by Chris Fox
She had no time for cracking fancy locks, neither through ingenuity nor casting. After a brief glance at the door, she stood and brought the butt of her Jensen down hard on one of the more fragile-looking cases, smashing it apart.
Her luck seemed to be holding. Inside the case was an oblong object. From the complex design carved at one end, she guessed it was some kind of seal or stamp. More importantly, the artifact displayed the finely grained effect of wood. Carina drove down the butt of her Jensen again, the blow jarring her arms.
She’d split the seal at one end. Squatting, she dug her fingers into the split and ripped the object apart. She extracted a thin splinter and rubbed it into fine strands.
From outside came the sound of footsteps running downstairs, getting nearer. No time remained to figure out if the seal was natural wood and not another clever synthetic. Carina took out her canister of elixir, unscrewed it, and dropped in the strands. She swirled the mixture once, brought it to her lips and swallowed a mouthful.
The elixir was foul-tasting, as usual, but Carina barely registered the taste anymore. Her eyes were closed and she was already drawing the ideogram in her mind, willing herself to ignore the steps that were drawing closer.
Creating the ideogram required the utmost concentration. The Cast was useless unless the strokes were completed perfectly and in the correct order. One after another they appeared in her mind’s eye.
Just as she drew the final stroke, someone ran in. Carina’s eyes flew open and grabbed for her weapon, which was slung over her shoulder, but the newcomer was merc officer Lieutenant Torres.
“Come with me, Lin,” the lieutenant said. “Up to the—”
Torres fell forward, the back of her helmet a ruined, burning mess. She squirmed at Carina’s feet. Behind her, framed by the door, was the enemy soldier who had shot the lieutenant at point blank range. His weapon was now aimed directly at Carina. She didn’t stand a chance. The soldier grinned.
Then the Cast began to work.
As always, the effect wasn’t immediate. If the soldier had ignored it and fired, Carina would have been dead, but he was distracted by its sensation. The man hesitated, his weapon still pointing at her, and looked down at his arms in disbelief as they began to disappear.
He lifted his head to meet Carina’s gaze, his grin quickly giving way to a look of panic. The next moment, he was gone.
And so were most of the rest of the enemy in the embassy, Carina hoped. She estimated the Cast’s radius to be around forty meters, which had to encompass most of the enemy within the building.
She dropped to her knees at Torres’ side. The woman was no longer moving, and Carina’s stomach turned at the sight of gray matter oozing from the split in her helmet. Gently, she turned the lieutenant over. Her eyes were fixed and still.
Mourning the lieutenant, the new recruit, and whoever else had died on the hopeless assignment would have to wait until later. It was time for the Black Dogs to retreat before enemy reinforcements arrived.
Carina listened hard for sounds of fighting, but the embassy was quiet. Her Cast had given the mercs a little breathing space. She went to find the rest of her platoon. Speeding downstairs, she jumped over the corpse of a fallen attacker and empty steps before running into the embassy lobby. She skidded to a halt as three Jensens were raised at her.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Lin?” barked Captain Speidel, lowering his rifle, “I nearly shot you.”
His rebuke stung, though Carina knew in his eyes she deserved it. She had a lot of respect for the captain and hated being the object of his disapproval.
“Are we under attack, sir?” asked Staff Sergeant Brown. “Did you see what happened to the enemy? The ones who had me and Halliday pinned down vanished. And I don’t hear any fighting.”
“I’m not sure what I saw,” Speidel replied.
“Sir, Lieutenant Torres bought it,” Carina said. “And the new guy too.”
“Shit.” Speidel turned away to speak into his helmet mic. As she listened in to his conversation with the mercs on the upper stories, Carina heard their confusion about the sudden disappearance of the attackers. The mercs on the roof reported more enemy forces approaching from every side.
It didn’t need to be said. If they didn’t get out of there soon, they were screwed.
2
The soldiers crammed into the shuttle that would take them back to their starship, Duchess. They laid the bodies of the fallen in sections under the floor. Sleeping in the locker, it was called.
