Earth Unrelenting (Forgotten Earth Book 2)

by M. R. Forbes

  “Nathan,” Hayden shouted, his voice barely reaching him as the crowd erupted again in anticipation of the coming action. “Nathan, you don’t have to do this.”

  “You should have given me the fucking ring back on the ship,” Nathan shouted back. “You shouldn’t have taken it in the first place. It’s your fault we’re both here right now. “

  “I’m trying to keep it safe, damn it. You’re going to put it right back in the Trust’s hands.”

  Nathan reached the third platform, and leaped across to the fourth, almost misjudging the space and falling back to the ground. He teetered for a moment before finding his footing.

  “I’m not,” he insisted. “The Liberators aren’t with the Trust. They hate the Trust as much as I do. Besides…” He jumped to the fifth platform, and then took a running leap. He flew four meters through the air, grabbing onto the bottom of the platform seven ladder, swinging out and back and then pulling himself up until he was standing in front of Hayden. “…I’m not trusting the Liberators either. I figured it out, Sheriff Duke. The lesson I should have learned before any of this happened.”

  “What’s that?” Hayden asked.

  Nathan noticed he had a different right arm. It looked more prominent and more powerful. He would have to be careful with it.

  “Don’t trust anybody.”

  He threw himself at Hayden, grabbing the knife Loki had given him from behind his back. It wouldn’t be a fair fight to go up against the Sheriff and his augmented hands undefended.

  Hayden’s eyes widened in surprise, and he turned to the side, avoiding the lunge. The move carried him too close to the edge of the platform though, and his foot slid off. He started falling, turning and catching himself on the edge with his right hand. Nathan spun around just as Hayden pulled himself back up, the power in the arm allowing him to swing over and kick out. He hit Nathan’s leg, pushing it out from under him and bringing him to a knee.

  “You can trust me,” Hayden said.

  “Bullshit,” Nathan replied.

  He threw himself at Hayden again, leading with the knife. Hayden blocked it with a metal hand, but it was a trick. Nathan rolled around the block, throwing an elbow back toward Hayden’s face. It hit him on the side of the head, forcing him to step back.

  Nathan didn’t hesitate, moving in, the knife zig-zagging back and forth, trying to find some flesh. It tore through the sleeve of the black t-shirt Hayden was wearing, but not through the bodysuit beneath. Fair enough.

  He reversed direction, letting Hayden block another strike and following up with a hard punch that caught him in the ribs. Hayden grunted, falling back a step. He faked toward Nathan, causing him to hesitate. Then the sheriff threw himself off the platform.

  He fell two meters to the next one, hitting it with a loud clang. He rolled to his feet, looking up at Nathan.

  “The Trust killed her for this, Stacker,” Hayden said, digging the ring out of his pocket. “Whatever is on it, do you really want the Liberators to know? Can you believe they won’t turn it over to the Trust once they get what they want? That they won’t turn you over to the Trust?”

  Nathan glared down at him. “They have their own agenda, Sheriff. One you might understand. They don’t give a shit about Proxima or the Trust. They’ve been using them like a tool.”

  “What are you standing there for?” Loki said, his voice reverberating across the arena.

  The crowd was starting to boo, getting bored with their inaction. Loki motioned to the winch operators, and the platform Nathan was standing on suddenly titled sharply. He stumbled and fell, sliding down the ramp and over the edge.

  He dropped toward the next platform, headed directly for a row of spikes. Somehow he managed to turn himself over and extend his hands, planting them between two of the metal points and keeping his body tight. His eye came down only a few centimeters from one of the metal spikes.

  The crowd cheered.

  Nathan pushed himself up, turning as Hayden leaped to the platform, landing behind him and trying to grab him from behind. He stepped back and then kicked out, his foot caught in Hayden’s metal hand.

  “What kind of agenda?” Hayden asked, pushing the foot aside and throwing a punch of his own while Nathan was off-balance. Nathan barely managed to duck under it, stepping in close and grappling with the sheriff.

