He heard a sound from back somewhere in the vaulted darkness of the hacienda. It might have been some debris falling as easily as it might have been some living thing blundering into a pile of rubble.
Rand warily followed the noise, his weapon raised. In a courtyard at the center of the place, he saw another sheet of the glistening, decomposing man-o’-war stuff, shrinking in the sun as he watched it. Its highlights twinkled like stars. He strained to remember what it reminded him of, as he moved on, footsteps echoing in the darkened hallways.
It looked almost … almost … But the image eluded him.
He heard a sound. He whipped around a corner with his weapon ready, braced to do battle. “FREEZE! Just fr—just, that is …”
CHAPTER
SEVEN
Not even Zand, for all his PSI Sinsemilla, his Flower ingestion, had foreseen anything like it. And on and on, the Protoculture Shaped events.
Xandu Reem, A Stranger at Home: A Biography of Scott Bernard
She sat in a shaft of sunlight that poured down on her like a benediction from above. Her arms were crossed on her bare bosom, long, slim fingers clutching opposite shoulders. She stared aimlessly at the light.
Her hair was a deep red, like his own but waist-length, and luxuriant as some rare pelt. Her skin was so pale, her body so frail-looking—and yet it was a woman’s. Highlights glistened from her—
Like the twinkling of stars.
Rand realized how close he had come to shooting by blind instinct. He also realized that she was naked, and he saw how beautiful she was there under the soft, almost loving sunlight.
“Ooo! That is … excuse me!” He brought the gun up and stared at it for a moment. He whirled, with a country Forager’s sense of propriety. “That is, I’m sorry!”
She looked up at the strange figure, her long distraction broken. “Uhmm-ahh?”
The distraught Rand was trying to collect his wits. In the outlands where he came from, being found with a naked woman could have all sorts of horrible repercussions, especially if one were found with her by her male kin.
He jittered, staring at the pockmarked stucco wall. “Didn’t mean to surprise you! But—won’t you catch cold just sitting there like that? You know—Heh, umm, don’t you have any—” He tried not to look at her. “—any clothes you could put on?”
She didn’t know who or what she was. She looked up at the creature or object that had moved and made noises toward her. Following an ingrained program, she emulated: “Clothes … put … on?”
“Yeah, you know: anything to w-woo—” He was having trouble spitting it out, and he was having even more trouble keeping himself from ogling her.
“Have any thing w-wwoo—” she mimicked, completely baffled.
Just then, Rook dashed in. “Rand! I thought I heard voices!”
As she skidded to a stop, he was already waving his hands, trying to keep her from seeing the situation. “Um, don’t come any closer! I don’t think you want to see, er—maybe we should get back to the Cycl—”
But she had already seen the naked woman, and her open-mouthed surprise changed to anger. “Stop being an idiot!” She elbowed him aside and looked down at the young woman, who was trembling and looking up at them both, apparently in a state of shock.
Rook spun around and grabbed the front of Rand’s pullover. “You animal! How could you do something like this?”
“Hey, honest! I found her like that! She wasn’t wearing a single piece of anything!” He was astounded by the anger in her eyes, astounded that she could think he would assault someone. He was even more astonished by something else he thought he saw there. It was partially a look of despair, as if Rand had betrayed her, betrayed some emotional investment she had made in him.
She released him and began taking off her faded yellow hunting jacket, moving toward the young woman. “I’ll just bet she wasn’t, you scuzzwad!” She knelt to drape her jacket gently around the woman’s shoulders.
“Tell me,” Rook said kindly, “why are you here all by yourself?”
“Here all by yourself,” Ariel repeated.
Rand told Rook, “That’s all she does, repeat what you say!”
Rook rose and went back to him. “Now slow down and tell me what you’re babbling about.”
He shrugged. “Maybe she lost her memory.”
Rook considered that. “You mean like through some sort of trauma?”
The young woman was staring down blankly at the straw on which she sat. The scintillating lights playing off her were fewer now.
Rand rode point, while Rook followed along with the frightened young woman huddled in her jacket.
