The Glorious Becoming (Epic)

by Lee Stephen

  “She won’t understand,” Esther whispered. “I know that. But you have to do it.”

  Covering his mouth, Scott slid his hand down his chin. This was wrong. This was anti-him. It was a sin.

  “You have to do it.”

  A sin.

  Eyes focused on Natalie’s Vulture, Scott inhaled deeply. He knew what he needed to do. It was the only option he had. Lifting his comm to his lips, he queued up Natalie. “Captain, abort Marshall’s drop.”

  Esther exhaled in relief.

  “Come again, commander?” Natalie asked.

  “I am requesting you abort Marshall’s drop.” There was only one way to ensure that Esther would survive—that she would have the opportunity to pursue Giro Holmes and locate H`laar. It was the only choice he could allow himself to make.

  Natalie was bewildered. “Why? Is something wrong?”

  “This is the right thing to do, Scott,” Esther said assuredly.

  Jaw tightening, Scott answered Natalie. “Nothing’s wrong, captain. I’m dropping with her.”

  Esther’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “Lieutenant Broll will lead my diversion team instead. You wanted trust, ma’am. I’m asking you to trust me.”

  Through the cockpit window, Scott watched as Natalie’s Vulture broke its course. Her voice emerged a moment later. “Bring ’em hell, commander.”

  Scott addressed his pilot. “Maintain your course.” He looked at Auric. “Take the ship down by Captain Rockwell. Do your thing.”

  “My pleasure, commander!” Auric answered.

  “Scott!” said Esther. “Did you hear anything I said?”

  “Our cover is as important as getting H`laar,” Scott said quietly to her, removing his helmet and latching it to his belt. “Now let’s go maintain it.”

  Mouth falling, Esther watched as Scott marched to the rear of the ship. From the seat beside her, Auric smirked. “Oh, bloody save it,” she said to him, saddling her helmet and walking away.

  Standing by the lowered door, Scott watched as the water beneath them zipped by. The Vulture had slowed, but it was by no means traveling slowly. This would be his first water drop since Philadelphia.

  Esther bore daggers into Scott as she stood beside him. Anger emanated from her body.

  “I don’t ask that you agree with me,” Scott said. “I ask that you respect me.”

  “I respect you, Scott,” she said bitterly over the roar of the engines, “but you’re pushing your luck.” She looked away from him as another voice came through her comm. Her expression softened as she replied to it. “I’ll be safe. I promise.”

  She was talking to Jayden. He probably didn’t understand Scott’s reasoning, either. But this was something they had to do. As soon as she was off her comm, he glanced at her sidelong. “Nile crocodiles. You were kidding about that, right?”

  She cocked her eyebrows.

  “Great.”

  Auric’s voice emerged through the comm. “We are passing the Bakma ship. Drop when ready.”

  Drawing a breath, Scott stood by the edge. This was nothing. This was going to be nothing. He crossed his arms. He stifled his breathing.

  He stepped off.

  Sploosh!

  Cold. That was the immediate sensation he felt—even more so than wetness. The drop had been textbook, sinking him several feet before his momentum ran out. Legs kicking, he propelled himself to the surface. As soon as he emerged, he wiped his face and looked for Esther.

  The scout’s head popped up several meters ahead. Whipping her hair out of her face, Esther felt the back of her neck. She began looking around the surface.

  “What?” Scott asked. Far away, the transport lights of their Vulture veered toward Luxor Temple.

  “My extension’s gone.”

  A small lump formed in his gut. Casualty number one.

  “Veck,” the scout said, looking around again.

  “Does it float?” Scott asked.

  “I don’t know, Scott,” she spat. “I forgot to ask the sales clerk about its buoyancy.” She dipped her head back to keep her hair away. “It’s too late now. Come on.” Propelling forward, she swam toward the shore.

  As Scott swam behind her, he found his mind racing. Not about Noboats, or tactical strategy, or ponytail extensions. About something much more dire.

  If a crocodile bites me, I’ve got to go for its eyes. That’s the only way to escape. They usually circle a few times before they strike. That can help me. No. Wait. That’s sharks.

