Fall of Icarus

by Jon Messenger

  Through the haze of his vision, Yen could see the mocking smile of Achilles, staring up from his place on top of the water. Though Yen could see the Terran’s lips move first as if forming words and then laughing heartily, the sounds never penetrated Yen’s ears. All he heard was the pounding of his fading pulse rushing through his head, sounding like the beating drums of a war party on the march, moving off toward a distant kill. Yen hated Achilles; he hated everything the Terran was. An abomination, a scientific experiment, unnatural. To a pure born psychic, the fact that Yen would soon be killed at the hands of a freak of nature was abysmal. Even though he neared death, a furious rage still burned through Yen’s body. If he could only find a way to break free, Yen would exact a most painful and permanent revenge on his Terran counterpart.

  Even as Yen’s consciousness faded away and the beating in his ears retreated even further, a single gunshot split through the rain-soaked air. Achilles staggered as blood sprayed from his shoulder. The shot had only been glancing, barely grazing Achilles; a much less impressive shot than Yen had hoped for. Achilles’ reaction to the gunshot, however, was remarkable. His concentration broken, the Terran sank into the water, finally coming to rest with the pond lapping above his knees. Turning, Achilles was able to raise his psychic shield before a volley of gunfire erupted from the tree line to Yen’s left. The rounds ricocheted off the wavering red shield in front of the Terran as Achilles threw his arms up protectively in front of his face.

  To Yen’s surprise, the pressure on his chest and neck began to lessen. Cold air slipped down his throat and burned his lungs, which cried out for more. In hitched breaths, Yen drew the moist air into his lungs and coughed painfully, feeling each breath burn painfully in his throat. As the psychic grip slackened on his body, so did the height at which Yen was being held. Slowly, Yen drifted back down into the frigid waters of the pond.

  Gripping his chest tightly, Yen turned and watched as Achilles regained his composure. Stepping toward the Alliance gunmen, Yen’s own soldiers who had accompanied him into the park, Achilles rose out of the water until once again he glided across the surface. The Alliance bullets continued to ricochet harmlessly away, none able to find a weakness in Achilles’ defenses. Reaching out with both hands, Achilles closed his eyes as his outstretched fingers angled toward the trees behind which the soldiers hid. Quickly closing his hands into tight fists, the trees exploded one by one, the bark and splintered wood becoming deadly projectiles which flew into the faces and exposed flesh of the Alliance soldiers. Skin shredded under the assault, spraying the grass behind each of the men with gore. Only the soldiers’ torsos, protected by the dense body armor, escaped the great punishment that the rest of their bodies endured. Collapsing to the ground, hardly recognizable as the once distinct soldiers they had been, Yen could only hear the weak mewling of the dying men from where he sat in the water.

  Despite Achilles’ ferocious assault, Yen managed a confident smile. In a moment, Achilles had annihilated four of Yen’s best soldiers. But, simultaneously, he had shown something Yen had waited a long time to see: Achilles had a weakness.

  Turning back toward his prey, Achilles frowned at seeing Yen pushing himself to his feet in the cold water. “I would have guessed that by now you would have had the common sense to die.”

  Yen coughed, his chest still aching from Achilles’ last attack. “I never was a very quick learner.”

  Achilles strode forward dangerously, a predatory look in his eyes. “I’ll just have to do a better job of teaching you this time.” The air around Achilles began to flicker as he let the psychic energy build.

  Yen backed away until he was near the short end of the rectangular lake. Behind the stalking Terran, silhouetted in the darkening sky, Yen could still see the large stone monument watching like a sentient judge of the day’s battle. Surprising Achilles, Yen didn’t show a level of fear that the Terran would have expected. Instead, Yen smiled broadly. When he had been suspended in the air, Yen had wanted nothing more than another opportunity at revenge against the Terran. Given that opportunity, he wasn’t about to let it pass.

  “I think it’s about time I taught you a lesson instead,” Yen replied.