They were observed by the optical sensors of a half dozen Shock Troopers and Pincer Ships.
“The Simulagent has been accepted,” the Regess’ voice rang among them. “Follow and observe! Make no attempt to contact—as yet!”
Annie, worried about Scott, stayed behind when the others went out foraging. Her few attempts to get him to talk met with utter failure. As the sun climbed higher, she idly inspected the nearby hulk, and kept one eye on Scott. He didn’t move but sat beneath the gun turret, staring off into space.
Something bright in the sand caught her eye. “Hey, Scott, look what I found!” She swung it from its chain. “A pendant! Isn’t it beautiful?”
But he never even turned her way. Annie’s feelings were so hurt that she threw the glittering thing back toward where she had found it, then squatted miserably in the dust, eyes brimming with tears.
But a moment later she was distracted by the approach of Scott’s Alpha, still in Guardian mode. Annie jumped to her feet, waving and smiling up at the Veritech. “Hey, Lancer!”
A few seconds later, Lancer leapt down from the cockpit. Annie trotted over to greet him. “Did everything go all right? Didja find any Protoculture?”
He beamed, throwing back the long purple tresses. “I found something even better! Come on, while I tell Scott.”
She dashed after, thrilled without even knowing what the news was. “Scott! Wait’ll you hear this!”
Lancer stopped in front of the young lieutenant. “Scott, listen—” He stopped because Scott hadn’t even bothered to look up at him.
Scott sighed listlessly. At last, still looking down, he said, “Yeah, what is is?”
But before Lancer could speak, they heard Lunk returning, laughing and beeping the horn of his truck. “Hey, everybody! Wait’ll you see this! It’s terrific!”
He was still carrying on as he stopped in a shower of gravel and sand and hopped out of the cab. Scott wasn’t any more curious about Lunk’s find than about Lancer’s, but Lancer and Annie were eager to hear.
“You won’t believe it!” Lunk chortled. “It’s a new type of Veritech fighter I’ve never seen before!” He was waving a manual. “See? It attaches to the back of the Alpha, and it’ll double or triple the range and firepower! It’s called, uhh—”
He paused to thumb through the manual. Scott surprised everyone by saying quietly, “It’s a Beta Fighter.”
The other three went “Huh?” in concert, then Lunk continued. There was barely a mark on the Beta, and he had already repaired the slight damage there was. He unfolded one of the manual’s diagrams and showed it to Lancer and Annie.
The Beta was bigger and more burly looking than the Alpha. It was a mecha of raw power that could also assume Battloid form and a kind of modified Guardian.
Then it was Lancer’s turn. He had located two more Alphas that looked like they could be made combatready, especially given the surplus of spare parts lying around.
Lunk was still giddy. “With four fighters and four Cyclones, we’ll just plain knock the Invid clear off this old world!”
Annie was picturing herself in a victory parade. “Scott, this is so exciting! We’re going to have enough firepower to make us a miniature army!”
He looked at her angrily. “Four lousy fighters? What difference will that make against the Invid? Th
e people who died here were an army, don’t you understand that, any of you? This was part of Admiral Hunter’s handpicked force! And all we can do is end up just like them!” He slammed his fist against the torn hull furiously.
He hated himself for saying it. He had spent the morning hating himself for a variety of reasons: for the death of his fiancée Marlene in the initial attack, when Scott was the only survivor from his entire squadron. For leading the others along on this quixotic quest across a ruined Earth, with a lunatic vision of defeating the beings who had conquered an entire world. For the despair that had enveloped and disabled him completely, now that all his hopes were shattered. For the sad necessity of telling them, now, that it had all been a mistake, and they had to make their own way from here on, as best they could …
Annie was in tears and Lunk’s big fists were balled. He looked a little like an angry gorilla. “That does it. Bernard! All right, you feel bad about your buddies; we understand, and we do, too. But is that any reason to take it out on Annie?”
Lunk took a step closer. “Get up.” His ham-size, scarred fists were raised.
