by Jack Halls
“I’m fine,” said the admiral, his voice coming through stronger this time. “I’m feeling a lot better now. What’s the situation, Gideon?” It wasn’t his father asking the question right now, it was Admiral Ethan Killdeer. One and a half centuries of unquestioned authority added a certain weight to a person’s words.
It took a minute for Gideon to organize his thoughts. Once he did, he was able to give his father his version of events. The admiral listened, sometimes asking a clarifying question, occasionally going wide eyed, but for the most part, he listened in silence. He clenched his jaw when Gideon told him of Morgan Devereux’s betrayal, and only lost his composure when Gideon explained the execution of Alexia Uritumbo. Gideon had never seen his father look so livid, or curse so vehemently. In fact, Gideon had never seen either of those things at all.
When Gideon had finished, the admiral sat for some time, staring into the fire. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for several minutes. Gideon would have assumed his father had fallen asleep were it not for tears finding their way out from the corners of his eyes and down his cheeks. Gideon wanted to say something, but didn’t trust himself to speak. He was unused to seeing his father show emotion.
Admiral Killdeer opened his eyes and pulled himself up, wiping tears from his cheeks. He cleared his throat and pulled the yellow globules off his skin. “We better get going,” he said, shaking one of the yellow blobs off his fingers. “Who knows what else Devereux is capable of. You and I have got to stop him.”
“Hold on,” said Gideon, standing up. “You’re in no shape to travel, and Devereux has a dozen henchmen in Sentinel Armor to back him up. What are the two of us going to do against them?”
“I told you,” said the admiral, grunting as he tried to stand up, “we’re going to stop them. Now help me up, would you?”
Gideon hesitated, then took his father’s hand and hoisted him to his feet. Gideon supported him while he regained his balance, and after a moment, his father walked around on unsteady feet. “There, you see? I’m fine. I just needed some rest, that’s all.”
“Dad, you can barely walk. The camp is over a hundred kilometers from here, through some pretty rough country. You need to rest and build up your strength before we can even think about making that trek.”
“You forget,” said the admiral with a half grin, “I’ve still got my Sentinel Armor, and you’ve got your fancy... kokamoka armor, or whatever you call it.”
“Koramoa Armor,” said Gideon. “But it won’t do me any good. I don’t know how to use it. Might as well be a fancy bracelet.”
Admiral Killdeer tilted his head and eyed the gold bracer on Gideon’s wrist. “I have a pretty good idea about how it works.” He bent over and picked up a small stone. Before Gideon could think, his father hurled the stone at him, hitting him squarely in the chest.
“Hey!” said Gideon. “That hurt.”
Before Gideon could protest further, the admiral picked up a much larger stone and threw it at him. Gideon closed his eyes and threw up his arms, anticipating a painful blow any moment. Instead, he heard a loud metallic gong. He opened his eyes to see a golden disc blocking his father from view. When he moved his arm, he realized the golden disc was attached to his wrist. The disc folded back in on itself until it was just a bracer around his wrist once again.
Gideon looked up to see his father smirking at him.
“What just happened?” Gideon asked.
“The armor reacted to your need, your... instinct,” said the admiral. “You don’t control it with conscious thought or action, any more than you consciously controlled your hands moving up to protect your face. It’s a part of you now.”
Gideon looked at the gold band around his wrist. “How did you know that would work?”
Admiral Killdeer shrugged. “I didn’t. Just a hunch, that’s all. Thought it was worth a try.”
“You didn’t know?” said Gideon, glaring at his father. “What if it hadn’t worked?”
Another shrug. “Then you’d have a really big goose egg right now.”
“Well, next time you have a bright idea, try conducting the experiment on yourself.”
“I did,” said the admiral, raising one eyebrow, “that’s how I ended up here.” Gideon stood speechless, then his father walked over to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “But now we know two things. I can do a halo jump from low orbit in Sentinel Armor, and you can control your Krakatoa Armor with your mind. See how much you learn when you’re willing to take a little risk?”