  Reaching to his belt, Yen quickly unclipped one of the grenades hanging there. In a swift motion, he pressed the grenades activation button as he tossed it forward, its trajectory taking it straight toward the Terran’s chest. Red lights flared to life around the equator of the grenade as the short fuse counted down toward detonation.

  Opening his hand, his palm facing the grenade and Yen, Achilles laughed as the grenade came to a stop in mid air, hovering only a couple feet in front of the Terran. The circling red light stopped flickering around the explosive as Achilles let out a hearty, crazed laugh.

  “A grenade?” he said in disbelief. “The two greatest psychics in the universe face each other and you insult me by attacking with a grenade? What’s wrong with you?”

  Yen heard the faint cracking as the shell of the grenade broke apart along it’s seams. The individual outer plates floated away from the grenade’s core, floating in an orbit around the rest of the explosive. From where Yen stood, he could clearly see the rest of the grenade’s inner workings. Hovering, encased in red psychic energy, the detonator was separated from the rest of the explosive, pulled apart by Achilles’ will.

  “I had such high hopes for you, Yen,” Achilles mocked as he began dismantling the core of the grenade. First, the explosive components fell harmlessly into the cool water at Achilles’ feet. Then, he pulled apart the more volatile detonator and explosive caps. “I thought that you would show up on Earth like Death riding his pale horse. You would stream through the cities, leaving piles of Terran soldiers in your wake, piled like lost souls caught in eddies on the River Styx.” Achilles let the last of the components drop into the water before returning his gaze to Yen, his eyes flaring angrily with inner red light. “But instead, you come to me with little control over your vast power. You are easily defeated without even so much as a strain on my part. Then… then when you finally show some inner strength, the best you can do is throw a meager grenade at me! You don’t deserve to exist in my universe!”

  “I’m not done yet,” Yen growled. In rapid succession, Yen unclipped the other three grenades from his belt and launched them at the infuriated Terran. All three flew through the air in perfect arcs, guided by Yen’s psychic power. And each of the three, much as the single grenade had done previously, were stopped before coming in contact with Achilles.

  One by one, the lights went out around the circumferences of the grenades as Achilles deactivated their detonators. Howling in frustration, Achilles waved his hand and the shell around the first grenade exploded outward, exposing the core within. Yen didn’t flinch as the shell rebounded off his psychic shield, glanced away, and disappeared into the surrounding darkness. Above the pair, as if in response to their own brewing anger, lightning split the dark sky.

  “You’re not even listening to me!” Achilles yelled as the rain grew heavier, splashing across the surface of the pond. “You have incredible untapped potential, yet you struggle to think of anything except the most mundane of attacks. I can’t believe you would even waste my time with these… things.”

  “One of your…” Yen began before the words faded away. He could feel his power building inside of him, rising like an unchecked tide coursing through his body. Swallowing hard, he continued. “One of your… biggest faults… is that you… underestimate people too much.”

  Blue tendrils of power arced across Yen’s body, rolling as though his body were a lightning rod, conducting unseen sources of psychic energy. In front of Achilles, the grenades inched forward and the one of the far right flickered back to life. Snarling, Achilles focused deeper, shutting down the grenade once more.

  “Here you are, nearly killing yourself, and for what? To inch a grenade just a little closer to me? In the end, I’m still more powerful than you will ever be. You’re just
delaying the inevitable!”

  “Nothing… is inevitable,” Yen gasped. His eyes watered as pressure built in his temple and the strain began to cause physical pain in his spine. Yen’s cornea was consumed with blue as the energy saturated his body. From within his mind, Yen could hear the joyful chorus of the psychic power crying out at its freedom. Shivering from far more than the cold, Yen concentrated harder.

  The metal casings that had been blown free from the first grenade launched across the surface of the pond, reforming around the grenade’s core. With a flash of brilliant blue light, the shell reformed and fused together.