But Lancer intervened, almost frail and insubstantial next to Lunk, though they had all seen Lancer fight and knew differently. “Lunk, stop. Take care of Annie, will you? I’ll talk to Scott.”
Lunk hesitated, then obeyed. Lancer went to squat next to Scott, who seemed to be asleep.
“Don’t say anything, please, just listen. We’re all with you, and we’re still ready to follow you in the fight against the Invid, because you—and we—are the last chance the Human race has. But if you give up now, the team falls apart, because you’re the only one with the know-how to tackle Reflex Point.
“Now I want you to remember what you told us: we’re all soldiers, and we have to do our duty, whatever the cost, whatever happens.”
Scott’s eyes had slowly opened, but he still stared out at the aftermath of the slaughter. Lunk, disgusted, led Annie off to begin work on the Alphas Lancer had found. After a moment Lancer followed them, leaving Scott alone and silent once more.
There’s no way to defeat the Invid. You’re insane, and now you’ve passed the insanity on to others.
He lost track of time until a sudden glint of light caught his eye. It was the sun shining off the pendant Annie had tossed aside. It was a cheap piece of jewelry; a lot of people in Mars Division and the other units had carried it or something like it. That made him remember something suddenly, and he dug out the locket Marlene had given him when they had parted—unknowingly—for the final time. It was a flat, heart-shaped metallic green locket with a blood-red holo-bead in the center, not very expensive but unutterably dear to him.
He activated it and it opened like a triptych. The air above the holo-bead was shot through with distortions, then the image of Marlene hung there, a Marlene perhaps six inches tall. Her uniform with its short skirt and boots showed off coltish legs. She was gamine and graceful; pale, wide-eyed, with long brown hair. Not beautiful, but very attractive.
The brief loop began playing in mid-message. “My love, I accept your marriage proposal with all my heart. I can’t tell you what this means to me, or how long I’ve dreamt you would ask. Yes, Scott: I’d be proud to spend the rest of my life with you.”
He had looked at it once, in the cockpit, just after she had given it to him, with nova-bright joy. But in the countless other times he had opened it, Marlene was superimposed on a scene of a flaming, plunging warcraft.
He clamped the locket shut once more, cutting off the loop. Marlene! Suddenly he heard the sound of powerful engines and looked up. The APC was returning with Rook at the wheel and Annie crouched nervously in the back seat. Rand was playing outrider on his Cyclone. The Alpha was playing mother hen to the bulky Beta Fighter. Scott figured Lunk was babying the Beta along; the big ex-soldier had some flight time, although he preferred the ground. But who was that in the APC’s shotgun seat?
He got a better look and leapt to his feet without realizing it. Marlene!
The hair was a different color, but the face, the skin, the eyes—the very posture of her—these things were those of his dead fiancée.
It’s finally happened. I’ve driven myself mad.
“It’s like she’s just learning to talk,” Rook finished her story, “but she learns very quickly.”
“How terrible the thing that happened to her must have been,” Lancer said somberly.
Annie was sniffling. She wiped her eyes on the floppy sleeve of her battle jacket. “Well, I think it’s awful!”
Rand looked grim. “The Invid did this to her, you can bet on that.”
Lancer had assured himself that there was nothing obviously wrong with the young woman. There were no signs of bruises, wounds, or sexual assault. “We’d better get her to a town, somewhere where she can be helped.”
The Simulagent had been staring at Scott, unnerving him, so that he stole only intermittent glances at her. Now though, still watching him, she shivered and groaned, then went down on one knee. Scott couldn’t escape the feeling that it had something to do with him. Or maybe I just want to believe that?
It seemed impossible that anyone could be such a close match of another Human being. He had no faith in miracles, but he was beginning to think he would have to change his mind, because there was no other logical explanation.
But there was no time for insights; seconds later a deep thrumming vibrated the air, and the freedom fighters whirled to see a flight of Invid mecha heave into sight from behind a crashed battlecruiser.