“Koramoa.”
“What?”
Gideon rolled his eyes. “It’s called Koramoa Armor.”
“Right. Sorry. Koramoa Armor. I think those yellow globs put some drugs in me. Just feeling a little odd.” Admiral Killdeer turned and walked over to his Sentinel Armor. He already seemed a lot steadier on his feet. Gideon made a mental note not to underestimate his father’s tenacity, or his throwing arm. The admiral held up the suit and inspected it.
“It’s pretty beat up,” he said, “but I think it’ll work. Help me get this on.”
Gideon shook his head as he walked over to his father. “I still think you need some rest,” he mumbled, but helped his father into the suit anyway. Once it was on, it activated without any problem, sealing itself and running a diagnostic. The admiral walked around the cave to test it out. It wasn’t operating at one hundred percent, but both Gideon and his father were happily surprised at how well it was performing after so much abuse.
“These suits never fail to amaze me.” The admiral picked through the supplies for anything useful, pausing a moment to look at Tloltan’s burial mound before continuing his search. They found that one of the bags was actually an ingenious backpack. They loaded it up, and the admiral muscled it onto his back. It would have been much too heavy to carry without Sentinel Armor. Admiral Killdeer adjusted the pack and turned to look at Gideon.
“Well,” he said, “suit up.”
Gideon threw his hands in the air. “I told you, I don’t know how.”
“Yes, you do,” said the admiral. “Do I need to throw a bigger rock?”
“It’s not that easy,” said Gideon. “I don’t know how I blocked that stone.”
Admiral Killdeer sighed impatiently. “Close your eyes.”
“I tried that, Dad. Nothing happened.”
“Humor me, son.”
Gideon rolled his eyes, but did as he was told.
“Now,” his father said, “don’t try to command the armor, just think about what you want it to do. Concentrate on the end result.”
In his mind’s eye, Gideon tried to picture himself wearing the armor. He wasn’t sure if it was working or not, but he thought his wrist tingled a little. A moment later, the tingling spread across his whole body. He blinked and looked at his father. The admiral was smiling back at him.
“You look quite impressive, Koramoa.”
Gideon looked at his arms, and as he did, he saw a flash of gold. He did a double take. Both his arms and hands were completely clad in the intricate runes of the golden armor. A quick look at his legs told him they were covered the same way. His chest was also covered, although in a more elaborate and stylized pattern.
He gently put his hands to his head and face. Somehow, he could feel through the armor, as if it were his own skin. The armor went right over his face and eyes, yet his vision was completely unobstructed. “This is so weird,” he said, then caught his breath at the sound of the deep, hollow tone of his own voice coming through the armor.
Admiral Killdeer walked up to Gideon and removed one of his gloves. He reached out and touched the armor at Gideon’s shoulders, which jutted out in mean-looking spikes. Gideon flinched as his father’s hand moved over his face. There was a strange sensation as his fingers poked the eyes of the mask, but no pain or discomfort at all.
“Impressive armor,” the admiral whispered. “You look... terrifying.”
Gideon stepped back, disoriented by the lack
of extra weight he would have expected from the armor. “You have no idea how strange this is. I can’t even feel it.”
“Incredible,” said the admiral. “I can’t even fathom the technology that makes this possible. You ought to see yourself.”
Gideon turned and walked to the stacks of supplies, rummaging through them until he found what he had been looking for. It was a metal box, reflective enough to act as a makeshift mirror. It wasn’t a perfect reflection, but he could see the mask covering his face was the same demonic expression that Tloltan had worn.
As his father walked up to stand beside him, Gideon thought he could make out a faint pink aura emanating from him. On top of that, he noticed his peripheral vision was wider, and in general, everything seemed a little bit sharper.
“How do you feel?” the admiral asked.
“It’s hard to describe. I don’t feel the armor at all, but I think my sight and hearing are more sensitive.” He sniffed the air. “And my sense of smell is stronger.”