  “Hey,” he said to her, “if a crocodile bites, you still go for the eyes, right?”

  “Just swim, Scott.”

  There was nothing to be afraid of. It was nighttime, anyway. Didn’t crocodiles attack during the day? “They attack during the day, right?”

  “Just swim, Scott.”

  Right. His legs kicked faster.

  The bank near Luxor Temple was made of elevated concrete. Barely a hundred meters away, the Noboat was perched on a stretch of pavement just north of the temple. As soon as Scott and Esther reached the bank, they drifted close together.

  “We can’t move in until we have a diversion,” Esther said. “We need to wait until Rockwell and her team do their clustering.”

  Scott looked around the water’s surface as they continued to stay afloat. “We should probably get on shore.”

  “Listen, Scott.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “After they’ve clustered, we’re going to begin a gradual approach. Hopefully we’ll have reached the ship by the time our phony flankers reveal themselves.”

  Something touched Scott’s leg. He was sure of it. He thought he was sure of it. He spun around in the water.

  Esther eyed him. “Have you been listening to any of this?”

  “Yes. Yes, I’ve been listening. We should probably get on shore.”

  “Scott, there’s nothing here.”

  “I’m not saying there’s something here, I just think it’d be really smart to get on shore.”

  She sighed. “If something wanted to eat us, it’d have done it a long time ago—” Her head suddenly jerked beneath the surface. Her hands flailed under the water.

  Oh my God oh my God oh my God! Scott frantically tried to grab her.

  Her head popped back up. She pushed her wet hair from her face. “I got you, didn’t I?”

  He collapsed flat on his back in the water. It felt like cardiac arrest.

  “You’re such a weenie.”

  On the opposite side of the temple, the pair of Caracal Vultures descended. As their rear bay doors opened, the operatives inside joined the local EDEN resistance.

  Scott and Esther were still bobbing when Natalie’s voice cracked over their radio. “All right, commander. We’re down.”

  “Message received,” Scott said as Esther began to climb on shore. “We’re starting our move.”

  Skidding around a dilapidated car, Natalie shouldered her assault rifle and fired a volley. A Bakma fell before she ducked back. Looking across the street, she found Logan and adjusted her comm to a direct connection. “I want you with Broll.”

  “I’d rather stay with you, ma’am.”

  “I’d rather you listen.”

  The Australian grunted and moved toward Auric’s team.

  Edging around the corner again, Natalie aimed quickly. A precision shot downed another alien. “Welcome to Earth,” she said as she ducked back again.

  Detaching their helmets from their belt clips, Scott and Esther slipped them back over their heads. They activated their TCVs. Lowering to her stomach, Esther crawled toward the Noboat with Scott in tow.

  “How’re we looking, Broll?” Natalie asked over the comm.

  Auric and his troupe were making their way down a street to the south that emptied in the vicinity of the temple. Logan, Jayden, Boris, and a handful of others were with him. “Almost in position, ma’am.”

  “Notify me when you get in position. Don’t flank until my s
ignal.”

  Head lowered, Scott crawled behind Esther as the two steadily made their way toward the Noboat, the sound of their rustling sleeves against concrete the only audible indication of their presence. The cool night air made Scott’s wet body frigid. He contemplated turning on his heaters. Through Scott’s TCVs, he could make out several Bakma gathered far ahead of them, near the area they were to make their approach.

  Esther saw them, too, halting on the ground as she reached back for her pistol. Scott crawled beside her and did the same. Propping their elbows slightly, they simultaneously found the Bakma in their sights.

  Neither could pull the trigger just yet. They needed to wait for Auric to make his flanking known first, then for Natalie’s crew to fortify their positions in the diversion.

  There were four Bakma in total ahead of them. When the time came, they’d both have to shoot quickly to take them all out. “Do you understand why we’re doing this?” he whispered to Esther.

  It took her several seconds to answer. “I understand that you’re you.”

  “Because we’re good enough to.”