The war machines spread out into a skirmishing line and began their slow approach, gliding some thirty feet above the ground. Rand and Rook sprinted off toward their Cyclones. After a moment’s confusion, Lunk and Annie knelt to gather up the young woman, as Lancer prepared to get to his Robotech bike as well.
Rand halted to look back at Scott, who still stood rooted. “Come on, Scott! Hurry!”
Lancer seized Rand’s arm. “Forget about him and get to your Cyclone!”
Rand gave Scott a brief, bitter look. “Big talker.” Then he rushed to battle.
Lunk and Annie got Ariel to take cover behind an exploded cruiser’s hull. The three Cyclones raced out to meet the enemy. We’re lucky they didn’t simply open fire, Lancer thought. With all of us caught in the open like that, it could have been a turkey shoot.
The Pincer Ships and Shock Troopers laid down an advancing barrage of fire, patterning toward the oncoming riders. The annihilation discs from their shoulder cannons streamed down, fountaining sand and fire and debris wherever they hit.
Scott watched numbly. Part of him wanted to fight and part of him simply wanted to end it all. He wanted to give in to the seemingly endless weariness and bloodshed and pain, and accept his fate then and there. Then he realized that the woman was on her feet.
She seemed to be about to break down into tears. She stepped out of the cover into which Lunk had carried her and strode like a sleepwalker out onto the hot sand. She stared up at the oncoming Invid sortie, and whimpered. Lunk started to go after her and drag her back, but the nearby impact of two discs sent him falling backward.
Scott screamed, “Hey, what are you trying to do, get killed?” It occurred to him that someone else might as well ask the same question of him, standing out there in the open.
Lunk and Annie braved the alien volleys to reach her and try to carry her back to safety. But she was frozen there, and the Invid closed in, their fire sending up columns of flame to all sides. She put both hands to her ears and screamed, screamed.
As Scott watched her face, it was as though Marlene were screaming. The sound of it struck through every cell of him. It was the sound he had imagined a thousand times—her last scream as she died in the enemy onslaught.
Marlene!
Before he knew what was going on, he was vaulting for the Alpha’s cockpit. He howled away into the air, pulled on his thinking cap, and buckled his harness. Scott changed to Alpha to Veritech mode, wi
ngs swept back for high-speed atmospheric dogfighting.
He had remembered what he was fighting for.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
People are mostly stupid and hateful and cruel to one another but—hell; let’s save the world’s ass anyway. It’s better than being bored.
Rook
The three Pincer Ships came at Scott in a tight V formation. He tagged the starboard wingmate with an air-to-air missile and banked past the falling, burning bits of it as the surviving two broke to either side to avoid him.
He read the displays; the target acquisition computers were working overtime. He launched another flight of missiles; a Pincer dodged one only to be skeeted head-on by another.
“All right; who’s next?”
The third personal-armor Pincer was the next one to come in at him, Frisbeeing the white-hot discs. Its claws were bent close to it to decrease wind resistance and increase airspeed. Scott missed with a burst from his wing cannon.
How the blazes do they manage to maneuver so fast? But he knew he had been lucky; his whole team had. It was miraculous that the Invid, catching them unprepared and out in the open like that, hadn’t incinerated them.
He looped, trying to get into the Invid’s six o’clock position for the kill.
Rand brought his Cyc through a skidding 180°-turn, throwing up a shower of grit, as annihilation discs registered hits to all sides. The Shock Trooper stumped toward him, raising its immense claws, its two shoulder cannons pointing in his direction. Rand got off one round from the front-hub-mounted gun, cursing the fact that he hadn’t had time to don his armor. Then he was flung back as a near miss from the Trooper’s heavy guns blew him and his Cyclone backward through the air.
He landed in a shallow pit, stunned, waiting for an alloy claw to close around him and snip him in two or for a disc to burn him to ash. Instead he regained full consciousness in moments, spitting out sand and swearing. A thunder in the sky made him look up; the Shock Trooper roared by overhead, with Scott rocking it with cannon salvos.
Invid Invasion: The New Generation Page 24