'No,' he said as he sat back on his heels. 'Not my girl. But perhaps not Kylian's either.'
She ignored him.
'Don't move,' she said.
Temple turned. He stared down the sight, capturing her gaze through the crosshair. He wasn't smiling anymore, his dark face sombre, and something in his gaze.... The click sounded in her brain, deep and sharp. Her heart sped, her palms growing warm with the increased blood flow, the scent of dust and the musk of biogel rich in her nose, as that gaze reached through the pistol's sight to grab hold of the thing in her middle.
This wasn't right. The words rang in her head, a warning carried in the beat of her heart and the smooth, steady motion of her lungs.
Focus on the 'pard.
She firmed her stance. 'Don't move,' she said again.
'Maybe you're your mother's girl.' He shifted his weight, preparing to stand, and unease surged a second time, but it wasn't the movement, it was his words. He moved as if it hurt, one hand braced on the knee she hadn't dislocated.
'Maybe I'm just all me,' Subria said.
He laughed, and the unease thickened. 'No, Ms Venere, you have a little bit of something else in there. Trust me.'
'Trust the man raiding the genebanks?' Instructor Bayard's voice rang through the room. 'You're asking a bit much of my recruit.' A shadow moved between the databanks, and the instructor appeared out of the darkness.
'Are you sure she's just a recruit, Ursula?'
'What else would she be? A 'pard?'
'Perhaps. She has the pitiless stare down. Pointy teeth would complete the look.'
'You should have left well enough alone, Temple.'
He stood, groaning as he shifted his weight, not quite straightening all the way. 'I couldn't, you of all people know that.'
'I had hope.'
'You know how I feel about hope.'
'I do.'
There was a beat of silence, time for Subria to hear the blood rush in her ears, the pulse of electricity through the gene banks. Time to watch Temple grip his ring, to see light flash on the metal as he twisted it.
Pain erupted in her ears.
CHAPTER FIVE
Fire raged through the databanks. Ghostly, unreal. Hell-ish.
Subria ran, feeling its hot breath on her neck, the lick of it on her cheek and smelling the awful, acrid stench of burning hair. Oh, God. Not her hair, not her hair. Not. Her. Hair.
Focus on the 'pard. Her daddy's voice played in her ear, took the ragged gasp out of her breathing. Air still rasped and raged in her throat, drew the taste of blood to her tongue and made her lungs burn, but panic no longer choked her.
Running wouldn't get her out of this.
A door up ahead, the flames glinting on plasglas.
She darted right. Slammed her hand into the control pad. The door opened. She squeezed through, hitting the pad on the other side before it was fully open.
The door closed, but she was already ducking, squeezing into the darkest shadow she could find, breath still ragged, heart still thumping, the sense of unreality sticking to her skin.
The flame drew closer, the crackle and rush of it echoing through the walls, lighting up the shadows, heating the air and stealing the sweat from her brow. She could feel it through the steelcrete now, in the floor.
Her heart beat harder.
Her breath came shorter.
Panic bubbled up in her gut, reaching hot sticky tendrils for her reason.
Focus on the 'pard, little tiger. Her dad was in her ear. The floor was no longer steelcrete but the soft loam of an old park, abandoned in the dark reaches of Cumulus City, the knotted branches of ancient trees twisted overhead, naked of leaves, cracking and creaking in the icy breeze, while the musty scent of death filled her nose.
She held the air in her lungs. Let it out, recalled the weight of the rifle in her hands, the smooth cold barrel, the hard curve of the stock against her shoulder.
'Wait for him to come out of the shadows,' her dad whispered in her earpiece. 'Always make him come to you, never go after him.'
'I remember,' she'd whispered back, the words barely enough to ruffle the air, but enough for the comms in the biocomp around her throat to pick up.
'Good. Patience is the watchword and caution is your ally. You might think you have him cornered, but the 'pard is not stupid, not even clouded by his rage.'
'He's rabid, Daddy.'
'That does not make him any less cunning, little tiger; it only makes him thirst for your blood.'
A shadow moved within the darkness, a piece of the night as tall as a man and twice as wide detaching itself from the gloom. It moved slowly, paws bigger than her face, bigger than her whole chest, gliding through the leaf litter, and Subria swore she could feel every step through the soles of her boots. Could feel it vibrating through the soil, echoing with her heart.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Her breath shuddered.
'I see him, Daddy.'
'I know. Calm.' His breath travelled through the comms, in through the nose, out through the mouth.
Her lungs followed suit.
'Focus,' he said.
She focused, no longer feeling the rifle in her hands, the stock against her shoulder. Seeing only the shadow moving through the dead trees, the giant hulk emerging from the darkness, into her sight.
Focus.
Breathe.
A hum of power, and her HUD snapped into place, and now she could see more of the shadow, the dense black fur, matted and patchy around his chest. The dark river of old blood running down his shoulder from where the other Farm Control unit had shot him. Dried now, like the blood on his muzzle from when he'd torn out the Control officer's throat.
Her HUD scanned the beast as he lumbered out of his hidey-hole, matching ears and chest-size to the warrant sitting on her biocomp, the one that said this companion was hers to kill. The scanner went to work, looking for the tag in his neck. Her finger crept towards the trigger.
'Patience,' her dad said, as if he could see through the distance and the dark, or read her mind, to feel the fear and anticipation riding her nerves. 'You need to confirm the warrant before the kill.'
She didn't need confirmation; the blood and the bullet hole were enough to tell her that this was the one. The human-killer.
