by C. G. Hatton
Chapter 39
“The Thieves’ Guild leading both Earth and Winter into battle?” There was something of awe in her voice.
“Nikolai had little choice,” the Man said. “He was right. The Bhenykhn knew what he was and he knew that knowledge could not be sent back lest it be used against us.”
“He brought Earth and Winter together. Everything you have been striving for. They followed him. They died for him.”
“It was a skirmish only. And it proved how fragile these creatures are. We had technology to match, weapons and defences that should have stood up to the Bhenykhn and we were destroyed. This galaxy is young. Its people are young. They might be loyal and fierce when fighting a common foe in a desperate skirmish, but given the full scale of the invasion to come? I fear for them.”
•
NG scrambled to his feet, rifle up and firing at the decimated line of Bhenykhn ground troops, only four or five left and those taken out fast as more guns came to bear down on them. When the last one fell, he stopped, chest heaving, standing in the pouring rain and turning slowly to take stock.
‘Fifty nine wounded, one hundred sixty seven dead.’
Hal Duncan was standing over the last Benny, a machete in his hand. LC was down, Hil on his knees.
NG felt like his eyeballs were burning.
“Oh my god,” Martinez breathed at his shoulder, “was that Skye?”
They both looked over at Hil.
NG couldn’t feel a thing from him.
“Go get LC,” he muttered.
The kid was stirring, knocked sideways by a blow from something but alive. Martinez nodded and took off, joined by the Wintran medic he could have sworn he’d told to evacuate but was here amongst their wounded, obviously not the first time she’d seen combat.
Hil got up as he approached, steadfastly avoiding looking at the burning wreckage and heading instead for the line of fallen Bennies. NG dropped into step alongside him and they joined the others salvaging what weapons and ammunition they could, Hil kicking at each body and barely containing a smouldering anger. A couple of times, the kid knelt and pulled something from one of the massive Bhenykhn. Collecting kill tokens. NG let him do it, let him burn off the intensity of the loss.
It was only once they were done and moving again that Hil spoke.
“I felt her die.”
NG looked across at him. Hil was spinning a knife in his hand. He had a rifle slung across his back and a pocket full of kill tokens. He looked like the street kid Mendhel had paid a fortune to buy from that jail all those years ago, that haunted distrusting look back in his eyes and a set to his jawline that was the warning sign of a brewing temper.
He met NG’s eye with a belligerent glare. “Why didn’t you reply to her?”
“Hil, I couldn’t hear her. I don’t know how you could hear her. It wasn’t through the Sensons.”
The only light was from the dim glow of Erica’s moons and a few bouncing flashlight beams, and he couldn’t read Hil’s mind, but he could still read the furtive downcast glance. “What?”
Hil didn’t reply.
The ground was uneven, slippery with mud, and for a few minutes they had to watch their footing, trying to keep up with the pace and not break a leg.
NG didn’t push it with Hil. His chest was hurting like hell again but he didn’t want to waste time stopping to take a look at it and he didn’t want to steal energy from anyone around him because he could feel how depleted they all were. He had a shot of Epizin in his pocket but it was his last one and he had a feeling he’d need it later.
‘You’re going to need more than that later. They’re waiting for you. In case you’re wondering, they’re not chasing you out here because they know you’re headed straight for them. You’re going right to their chosen field of battle, Nikolai. Big mistake.’
He ignored the chiding and asked for an update, struggling to process all the information Sebastian threw at him, and almost missing Hil’s confession.
“You can what?”
“I can hear AIs,” the kid mumbled again. “I can hear them think. It’s shit. They’re all insane.”
Hal Duncan was moving amongst their bedraggled ranks and distributing what little ammunition they had left. He brushed past, pushed a mag into NG’s hand and thought, ‘Did he just say what I think he said?’
NG wiped his face with the back of his hand. “For Christ’s sake, Hil, I need to know stuff like this.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know if it was real until I heard Skye. I was hoping she might have gone back to the Alsatia. Oh crap, NG, I can’t believe she’s gone.”
He was close to trembling.
NG switched the full mag for the half spent one in his rifle, slamming it in and fumbling the old one into a pouch. That was all he had left. His hands were freezing. He used to need touch to manipulate emotions and he had no idea if it would even work with Hil now but he used as much energy as he could spare to calm the kid down as they walked, focus the fury of that instability into a force he could use.
Hil sucked in a deep breath and looked up. “Just tell me what to do.”
NG glanced over at the kid. Hilyer needed that the same way Arturo had told him what to do when he’d woken up there after Devon…
It felt like an eternity ago.
“Break into the Bhenykhn ship for me while I distract their commander,” he said bluntly.
Hil laughed. “That’s the plan?”
“Yep.”
“That sucks.”
“Yep.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Hil, if we pull this off, I’ll get you both back on the standings. I’ll reinstate my name, start again from scratch and I’ll chase you both for the fucking top. Screw special projects, the whole damned list will be special projects. We’ll go after Zang and we’ll go after Rodan. All this has been about the virus. And this is where it came from. If those bastards knew the Bennies were here, we need to know what else they knew.”