“Fascinating,” said the admiral, looking Gideon up and down. “Do you feel stronger? Physically, I mean?”
Gideon looked at his hand and made a fist, flexing his arm as he did so. “Not really. I don’t feel any change at all.”
Admiral Killdeer looked around the cave. “Hmm. We need to test it on something. Come on, Gid. Follow me.”
He walked toward the cave entrance, and Gideon followed. Once outside, the two of them stood in the sun, Admiral Killdeer in his black Sentinel Armor, and Gideon in the golden armor of a Koramoa. The admiral looked around, then pointed at a boulder next to the cave opening.
“Do you think you can move that rock in front of the cave entrance?”
The boulder wasn’t excessively large, and could probably be moved fairly easily with Sentinel Armor. Gideon shrugged and walked over to one side of it, planted his feet, and leaned into the stone.
Nothing happened. At least, not at first. The boulder might as well have been a mountain, and he had to check to make sure he was still wearing the armor. He closed his eyes, and imagined the boulder rolling over and settling right in front of the cave entrance. Suddenly, he was falling, and he opened his eyes to see the boulder had given way, and he stumbled forward and crashed into it as it rolled in front of the entrance.
After making sure the huge rock wouldn’t roll back, Gideon stood straight and looked back at his father.
“Not bad,” said the admiral. “Looks like you’ve got the hang of it.”
“I don’t know,” said Gideon, looking back at the stone. “It’s going to take a bit of practice. I have to use my brain as much as my muscles.”
The admiral laughed. “Well, in that case, we’re all in big trouble.”
Before Gideon could think up a good comeback about it being a genetic problem, the admiral turned and marched down the ravine. “Hold up, Dad. Where are you going?”
The admiral paused and looked over his shoulder. “I told you, we’ve got to go find Devereux and stop him before he does any more damage.”
With a bit of concentration, Gideon was able to remove just the “helmet” portion of the armor. “Are you sure about that, Dad? I could use some more practice with this armor, and you were unconscious a couple hours ago. Shouldn’t we wait until we’re more prepared to go get into a fight?”
The admiral turned to look at him. “Trust me, I would love to stick around and get some more rest, but I’ve got a bad feeling about Devereux and his plans now that he’s gotten the rest of us out of the way. He’s not going to wait until you and I are more prepared.”
“Shouldn’t we find Takomi and Joseph and Sophia first? That ship might still be where I left it, and we could use their help.”
“A minute ago, you were worried we weren’t prepared to fight Devereux and a handful of his goons. Now you want to barge into an alien ship full of warriors that probably know more about that armor than you do?”
Gideon looked down at his feet. “We can’t just leave them there.”
The admiral looked up at his son, then walked forward and placed his hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “We’re not giving up on them, Gideon. I want to find them as much as you do, but if you walk into that ship again unprepared, you won’t be so lucky this time. When you’ve lost a battle, you need to regroup and plan the next mission. Devereux needs to be stopped, then we can figure out how we’re going to rescue the others.”
Gideon looked up into his father’s face and nodded. He sniffed, and took a deep breath. “What about Padre and the others? I really wouldn’t mind having Vincent around when we take on Devereux.”
“I’m hoping we’ll find them on the way back, but I don’t think we can spend too much time looking. We may have to come back for them as well.”
Gideon frowned. “I don’t like it, but I guess you’re right.”
The admiral smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll find them, Gid. For now, let’s see what else this armor can do.”
CHAPTER FORTY
The Coup
“I DON’T LIKE this plan,” said Gideon. They had traveled all day and well into the night, spending several hours searching the forest for any trace of Connor, Padre and Vincent. Discouraged, they decided to continue on, and now they hid a few dozen meters outside the perimeter of the camp.
The moons were full once again, giving them plenty of light. After some practice, Gideon was becoming fairly adept at getting the armor to go on and off. His father’s plan, however, left little room for error. Standing a stone’s throw from the perimeter of the camp with the gold band around his wrist made him feel vulnerable.