No one said a thing while the shuttle lifted into the air and away from the embassy, which was now ripe for the taking. The atmosphere was tense as the mercs waited for ground-to-air fire while they made their escape, but nothing came. The enemy seemed to have lost interest now that they’d retreated. Carina guessed it would be some time before the reinforcements realized that their associates had disappeared. It would be still longer until the soldiers she’d transported returned from the spot where she’d sent them.
She was mind-weary after such a large Cast. She was also worried about the questions that would inevitably be asked about the unusual events of the firefight. In the two years since she’d joined the Black Dogs, she’d kept her Casts small, personal, and easily concealed. It had been the first time she’d risked doing something so noticeable.
After the shuttle left the danger zone, there was none of the banter and jibes that usually went on among the mercs at the end of an assignment; none of the black humor they employed to deal with the loss of friends and even enemies within their band. They’d failed. They’d retreated, and ingrained into the men and women, who were mostly ex-military, was the shame that came along with that.
The mysterious disappearance of their attackers hadn’t yet been mentioned, as if no one wanted to risk being thought mad or stupid. Carina was certainly not going to be first to bring it up.
The merc sitting next to her, Smitz, reached into a pocket and pulled out a wad of the foul herb he was addicted to. He bit off a few centimeters of the brown substance and pushed it into his cheek with his tongue before beginning to chew. Carina immediately regretted her choice of seat. She shifted her boots sideways in case he targeted his spit near her feet.
“Bastard lied to us,” Smitz finally said, breaking the silence.
The Black Dogs’ assignment had been to act as back up for the government force that was supposed to be defending the embassy, only the government troops hadn’t shown.
His comment was met with mutterings and grumbles. Captain Speidel, who was sitting next to the exit and gazing out of a small porthole, didn’t seem to have heard Smitz’s words.
“Can’t fight a company with a platoon,” the merc continued, drawing further murmured agreement.
“Quiet down, soldier,” Speidel said, finally noticing the man’s complaints. The murmurs ceased, and the captain returned to his morose contemplation of the view.
Carina felt for Speidel. He would be the one to take the blame if the top brass decided after debriefing that he’d made the wrong call, despite the hopeless situation the mercs had found themselves in.
He was a good man who didn’t deserve the shit thrown at him as the meat in the sandwich between Tarsalan, the company’s owner, and commanding officer Cadwallader and grunts like Smitz. Carina would be eternally grateful to Speidel for saving her from persecution and squalor in the slums of a nowhere planet. Though she rarely liked to admit it, the older man was the closest thing to a father she had. She hoped he wouldn’t suffer Tarsalan’s ire, though that was unlikely. The woman was notorious for her fixation on profits and disregard for the lives that were lost to achieve them.
Still, no one was mentioning what was on everyone’s mind—that all the attackers within the embassy building and compound had suddenly, inexplicably, vanished.
In the end, it was Halliday who spoke. “Hey, did...er...did anyone see anything weird happen down there?”
The uneasy shifting
of bodies was the soldiers’ only reply. Even Smitz, who was never slow to tell everyone and anyone exactly what he thought, was silent on the issue. From the corner of her eye, Carina could see Speidel shaking his head, no doubt wondering how he was going to explain to his superiors that the only reason most of them had gotten out alive was due to an impossible event.
The micro-gravity of low orbit was taking hold, and Carina lifted from her seat and bobbed against the straps of her harness. They were nearly back at Duchess. Soon she would be able to return to her cabin and safely stash her canister of elixir away from prying eyes.
“Hey, Lin,” said Smitz. “You got any water? I’m all out.”
Thinking that if he didn’t chew his disgusting herb he wouldn’t be so thirsty, Carina shook her head.
“Come on, Lin. Don’t hold out on me. We’re nearly back at the ship.”
“Then you can wait,” Carina replied.