“And Anya?”
“Yep.”
They walked in silence for a few minutes then Hil said, “And Martha? NG, who the hell was Martha working for?”
NG turned to look at him. “Honestly? I have no idea. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the JU.”
Looking down at the Bhenykhn ship, the plan didn’t just suck, it was insane. There was a ring of ground troops surrounding it, half of them stationed by heavy weapons platforms, and weapons on the ship itself.
NG stood on the rise, knowing fine well that he was silhouetted against the skyline and standing out a mile. He didn’t care. He’d told Duncan what he wanted and was letting the big man disseminate the orders for the battle.
‘Setting up the pieces very nicely, Nikolai. You do realise he’s adding instructions of his own, don’t you?’
He did. He’d kept his nose out but he was very aware that Duncan was making it clear to everyone that he was to be kept alive at all costs.
Martinez stood beside him. “They’re not going to let us get close.”
“No, they’re not. Hil’s going to have to make it in there on his own.”
As they watched, the Bennies started to change formation, gearing up to face them. NG raised the night vision glasses he’d scrounged from one of the marines and looked along the line. A massive Bhenykhn warrior walked out from amongst them, bigger again than the squad leaders they’d encountered. A thick black cloak was wrapped close about its shoulders. It was hefting an axe and a rifle, what looked like a crossbow and a machete hanging from its belt. It was walking up and down the line, talking out loud by the look of it.
‘That’s your commander, right there. He’s giving a much better speech than you did,’ Sebastian said with a laugh. ‘Much more rousing. Can you feel the emotion he’s generating?’
NG handed the glasses to Martinez.
She watched for a few seconds then cursed. “He’s going to come right for you, NG. This is crazy. We can’t ma
ke a stand here.”
“We’re not going to make a stand, we’re going to attack them.”
She stared at him.
“We don’t have any choice,” he said. “We have to stop them. And if Sebastian’s right, we just need to take him out.”
“And you think we can?”
“I think we can give Hil enough time to do what I need him to do.”
They hit hard, going for the heavy weapons. Got close, fast and dirty. NG went straight for the commander, took a crossbow bolt in his leg and a blow from a chain to the head and ended up hand to hand with a grunt Benny and no idea where anyone else was.
He rolled as it swung an axe down at him, scrambled to his feet and ducked around, drawing a knife and leaping, stabbing down into its neck from behind.
A grenade exploded close by and the Benny roared, rearing backwards and slamming him up against the hull of the ship. The burning in his chest flared, his hold on the knife a desperate grip of fingers that had totally seized up. He thrust it deeper, twisting, feeling muscle and sinew tear. It slammed him backwards again, sending his senses spinning. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t hit that sweetspot that would take it down as much as he tried. It roared again and tried to fling him sideways. He couldn’t let go of the knife and it was jammed stuck in the bastard’s neck.
Shots ricocheted off the stanchion behind them. He felt something burn across his arm and yelled, slicing the knife free and stabbing it in again. The Benny fell backwards. He couldn’t shift fast enough to get away. It hit the floor, full weight on top of him and his world swirled to grey.
Someone grabbed his shoulder in a vice-like grip and he gasped as the weight of the Benny lifted. He was dragged free and flung aside, sprawling in the mud, back out in the rain, fist still clenched around the knife. A kick landed against his ribs before he could move, the force strong enough to pick him up and send him flying.
He hit the ground, crunched into a ball and rolled, managing to look up and focus through blurring vision to see a flash of black cloak as a figure loomed over him and kicked him again. He coughed, tasting blood, hugging an arm around his ribs and close to passing out. It felt like he was drowning.
‘Suck it up, Nikolai,’ Sebastian hissed as time froze in that instant of pain and darkness. ‘You wanted this fight, you’ve got it. Hilyer is inside but they are about ten minutes from launching. Win this, Nikolai. I will not die here.’
He crashed back into reality as the massive Bhenykhn grabbed him around the throat and hauled him to his feet.
He could hear Martinez shouting, trying to fight her way through to him, Hal Duncan was fighting another and LC was pinned down with his unit as they tried to take out one of the big guns.
The grip tightened. He stared eye to eye into the face of this alien warrior, reading in it nothing beyond the heat of combat but a vague curiosity about these human creatures that were causing more trouble than they should have.
NG closed his eyes, focused on the Benny as it squeezed his life away and homed in on the energy pod spiked into the base of its spine. He could feel the small device pumping away in time with its heart. He drew a scrap of energy from somewhere and threw it in one burst at that one small target.
The pulsing pod exploded.
The Benny roared and threw him sideways.
NG scrambled to his knees.
It brought up its rifle and fired.
It felt like he had nothing left but he instinctively conjured a blast of energy from somewhere to deflect the bullet as it flew at him, inches from his heart. He tumbled backwards, trying to get up as the second bullet hit before he knew it was coming. It took him high in the chest and knocked him back.
It took his breath away and lying there, rain streaming down his face, using his last reserves to stop the bleeding and block the pain, all he could think was that he was cold.