  “A virus that kills trife,” Nathan said. “The end of the war on Earth.”

  “That’s not possible. The CSF has been working on it for years. It doesn't work.”

  “What the fuck do you know about it?” Nathan asked.

  “More than you think. Can’t you see how they're playing you, Stacker? First by the Trust, now by Tinker. Stop being stupid.”

  Nathan’s anger flared, and he roared as he shoved Hayden backward. They were both getting close to the edge of the platform.

  The crowd erupted again, cheering louder as they inched closer to the edge. The next platform down was covered in spikes, certain death for whoever landed on the bottom if they tumbled.

  “I’m not stupid!” Nathan shouted in Hayden’s face. “She left that for me. She knew they were going to kill her. She was counting on me!”

  “To get the data and act on it. That’s what I’m trying to do. What are the Liberators trying to do? If they want to save Earth, why did they take all of the women here?”

  Nathan shoved again. Hayden’s big arm was free. The sheriff could slam it into him and likely knock him from the platform. But he wasn’t. He was letting himself be pushed. He was giving ground. Why? To trick him again, like he had tricked him when he took the ring? To draw him in before delivering the killing blow?

  “The Liberators needed the Trust to develop the virus. But they’re done. They only have one more test. If it works, it’ll be over, Hayden. The war on Earth will be over. Don’t you want that?”

  “I do,” Hayden replied. “But at what cost? What kind of monsters do we become? What kind of monsters do we create? It can’t be that simple.”

  Nathan paused. He let Hayden go and jumped back, putting space between them. The crowd booed again, disappointed.

  “Why not?” he asked.

  “Because nothing is.”

  “Fine,” Loki said. “If you aren’t going to kill one another, maybe you need a little help. Mother!”

  Hayden and Nathan both turned back toward the dais. The action wasn’t there. It was at the entrance to the arena. A dozen men charged in, brandishing swords and hammers and bats.

  “I guess you should have killed me,” Hayden said. “I would have let you push me off.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I can’t do this on my own. I need a Centurion. A Spacer. If I can’t convince you that we’re better off working together, I’m as good as dead anyway.”

  Nathan glared at Hayden. What a line of shit. “So be it,” he said.

  Then he rushed Sheriff, slamming his shoulder into the man’s chest. Hayden didn’t try to stop him. He took the blow, stumbling back and over the edge.

  Chapter 49

  Hayden regretted his decision as his feet lost contact with the platform and he found himself flipping over in the air. Maybe he should have been a little less dramatic, but getting through to Stacker was like trying to herd trife. What else would it take to convince the Spacer they were on the same fucking side?

  That was all he had time for as he turned face-down, the weight of Gus’ arm dragging him over as he fell toward the platform of spikes. He put the hand out, reaching for the space between two of the sharp points.

  Pyro had said the replacement was stronger than the more modern Centurion version. He hoped she was right.

  He hit the platform, leading with his hand. He planted it on the metal, gripping it and trying to hold himself straight up, his head balance precariously over one of the spikes. His shoulder burned from the impact and sudden strain, and it bent slightly to absorb the blow. His face sank toward the spike, but he came to a stop, doing an imposs
ible single handstand over the bed of spears.

  The crowd loved it.

  He bent the arm slightly and pushed off, flipping himself up and over and landing with his feet between two spikes. He looked up at Nathan, who stood on the edge of the higher platform grinning with disbelief.

  He couldn’t quite believe it himself.

  “Sher— iff, Sher— iff, Sher— iff,” the crowd started to chant.

  He heard the platform near him shift on its chains, and he looked down. Three men were climbing toward him from there. Another three were coming from the other side. Six more were still on the ground, waiting to see what happened to the first group.

  He looked over to where Loki was standing. The man’s face was flat, all of the amused life draining from it as the crowd turned in Hayden’s favor.

  “Get him!” he shouted, glancing up at the team operating the winches.