“Come on, give me some. I know you always bring extra. I can see it sticking out like a third tit.” Smitz made a grab for the pouch that held the elixir canister. Carina deflected his arm with her elbow, following through and driving it into his gut. The blow had no effect other than pushing him away a little, due to the man’s armor. Smitz reached out with his other hand and Carina knocked that away too. She pushed him into the bulkhead for good measure.
“Smitz. Lin,” barked Brown. “Cut it out or you’re both on report.”
Smitz relented. Carina’s racing heart slowed, and she was glad that her face was hidden behind her tinted visor. Her skin was hot and moist with sweat.
It was with relief that she felt the shudder that rippled through the shuttle as it engaged with Duchess’ access hatch. In another few moments she was pulling herself through the short tunnel that led to the ship. As she went along, Duchess’ AG field took hold and Carina’s feet drifted to the floor. She let go of the bars she’d been using to pull herself along and walked.
Duchess didn’t live up to her name in terms of classy looks, being rather dumpy and squat, but she more than made up for the deficit with armaments. State-of-the-art pulse cannons fore and aft and fusion-rocket long-range missiles were supplemented by turret-mounted rail guns. As well as deterring space pirates with cocky ideas, Duchess’ artillery meant that reprisals after an assignment were rare. Tarsalan didn’t skimp when it came to her own safety.
The same could not be said for the mercs. Carina and the others removed their armor and hung it up in the armory. The protection was flexible, light and tough, but it was showing signs of wear. At the embassy, their attacker’s weapons had been able to penetrate it at close range. One of the problems of working as a merc was that levels of technological progress varied widely between worlds. New weapons were constantly being developed, and you were never quite sure what you would be up against next.
Carina transferred her canister from its pouch into her shirt and went straight to the cabin she shared with three other mercs. It was empty. She slid the canister into the hole she’d dug in her mattress. Then, finally relaxing for the first time since she’d cast, she lay down on her bunk and put her hands behind her head. After around half an hour a comm woke her.
“Corporal Lin,” came the message. “Report for debriefing immediately.”
Her earlier tension returned. Why did they want to talk to her? Had someone seen what she’d done? Carina wondered how that might be possible, and her stomach dropped as she remembered that Lieutenant Torres had been wearing a body cam like they all did. What if it had recorded her casting?
She swung down from her bunk, wracking her brain for an explanation as to why she would have taken a drink and then stood still with her eyes closed in great concentration, just before a horde of enemy soldiers disappeared.
By the time she reached the debriefing room, she hadn’t thought of a logical explanation for her behavior.
3
“We don’t need to know everything,” said Lieutenant Colonel Cadwallader. “Only describe exactly what you saw toward the end of the engagement, Corporal. Don’t leave anything out.”
Standing to attention in the mission room, Carina’s gaze flicked to Captain Speidel, who sat on one side of the room, stroking his stubble and watching. Cadwallader and Tarsalan sat behind a desk.
Cadwallader’s pale blue eyes seemed intent on piercing right through her, and Tarsalan’s full lips, coated in a purple sheen, were set in a line. Neither gave a hint of what they were expecting her to say. Carina didn’t know if she had to explain herself regarding Torres’ body cam footage or only report on the disappearance of the enemy.
She hesitated.
“We don’t have all day, Lin,” Tarsalan said, her heavy-lidded eyes drooping lower. The woman drummed fingers bearing thick, bejeweled rings on the desktop.
“Around ten minutes before Captain Speidel gave the order to withdraw,” said Carina, “I was alone in a room. I think it might have been the ambassador’s office.”
“What were you doing there?” Cadwallader asked.
“Checking for insurgents, sir.”
“Go on,” said Cadwallader.
Carina explained how Lieutenant Torres died. “After the lieutenant fell, the enemy turned his weapon on me,” she went on. “He would have shot me too, except...”
Her mouth was suddenly very dry. She swallowed.
“Spit it out, Lin,” said Cadwallader, frowning.
“Whatever you saw, or thought you saw,” said Speidel, “all you have to do is tell the truth.”
Carina focused on the captain. “The soldier disappeared, sir. Right in front of me. One minute he was there and the next he was gone.”