  “Stop that!” Achilles yelled as the casing blew apart once more. This time, Achilles didn’t bother angling the shards of metal toward Yen. Instead, the shell flew away and splashed into the water, joining the remains of its previously dismantled brother. “You’re wasting both our time! You’re a fossil, Yen Xiao! You’re a has-been. You’re little more than a footnote in this war! When I’m done with you, history books won’t even remember you! Just lie down and die like a good puppy!”

  Psychic power roared through Yen’s core. His head whipped backward in surprise as the energy shattered through Yen’s controls and countermeasures. Never before had Yen pushed himself so far or so hard. The anger which he struggled to contain merged with the psychic power and fed it, letting it grow like a sentient leech, feeding off Yen’s own essence in order to defeat so strong an opponent. Blue tendrils broke free of the yellowed skin on Yen’s back, reaching out like the legs of a spider. They reached around his body, snapping out toward Achilles like chained animals. At their tips, they elongated into razor-sharp spines and blades while still others formed hungry maws filled with row after row of saw-like teeth. Yen’s power was free of his control and was eager for retribution against Achilles.

  Even the Terran seemed startled by Yen’s sudden transformation. He stepped backward in surprise, his feet skimming the water. The grenades before him gave chase, remaining only just beyond a foot away. Yen’s lips pulled back into a malicious snarl as blue light poured from his eyes.

  “Impressive,” Achilles said breathlessly. “It looks like you’re finally accepting who you are and who you have the potential to be.” The Terran’s eyes narrowed as he continued. “But it still won’t be enough. You’re wasting all this energy and you’re still no closer to detonating these grenades!”

  “I noticed… a weakness about you… Achilles,” Yen said, his voice little more than a rumbling growl. “Science may have… given you the power… but your abilities… are limited. You don’t seem… to be able to use your powers… to multitask.”

  Achilles seemed taken aback by Yen’s accusation. Frowning, his nostrils flaring in anger, the Terran glowered at his enemy. “What makes you think I can’t? I’ve focused on all three grenades simultaneously. And what about you? You’ve been straining all this time on these grenades and you’re still not strong enough to get them to me! I’m still stronger than you!”

  Yen smiled wickedly. When he spoke, gone was the breathy, weary tone he had taken before. “And what makes you think that I’ve been concentrating on the grenades?”

  Lightning split the sky, revealing a massive shadow that blanketed the area around Achilles. In horror, Achilles looked skyward. Above him, held aloft by Yen’s power, the giant stone monument hovered, its pointed tip turned downward like the point of an enormous spear. His body shaking, the Terran turned his gaze back toward Yen. Though Yen could feel the coppery taste in the back of his throat and could feel blood oozing from his nostril, he still smiled.

  “You wouldn’t,” Achilles hissed in disbelief.

  Releasing his psychic control over the monument, tons of stone came crashing down on top of Achilles and the grenades. The ground beneath Yen’s feet shook violently, throwing him into the water, as the giant stones fell one by one on top of the Terran psychic. Sprays of water filled the air as the monument crushed the outer walls of the pond, sloshing its shallow waters into the soft, grassy earth beyond its borders. Clouds of dust billowed outward, stinging Yen’s eyes and burning in his already raw throat.

  As the last of the stones fell to the ground, Yen pushed himself to his feet, brushing off what debris and dust he could. His hair was matted with water and grey dust and his face was pale white. Only his eyes still burned with the intense blue inner light, glowing brightly in the dark night air. Stepping out of the water, Yen shook himself free. Almost as an afterthought, he released the last bit of his psychic control. From beneath the piles of rubble, Yen smiled as he heard three muffled explosions; the final nail in Achilles’ coffin.

  Pain roared through Yen’s brain as he staggered forward. Leaning heavily on one of the nearby trees, Yen closed his eyes as tears cut tracks down his dust-covered face. His eyes closed, Yen didn’t notice the blue tendrils that reached out from his body on their own volition. As he pushed away from the tree and tried to regain his bearings, the tendrils lashed out at the tree behind him, scoring long tears across its bark.

