advance,” Sibylla said.

  “What?” Yumiko asked.

  “Right up the middle,” Sibylla added.

  Anais scoffed in amused disbelief.

  “You sure about this?” Koda asked, his voice filled with doubt.

  “Look,” Sibylla said. “If we can’t see them, then they can’t see us. Now get ready.”

  “No way,” Yumiko said. “We charge up that stretch, and they’ll cut us to pieces.”

  “Which is why we’re not going to charge,” Sibylla said, taming Yumiko’s fire with a steady voice.

  The Asian soldier lifted her visor. “What then?”

  “We crawl.” Sibylla logged into her comm, ignoring the hate of Yumiko’s stare, and began to issue orders. “All troops, prepare to line up. I want three lines. Positions based on size. Smallest up front, largest in the back. Let’s go.”

  “Fine,” Yumiko conceded. “But this is the last time you challenge my authority. You got that?”

  “Whatever you say, platoon leader,” Sibylla replied.

  Yumiko stared at her for a moment, then hissed in anger as she turned away.

  Across from Sibylla, a male recruit was shivering behind a boulder, his hands covering his helmet. Sibylla checked the view screen of her visor and identified him as Charlie, the bald kid she’d first met at dinner months ago.

  “Charlie, what’s wrong?” Sibylla asked.

  His voice came out in trembling snippets. “I’m scared,” he said. “I’ve already been hit six times before. If I get hit again, the doctors say I might have…permanent damage.”

  Crap, Sibylla thought. How could they force people to do this, to put themselves in harm’s way when there was no point to it in the first place. Soldiers needed to be healthy to fight; not damaged. Angered, she glanced around at the other recruits, sensing a similar feel. They hid behind boulders, their heads tucked into their chests. None held
their rifles. None were looking at the enemy. They were scared.

  “Charlie,” Sibylla said. “It’ll be okay, alright? Just do what I say and you’ll get through this. And that goes for the rest of you,” Sibylla said, making sure that she’d logged into the main comm for everyone to hear. “Figure out your positions and don’t hesitate. Trust me.”

  “And where are you going to be lining up?” Yumiko asked spitefully.

  “At the head,” Sibylla said, snapping her blade to the magnetic strip on her back.

  Leading from the front was something that she’d learned in strategy class. All the great leaders did it. It showed courage, inspired bravery and raised the moral of the troops. Which, at the moment, was something they needed desperately.

  “Alright,” Sibylla said. “On my command, we move.”

  Overhead, the clouds were moving slowly. They traveled like a tired herd migrating across an empty field. Sibylla waited until a thick patch had crossed the sun, hoping that the added darkness would aid them in their plan, before giving the command. “Now!”

  Soldiers lifted from their covers, racing frantically into the fray of bullets, almost all of them able to dive for the ground. They advanced slowly, crawling over the frosty ground with spread legs and opened palms.

  Usually, this type of advance required soldiers to hold their rifles. But Sibylla needed them to be like ghosts, so she ordered them to holster their rifles along their backs. It was a risk, she knew, but one that they had to take.

  Behind them, Sibylla had left three shooters to cover their advance. They popped up at intermittent bursts, firing at the enemy, distracting them from the real attack that was inching toward them on the ground.

  Sibylla ducked as bursts of electrical rounds zipped past her. The enemy was firing into the fog, relentless in their determination, heedless in the number of bullets they were wasting. It was a ceaseless storm of firepower that pushed Sibylla’s mental capacity to the limit, testing the defenses that she’d been working on with Atra.

  Up ahead, the barricade was coming into view. She saw helmets bobbing up and down. Rifles aiming. Off in the rear, a figure was standing in the shadows, giving orders from the safety of a large boulder.