His father winked at him. “You’ll be fine, Gid. Like I keep telling you, it works off your instincts. When you need it, it’ll work.”
“Humph,” grunted Gideon. “Let’s hope that it works before the bullets start flying. In fact, we haven’t even determined if this suit’s bulletproof or not.”
“After what we’ve seen it do, it’s a safe assumption. Besides, they’re going to be in shock when you transform in front of them. Now go rub some mud on your face. It will make it that much more convincing.”
Gideon muttered something about his father’s protective instincts, but did as he was told. When the admiral was satisfied that Gideon’s face was properly soiled, he had him hold out his wrists and wrapped some twine around them. It was a decent knot for the job, tight enough to look convincing but loose enough so that all it took was a quick jerk to free his hands.
“Remember,” said the admiral as he stashed the gear from the cave under a bush, “I’m going to be a bit rough on you. Don’t let the armor take the abuse for you until the right moment.”
Gideon’s left eyebrow jerked up. “I’m telling you, it’s not too late to rethink this plan.”
Admiral Killdeer shook his head. “The crew could be in danger each moment Devereux’s in control. We need the element of surprise to avoid any collateral damage. I can’t think of anything better right now. Can you?”
Gideon sighed. “No, I can’t. I wish I trusted this armor as much as you do.”
Admiral Killdeer walked over to Gideon and looked at him with a sad smile. “Gid,” he began, “I have no doubt that your Koramoa Armor is up to the task, but it’s not the armor I’m placing my trust in. It’s you. Don’t forget that I’m putting my life on the line, too. I probably don’t tell you this enough, but I’m proud of the man you’ve become, and I trust you and the skills you’ve learned and developed. Tonight, you’ll probably have to use that armor, and those skills, to take the life of another. Do you think you’ll be able to do that?”
Gideon looked straight into his father’s eyes, rolling the question around in his head. “I killed an animal when we first landed here, and I killed one of the Krin with nothing but a club.”
“Killing an animal, or even an alien, is not the same as killing one of your own. These are people you’ve known your whole life, your mentors. I hope they’ll see reason, but if not, he
sitating might prove fatal for you, or me, or for innocent people. I’m asking if you’re ready for that.”
Gideon thought about the rasp, about how he had let it live, and people had died because of that decision. He looked his father squarely in the eye. “If it comes to it, I’ll do what I need to.” His voice sounded more confident than he felt.
His father looked down. “I had hoped that Valkyrie would mean an end to the killing for good. I’m sorry that it’s become your crucible. I want you to know, I’m proud of you.” He put his hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “Now,” he continued, “are you ready?”
Gideon nodded. “You were always good at speeches.”
Admiral Killdeer grunted and pulled his visor down, then picked up Gideon, throwing him over his shoulder like a rag doll. “Let’s go.”
The admiral carried Gideon toward the camp, not bothering to be quiet anymore. Gideon did his best to look unconscious. As they approached the camp, Gideon could smell the wood smoke and hear voices drift through the trees. He fought the urge to look at his surroundings and concentrated on remaining limp.
“Hey,” said a voice a few meters ahead of them, “who’s there?” The admiral changed course, walking for a few meters before stopping. “Oh, it’s one of you. What you got there?” Gideon recognized Gavin McLeod’s Scottish accent.
The admiral turned and set Gideon down on the ground. Gideon wanted to say something to Gavin, but held his tongue and continued to play dead. There was a pause, then Gavin’s footsteps came a bit closer.
“Holy... is that Gideon? Where the devil did he come from? Is he....”
Gavin made a small yelp, and Gideon cracked open an eyelid in time to see his father pick the poor man up by his collar and slam him against a tree with one hand while disarming him with the other. The admiral looked around to see if anyone else had heard the commotion, then raised his hand to the side of his helmet and opened his visor.
Gavin’s eyes grew wide, and a small sound came out of his throat. “Admiral,” he whispered.