The sky was a dark roiling mix of clouds and night.
A figure blocked his view, the stench of leafmold mixing with the cloying smell of mud and blood. It stared down at him.
NG stared back, looking up at the rifle barrel that was pointing vertically down, hovering inches above his eyes.
He felt its intention too late to move as it stamped down on his outstretched arm and it was all he could do not to scream as the bones snapped.
The knife fell out of his fingers.
He was trying to figure out if he could move his left hand fast enough to grab the barrel when bullets started bouncing off the chitinous skin of the Benny’s exposed chest.
Martinez.
One of her shots was flying straight for its head. It moved with inhuman speed, the bullet winging its ear in a spray of blood.
It turned, swinging its rifle round and firing a volley of shots that knocked her down.
NG rolled and struggled to his feet.
Hal Duncan was shouting. LC was shouting. They were out of ammunition and desperately trying to reach him.
If Hil was lucky, he could have the ship disabled by now.
‘Or he could be dead.’
The Bhenykhn commander swung back round to face him, something like a smile twisting its grotesque features.
The only weapon to hand was the bolt sticking out of his leg. He got a weak grip around the shaft and tried to pull.
It stepped forward and kicked him square in the chest.
He sprawled, coughing blood that spattered on the ground.
‘Not impressive, Nikolai.’
The Benny took another step towards him, wielding the rifle in one hand and pulling the crossbow off its belt with the other.
NG couldn’t move, couldn’t get his limbs to obey as much as he tried. He couldn’t stop the bleeding, couldn’t control the pain, head pounding, and waves of agony washing up and down his arm.
It laughed and stamped down hard on his knee, another crunching snap of bone breaking.
He was vaguely aware that someone was trying to speak to him, trying to get his attention.
He raised his head. Luka was running, scrambling and sliding in the mud, dodging through the fight. He yelled at the Bhenykhn commander with cold defiant disregard and NG felt the impact as the kid threw a bolt of energy into its mind.
It recoiled, turning its head slowly, and he grabbed the chance to clamber out of the way. He dragged himself to his feet, one leg giving way, yelling at it, wanting its attention back on him.
It swept its rifle in a casual backhand blow that caught the kid across the temple.
LC hit the ground out cold.
The massive Bhenykhn sneered, then raised its crossbow and fired, the bolt shooting straight down into the kid as he lay there.
NG yelled again.
There was a roar of engines from the alien ship.
The Bhenykhn commander held its weapons out to the side and laughed, dropping them to the ground and advancing, even as NG was trying to scramble away, grabbing him around the throat again with one hand and drawing a knife with the other.
He could hear Duncan shouting.
Talon-like nails pierced his neck. Warm blood flowed.
Everything greyed out and he felt his legs start to buckle, its grip the only thing keeping him upright.
The Bhenykhn lifted him off his feet, pulled him close and plunged the knife into his chest.
Chapter 40
A log cracked with a sharp snap.
“Sacrifice,” she murmured.
“Is always hard.”
He watched as she drank deeply. Disturbed.
She stared at him over the rim of the goblet, her eyes misty through the twirling vapour. “And this is just the beginning.”
•
Time froze. Sebastian hissed, ‘This is not where it ends,’ and NG opened his eyes in a dusty, crowded square.
He drew an easy breath of warm dry air, flexed his right arm and rubbed a hand over his chest.
No pain.
Bright sunlight.
A row of stalls lined one side of the
square, gaudy canopies fluttering in the breeze, trinkets stacked high, rickety tables laden with boxes of all sizes and shapes, some carved in wood, some fashioned with elaborate twisted metal facings, some wrapped in bright silk. Soft chimes mingled with chattering voices and harsh laughter.
NG walked slowly, trailing his hand across a table top, gathering dust on his fingertips.
Someone pushed past him.
There were tents along another side of the square, faded colours and tattered flags, a wooden stage, caravans and trailers.
He was jostled again from behind and he went with the crowd, pushing his way through, drawn towards a commotion. There was a roped off area up ahead, children darting as close as they dared to throw stones at a cage in its centre.
More laughter. NG raised a hand to shield his eyes, squinting.
The scene froze, everyone stopped in their tracks like statues.
“To think, I was trying to get you to die.”
He walked forward slowly, stepping over the rope.
“I didn’t think it would be quite so drawn out.”
The voice was familiar.
Thick metal bars gleamed in the light of the sun. The cage door was sealed shut. No lock.
The child that was sitting in it, cross-legged, smiled. “Or so painful for you.”
NG crouched down in front of it. “Sebastian.”
“See what you’ve done to me, Nikolai. I could be helping you. I could have saved you from all that pain. Instead, there you are – dying. And here I am – trapped.”
Comprehension dawned gradually. “You wanted me to die.”
The boy frowned. “I wanted you weakened. I wanted to take control for good.” Then he smiled suddenly, and NG saw in him the half grin, dimpled, cheeky smile that used to drive Devon to despair. “And it almost worked. It cost me – well, the guild – a fortune, you know.”
“The Assassins. It was you.”