  Exhaling resignedly, Esther kept her eyes on target. “And the Titanic was unsinkable.”

  He glanced at her, but said nothing.

  Auric’s voice came over the comm. “We’re in position.”

  “All teams, get ready,” said Natalie. “Commander Remington, are you in position?”

  “In position, ma’am.”

  Esther shifted slightly.

  Natalie went on. “Broll, move on my mark. Remington and Brooking, you two know what to do.” She paused. “Mark.”

  Immediately, Scott saw Auric and his team emerge from the side streets south of the temple, the orange bursts of their assault rifles flashing in the streets. The four Bakma behind the ship looked in their direction.

  “Fire,” whispered Scott, focusing on the leftmost Bakma. He and Esther pulled their triggers at the same time. Both their targets fell. Switching to the remaining Bakma, they downed them, too. Within seconds, all four Bakma had been eliminated.

  Pushing up from the ground, Scott and Esther sprinted for the Noboat’s rear. The forces toward the front and side of the vessel were now solely focused on Auric’s diversion team, granting Scott and Esther free reign to the back of the ship. Skidding against it, Esther removed the small explosive from her side compartment while Scott covered her.

  “How’s it looking, Auric?” asked Scott through his comm via private line.

  Several seconds passed. “Good, captain.” The German was breathing heavily.

  “They’re still staying fixed on you guys?”

  “Yes.” He could be heard skidding and grunting through the mic. “We are closing in.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Scott asked, “Closing in?”

  “Yes. Jayden is on a rooftop covering. Me and Marshall are leading the forward strike. Marshall is...very good.”

  Right then, the inclination struck Scott. They could take this ship without using explosives.

  “She’s ready to burst,” Esther said. The explosive chirped from its perch on the side of the ship.

  Scott held out his hand. “Hang on first.”

  Esther stared at him. Then her eyes grew wide in alarm. “No, Scott. No!”

  “Just listen,” he said.

  “Scott, our mission’s accomplished! We can leave.”

  She didn’t understand. “This ship is here for the taking. We can bring home the salvage.”

  “For what?” her voice rose. “To impress Cairo? To boost the Caracals’ reputation? For the love of God, Scott, we’re here to be spies!”

  He was already queuing up Natalie. “Captain, this is Remington.”

  “Go ahead, commander.”

  Clank!

  Scott’s head was jolted, causing him to stumble against the ship’s hull. Brain buzzing, he watched the world spin on its axis. He shook his head, then focused on Esther. She was glaring beneath her sky-blue visor, handgun firm in her grasp just above his helmet.

  She’d just pistol-whipped him.

  “Listen, Scott Remington, and listen bloody good!” she growled. “We are not here for this. We’re not here for this unit, that woman, or the good of Cairo. We’re here to extract a Ceratopian prisoner and bring him back to The Machine. That is it.”

  “You just pistol-whipped me!” He couldn’t believe it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said sternly, “but you needed it.”

  Natalie’s voice returned on the channel, asking for Scott to repeat his transmission. She hadn’t heard anything from him since he’d commed her.

  Eyeing Esther for a moment, Scott returned to the comm. His voice was subdued. “Disregard that transmission, captain.” Esther was right. He was still trying to be a fulcrum. He needed to be an eidolon. “All right. Let’s blow this thing.”

  Holstering her handgun, Esther nodded. Together they moved out of range.

  The rest of the mission went like clockwork. It was downright boring. As soon as Scott and Esther were out of the detonation radius, the scout activated the explosive and sent the Noboat rocking upright, where it came to a rickety landing several meters from its original position. When the Bakma reacted to the blast, Natalie, Auric, the Caracals, and Luxor’s EDEN forces made their push. With a damaged Noboat and no means of escape, Grrashna came quickly.

  The mission was a resounding success. It was also unlike any mission Scott had been a part of. It felt tame. There hadn’t even been a second Noboat, as he’d predicted prior to launch. Though numerous Caracal operatives had been injured in the operation, none had lost their lives.