  Hayden’s platform started to rise. He didn’t expect it would continue.

  He ran to the edge and jumped, leaping across open space. There was a rope dangling from the platform above him, and he grabbed it and swung, shifting his weight so he could turn. A second platform was there, below him, but the first group of prisoners had nearly reached it.

  It was his only option. He kicked his legs and let go.

  He fell through the air again, plummeting toward the platform. He put the big hand up, grabbing the edge and crashing down. He could feel the metal bending in his grip, and his body complained at the sudden loss of momentum. He groaned, pulling himself up and to his knees.

  Someone’s foot nearly kicked him in the face. He caught it in the big hand, throwing it violently aside and sending the prisoner tumbling from the platform. He stood up, turning to block a bat with his shoulder, the bodysuit reducing the force of the blow but not the pain. He grunted, throwing a hard punch with his Centurion hand that caught the attacker in the face, breaking his jaw and knocking him down.

  The third man had a machete, and he chopped it down at Hayden. Hayden turned the big arm over, letting the blade hit the plates on the outside of it and skip off. He shoved his forearm forward, cracking the metal into the man’s face and breaking his nose. He grabbed him with the other hand and threw him from the platform.

  The spectators loved it. The volume of their shouting increased, the chanting getting louder. He didn’t care. He turned around, looking for Stacker.

  The big Spacer landed on the platform beside him. Their eyes met.

  “Give me the ring,” Nathan said.

  “Nathan,” Hayden said, ready to argue again.

  “I’m convinced. You let me push you off. You couldn’t know you would be able to stop yourself. We’ll get out of here together. I promise. But give me the ring. Please.”

  Hayden nodded. He reached into his pocket.

  The entire building shook as something big and very explosive slammed into it.

  The platforms shifted from the force of the explosion, the chains rocking and throwing them both. The cheers turned into sudden shouts of fear, and Hayden saw a massive fireball to the south out of the corner of his eye, even as he desperately reached for the edge of the platform.

  Nathan tumbled over the edge, falling three meters and hitting the top of a platform. Two of the chains snapped from the impact and he rolled off, falling another three meters to the ground and landing on his stomach.

  He didn’t move right away.

  Hayden hung from the platform. He heard gunfire now, from the direction of the explosion. The crowd was dispersing, doing everything it could to get away from the area and away from the sudden violence.

  “Crosstons!” Loki shouted. “We’re under attack. Form up. Form up. Take your battle stations.” He glanced back at Nathan, and then at Hayden before vanishing from the dais.

  Who the hell was attacking? It had to be the Liberators. Nathan had probably told them to give him a certain amount of time to get the ring, and then they would attack.

  He looked down. It was a decent fall from his position. Could he make it without breaking anything? With the bodysuit, maybe?

  He had to take the chance. He let go of the platform, falling straight down. His legs hit the floor, a wave of pain shooting up from his ankles, through his groin, and into his spine. He fell forward, his knees suddenly throbbing.

  He looked up. The Crosston guards were firing down at someone from the walkway above, and someone was sending plasma bolts back up at them. He heard more screaming. Now that the fireball was subsiding he could see the entire side of the terminal was gone, torn away by the massive blast.

  He forced himself to his feet, turning back to Nathan. He started over to him, limping on his left leg, his right still needing time to recover. He fell at Stacker’s side. “Nathan. Stacker. Captain. Get up.”

  Nathan lifted his head slightly and groaned. “What the…”

  “Your friends are here.”

  “No. They don’t know I’m here. I came alone.” He got to his knees. “Fuck. It has to be the Trust.”

  “What do you mean? We killed Shia.”

  “No. Damn it. They sent more soldiers. A whole kill squad. They aren’t fucking around, Sheriff.”

  “How did they find us here?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe they followed me? Shit. Maybe they caught up to Billiard or one of the other nomads.”

  “Billiard?”

  “We can’t stay here, Sheriff.” Nathan shoved himself to his feet.