Tarsalan gave a huff of bitter frustration. “Just like the others. This is ridiculous.”
“We have the body cam vids,” said Cadwallader. “They don’t lie.”
“It was an optical illusion,” said Tarsalan.
“All fourteen of them?” Cadwallader asked.
“It makes no sense otherwise,” Tarsalan countered. “If someone’s invented cloaking technology for individuals, why didn’t they use it when they attacked? Why use it in order to retreat, especially when by all accounts they had the upper hand?”
“I don’t think it was cloaking technology,” said Cadwallader. “I think it was something else.”
“Like what?”
The lieutenant colonel was about to reply but he noticed that Carina was there, still standing to attention.
“You’re dismissed, Corporal,” he said.
Carina saluted and left. She guessed her story backed up the testimony given at earlier debriefings. She hadn’t been singled out for scrutiny, but Cadwallader’s comment that the soldiers’ disappearance had been something else had her stomach in knots again.
The sound of fast-moving footsteps from behind made her stop and turn. It was Captain Speidel, striding quickly to catch up to her.
“We’re going in the same direction,” he said. “Let’s walk together.”
As a subordinate, Carina’s compliance was a given. The two continued on their way.
“How are things going for you?” Speidel asked.
“Pretty good, sir.”
“You can drop the sir for the moment, Carina.”
“Okay.” Speidel had talked with her in this friendly way fairly regularly since recruiting her to the merc company, and she enjoyed their amiable conversations.
“I wanted to give you a heads up,” Speidel went on. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Stop a moment.”
Carina turned to him.
The man’s expression was serious and pained. “You can’t tell anyone else what I’m about to say to you. I can trust you, right?”
She nodded.
“Why am I even asking?” Speidel smiled. “You’re tighter than a drum.” He checked up and down the empty corridor. “I wanted to let you know, things might be over soon for the Black Dogs. We might be disbanding. So if you come across an opportunity to do something else, you sho
uld probably take it.”
“Disbanding, s…?” She stopped herself just in time. “Why?”
“Tarsalan’s been complaining for some time that she’s pouring creds into the company and making no profit. This last job we just did might be the final straw. The client’s refusing to pay the balance of the fee because the embassy was taken.”
“But they lied,” Carina exclaimed. “We were on our own and totally outnumbered. We could never have defended the place. If we hadn’t withdrawn, we would have been slaughtered.”
“That’s not what they’re saying at their end. But it doesn’t matter what they say. If they won’t pay, they won’t pay.”
“Maybe Tarsalan should send us on a mission to persuade them,” Carina said bitterly. Working with the Black Dogs was her life. She didn’t know what else she could do. She was damned if she would join the military and get paid a pittance.
Speidel gave a wry smile. “That might be effective one time, but as soon as word got out we’d never work again. It isn’t like merc bands are difficult to hire these days.”
“So you’re saying I should sign up with another company?”
“I don’t know. Soldiering’s a tough life. Maybe you should try something different while you’re still young and it isn’t burned into your bones. The galaxy’s a big place. There has to be some way for a young woman to make a living that doesn’t put her life on the line. You aren’t dyed-in-the-wool military like most of the rest of us.”
Carina shook her head. “Fighting’s all I know.”
Speidel sighed and resumed walking. Carina went along with him.
“I sometimes wonder if I did the right thing,” Speidel said, “breaking up that fight you were in and signing you up as a merc. You might have ended up doing something less dangerous and more worthwhile.”
“No. I wasn’t gonna win that fight. I took two of them out, but I was five minutes from being beaten to a pulp. If you hadn’t stepped in...” Carina’s memory of the event was vivid. Though she’d learned her fighting skills the hard way over the previous six years since Nai Nai died, even she was no match for the five boys who had set upon her. Their motive was only to have some fun, it seemed, as she had nothing to give them. It was a heavily bruised, bleeding Carina that Captain Speidel had brought back to Duchess and patched up. “Well, I wouldn’t be here now, that’s for sure.”