  The mission’s success hadn’t been due to brazen charging, or adrenaline bursts, or outright brutality, but to well thought-out planning. Natalie had used all of the tools at her disposal, namely Esther, to create a disadvantage for the Bakma—the detonating Noboat—while her crew played an incredibly safe game of bide time. There was perhaps no other way that the mission could have turned out so resoundingly well, considering the total inexperience of the crew involved. The mission’s success hadn’t been luck. It had been doing things the way they’d needed to be done. Solid leadership.

  Natalie’s words to Scott upon meeting in the streets of Luxor were simple: “Excellent work, commander. Brooking.” But the twinkle in her eye—and the wink she gave him after—was indicative of her true mood. She was holding everything in in front of her inexperienced unit, reserving her praise to generic statements about teamwork and belief in each other. In reality, she had confetti in her bloodstream.

  During the flight back to Cairo, the members of Scott’s covert crew said little, swapping only occasional ‘that was close’ expressions—not at the outcome of the mission, but that their cover through the mission had remained intact. Scott had even learned something about himself during the ordeal: he couldn’t be heartless. He couldn’t relegate Natalie’s success to a bonus category. Doing well for her was as much of a priority to him as it was to their true task.

  For as much as he had in common with Esther, there was a major difference between them: she could turn off her compassion. She could choose not to be good. He hoped Jayden was ready to deal with that.

  As for Scott, he was tired of slinking around in the shadows trying to conform to a mission that was as far removed from his style as any mission could possibly be. This was who he was—an aggressor. Someone so confident in his crew’s ability, failure wasn’t even a blip on his radar. Like the captain of the Titanic, with no icebergs in sight.

  The co-conspirators reentered the Anthill and went to their rooms, Scott and Esther to rinse the filth of the industrial Nile from their bodies, and Auric, Jayden, and Boris to prepare for slumber ahead of them.

  By 0200, they finally found sleep.

  29

  FRIDAY, MARCH 16TH, 0012 NE

  0958 HOURS

  THE CORRIDOR BURST with the sound of ten thousand rushing winds. Metal twisted and groaned. The world spun. Esther flai
led in desperation—there was nothing to grab onto. She screamed.

  Golathochs surrounded her. Klaxons wailed in every direction. Shouts of agony and death permeated the air as purple-skinned warriors boarded their vessel. Their plasma guns erupted bright white.

  Flash!

  They were standing before her now—the Bakma. They were dragging her by her hands, their frenzied words barking back and forth. They were taking her.

  Flash!

  She was bound by metal clasps. Mists blasted her face. The world was dark, ultraviolet. All around her were mechanical things, robotic things. Things she’d never seen. Her heart leapt to escape from her chest. Thrust forward, she nearly collided against something. But it grabbed her.

  It was faceless—black like tar. Bulges were where eyes should have been. There was no nose, no mouth, nothing. When it spoke, her head screamed in whispers.

  Flash!

  The thing was gone. She was with the Bakma.

  She was part of their crew.

  Throwing herself out of bed, Esther shrieked and propelled herself across the floor in frantic pushes. Jayden and Boris jolted upright beneath their respective covers. “Esther?” the Texan asked.

  Esther was slapping herself all over, fighting away sensations that weren’t there. Then everything came up. Buckling forward, vomit was spewed onto the floor—a natural response to an Ithini’s mental presence.

  “Esther!” Jayden leapt from his bed, quickly looking at the clock. It was ten o’clock in the morning. Their comms were silent.

  Tears streamed down Esther’s face. “Oh my God!” She pushed back her hair and repeated the words.

  “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”

  Moaning horrifyingly, she spit on the floor then covered her eyes. Her skin was almost pale.

  “I’m commin’ the medical staff,” Jayden said, reaching for his comm.

  “No!” she screamed, shaking her head defiantly.

  He knelt by her side, hands supporting her. “What is it? You gotta tell me what’s wrong!”

  “I saw it,” she said through tears of sickness. “I saw it!”

  “Saw what?”

  She covered her mouth in terror. “It grabbed me. It was alive. I could taste it. I could smell it!”