  “Pozz that,” Hayden replied.

  They turned back toward the entrance to the arena. Flashes of plasma bolts passed through the smoke and debris still obscuring the view across the terminal floor, trading fire with Crosstons positioned nearby. They couldn’t get out of the area without going south and cutting through the action.

  “Before I forget,” Hayden said, pulling the ring from his pocket. He flipped it to Nathan. “Here.”

  Nathan caught it, a smile spreading across his dirty face. “You’re a resilient son of a bitch, Sheriff. As relentless as I am.”

  “Then we’ll make a good team.”

  Nathan bent down, picking up one of the dropped metal bats. “I’m ready when you are.”

  They took two steps toward the totem poles. A figure in black military fatigues swung out from behind the one on the left, plasma rifle raised and pointed at them.

  “Well, shit,” the Space Force soldier said. “Stacker? Fucking General told me you were dead.”

  Hayden stared at the man. He was wearing a dark helmet, making his face impossible to see. He recognized the voice, but he couldn’t quite believe it.

  “Bennett?”

  Chapter 50

  “General,” Lieutenant Hong said, standing in the doorway to James’ office. He saluted sharply and then stood at attention.

  “Go ahead,” James said, looking over at him.

  “The Pulse is here, sir.”

  James looked over at the window. Of course, he had seen the Centurion starship arrive. It was impossible to miss from the location of his office, right beside the airfield. He wasn’t in a hurry to go out to it. Tinker’s plan had allowed him a few hours sleep, and a few hours of quiet time that he’d been enjoying. As soon as he went out to the ship, all that was over.

  But not for long. If the trial were a success, all of it would be over within a week or two. The war would be over. The trife would be dead. The Earth would be theirs.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” James said. “Dismissed.”

  Hong saluted again and left. James stood up, walking to the doorway. The phone rang behind him. He looked back, eyebrow raised. Had Tinker called to ensure the shipment arrived? He never had before.

  He retreated to the desk and picked up the receiver. “General Stacker.”

  “General,” Doc said. Her voice was tense. Nervous.

  “What is it, Major?” he replied, the sense of relaxation vanishing in an instant. He hadn’t made it out to the ship, and it was already over.

 
“The Trust, sir. They know the Spacer is in Crosston. They’re headed there right now.”

  James didn’t panic. He couldn’t make good decisions if he got anxious. “How do they know?”

  “They found one of the horse nomads who saw him go in there. They made him bring them to the nomad camp. They beat the shit out of him, sir. And then they beat the shit out of the nomad’s leader until he gave up the intel.”

  “Did they see Nathan?”

  “No, sir. They didn’t know I was with you, either.”

  “Good. You said they’re on their way to the Crosston terminal?”

  “Yes, sir. I trailed them when they left. They’re carrying some serious artillery, sir.”

  “Understood. Where are you now?”

  “About a kilometer north of the Crosston compound. I set up the portable as soon as I could get clear.”

  “Roger. Fall back to the nomad’s camp.”

  “Sir?” Doc was confused. James understood why. “You want me to fall back?”

  “Yes. Stay clear of the compound. Tinker delivered the latest package this morning with instructions to test it on the trife in the area.”

  Doc was silent for a few seconds. He wondered what she was thinking.

  “Sir,” she said softly. “Nathan is with the Crosstons.”

  “What?” James hissed. “What the fuck is he doing there?”

  “He snuck out while I was sleeping, sir. I didn’t expect him to leave.”

  “Forget it, Sarah. We’ll worry about that later. Fall back. I have to go. Our timetable just moved up by hours. Stacker out.”

  He slammed the receiver down before she could respond. No part of him believed Stacker got past her while she was sleeping. He should have known she would have a soft spot for the replica.

  After all, she had always had a soft spot for him.

  He stormed from the office, walking briskly to the stairs and down. He burst into COMCENT, drawing the attention of the soldiers there.

  “General on deck!” someone shouted, causing the activity in the room to stop as they all stood.