  Yen’s nerves felt like they were on fire, but a single thought was able to cut through his pain and distraction. Somewhere, close by, Doctor Solomon was hiding in his laboratory. The doctor had already suffered strike one when he mutated the Seques and killed so many of Yen’s friends. Strike two was modifying Deplitoxide to disable the engines on Alliance Cruisers. And now, as though adding insult to injury, Doctor Solomon had created the abomination Yen had just faced. There would be no other opportunities for the doctor to become a God.

  Anger boiled beneath the surface of Yen’s skin as the tendrils whipped in anticipation. Not only would Solomon no longer play God, Yen would do one better. It was time to send the doctor to meet his maker.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Cardax had escaped.

  The words rolled through Keryn’s mind like a poison, burning away her reason and leaving only a vacant, aching hole in her chest. The reality of her situation washed over her in crashing waves that threatened to drown her. Choking back sobs, Keryn lowered her head to her hands and let the hot, salty tears spill from her eyes.

  Keryn had failed not just her mission, but she had failed her team as well. Regardless of Adam’s comforting words on Pteraxis, she had led her team into a trap from which two of her teammates didn’t survive. A third now lay in the medical bay, his blood smearing the floor beneath the operating table. With a sigh of resignation, Keryn realized that she couldn’t even bring herself to go check on McLaughlin. Though she hadn’t seen him since they climbed aboard the Cair Ilmun, she knew she couldn’t face the accusing looks in the eyes of the surviving team.

  Sitting in the cockpit, Keryn felt abandoned. Her hands drifted aimlessly toward the console and brought up the radar. The small red dot marking Cardax’s ship was beginning to fade from the screen as he sped out of the galaxy. Soon, he would be beyond the Cair Ilmun’s radar range and would be unreachable. She knew that they should begin pursuit, but depression weighed heavily on her shoulders. She couldn’t bring herself to activate the engines and begin the chase. Even if she did, Keryn wondered what the result would be. Would they catch Cardax on another of his bribed planets? Would she lead them into another trap? Would she have to watch the rest of her team die before she finally died herself?

  The responsibility of leadership was a burden to Keryn, one that she had to bear alone. Except, she realized, she never should have had to bear it alone. There should have been someone supporting her, keeping her from trouble, and protecting her every step of the way. Had it been there for her, she might have been able to avoid the trap on Pteraxis and Rombard and Keeling would still be alive. McLaughlin wouldn’t be in the medical bay, fighting for his life. Keryn might have cut herself off from the rest of the team, but she was abandoned long before they ever reached Pteraxis.

  Her pity quickly turned to anger as she yelled out into the empty cockpit. “Where are you? I know you’re here! Answer me, damn you!”

  I’m here, the Voice
replied coolly. I’ve always been here.

  Keryn bared her teeth in a snarl of frustration. “Don’t you give me that condescending tone! Where have you been? I needed you and you abandoned me!”

  I can’t abandon you any easier than I can create my own body and walk away. I’m a part of you, whether we like it or not.

  “My team was ambushed,” she replied, feeling her anger grow at the Voice’s blasé attitude. “Some of them died. I could have died! You don’t care about that, do you?”

  But you didn’t die, the Voice hastily answered. You are still alive, aren’t you?

  “That’s not the point, and you know it! My team needed you and you weren’t there for us.”

  Let us clarify some things, the Voice said angrily. Keryn could feel its irritation in her mind. You wanted me gone. You cast me out of your mind when you severed the merger between us. I may be a part of you, but I am also a sentient entity with the memories of hundreds of your ancestors in my consciousness. And I have never been as insulted by a Wyndgaart as I was by you. You used me for your own gain when you were in danger, but once that danger had passed, you cast me out. Banished me to a hell you can’t begin to comprehend. So I’m sorry if I’m not overly sympathetic to your plight.