'Patience,' he said again.
Patience.
She took her finger off the trigger. Waited as her HUD continued to scan the 'pard. A second ticked by. Another. And another.
Patience.
The 'pard lifted his muzzle, light gleaming off the slick black of his nose. His nostrils expanded, drawing the scents of the park into his lungs, tasting them.
On her HUD, the scan continued, leaving the thick muscles of his neck, travelling down the long, lithe length of his torso, down his flanks to the point of his tail. Nothing. It started back the other way.
The 'pard paused, every muscle in his body freezing before he reared onto his hind legs and breathed again.
'Daddy.' It wasn't even a word, just a twitch of her vocal cords as new tension gripped her body.
'Hold, little tiger.'
Hold. Hold. Hold. The memory rang in her head, over and over as the fire raged on the other side of the plasglas wall. Heating the floor, the air, her lungs. The sound of it vibrating against her skin, the harsh red core turning the shadows into the pits of Hell and burning everything else.
Hold, little tiger.
'Hold,' she whispered. She counted her heart, the ragged thumps, the rush of blood in her ears. One. Two. Th-Three. Four.
Closed her eyes against the black and red of the Hell-scape around her. Concentrated.
One.
Two.
Three.
Tension left her shoulders, unwound from her back, just a little, just enough that her muscles were no longer trying to rip themselves apart.
Enough for her to seek the place inside herself, the oasis where nothing could touch her.
Four.
>
Five.
Her heart slowed, not all the way, not to where it should, but a measure of calm settled over her mind. Adrenalin still pumped through her veins, but it was no longer the fire of panic, no longer made her hands shake or her breath come in rasps. And now, as she opened her eyes and took in the Hell-scape, she could peel back the sticky sense of unreality and see.
Really see.
Subria crawled out of her shadow.
Flames still cast the lab in shades of red and black, still made the primitive space deep in her mind scream in terror, but it no longer controlled her.
She stood, just enough to peer over the workbench and through the clear plasglas walls.
Her eyes didn't want to focus, wanted to jump left and right and anywhere but the heart of the inferno waiting outside. She grabbed hold of that part of herself, gritted her teeth and forced herself to see.
To see the fire standing there. Staring back at her.
She found the pistol.
Stood.
Aimed.
Patience, her daddy whispered. Confirm the warrant.
Except there was no HUD this time, no biocomp wrapped around her throat. No warrant. Just Temple on the opposite side of the plasglas, the worm wriggling through his gaze, trying to find its way into her soul.
Her finger found the depression in the grip even as a prayer fell from her lips. She activated the weapon and the barrel assembled itself out of the blackness at the top.
Temple frowned. Cocked his head. His mouth moved, but she didn't hear the words, only felt the stickiness reaching for her.
He wasn't talking to her, and even if he was, the plasglas was too thick for her to hear.
Too thick for sound. Too thick for projectiles.
The panic at the back of her mind still gibbering, Subria moved until she could see the control panel.
Temple's lips didn't stop, and he never took his eyes off her, not even when he did something to the ring on his finger and a holoscreen bloomed above it.
The lab door opened a fraction. Flames leapt, licking at the gap, long orange-blue fingers wrapping around the frame, heat blasting her in the face. The primitive thing screamed, and her grip on it loosened, just for a second, long enough for her heart to leap and a cry to escape her lips.
Hold, little tiger.
Hold.
A breath, a ragged, desperate lunge for the last bit of her control.
She held onto her sanity with the shredded remnants of reason.
The door opened more, and the flames rushed in, pushing the plasglas aside, taking over her vision.
Someone was screaming, the sound loud and high. Piercing.
She stumbled back. One hasty, shaky step, and another. Hands spasming on the pistol as the little bit of sanity left tried to stay in control.
Heat blasted her, boiled the sweat from her skin, seared the hairs from her arms. Roasted her flesh.
A bench slammed into her back. She wanted to crawl over it, wanted to run, wanted to find the closest shadow and hide. Hide. Hide. Hide.
The flames spoke. Words that burned in her ears. Meanings that tried to make it to her brain but pinged off the adrenalin riding her blood.
Now!
The word blasted through her, a shockwave riding all the way down her shoulder, her arm. The pistol cracked.
The inferno paused. Wavered.
Silence. A heartbeat for the deep, ragged sound of her breathing echoing in her ears. The roar of the fire silent.
Her ears rang. And then...and then...
The fire groaned, a long deep sound of pain. It flickered. Fell to its knees.
Subria blinked. Blinked again.
There was something in the flames, a shape, dark and fuzzy at first. Human.
She blinked a third time.
The flames died.
Temple knelt on the cold steelcrete, his dark face ashen, his hand, the one with the ring, clamped to his shoulder. He looked at her, but his gaze was fuzzy, unfocused, as a river of red ran through his fingers.
Subria's knees wobbled. The shakes traveling up her legs, turning her thighs to jelly, making her stomach jump, skittering down her arms. The pistol wobbled, dipped, the weight of it dragging her down. Not just her arms but every muscle drooping as endorphins replaced adrenalin, relief replaced panic.
It was over.
She hit the floor, not feeling the jolt or the cool surface through her pants.
Over.
Except it wasn't.
A rush of air, the sour smell of old meat and rage, the hot musk of fur.
A scream. Blood gushing across her face.
Her dad. Dying.
There was fog in her brain and she was losing it, the now, the here, losing it to old nightmares. But she was able to lift the pistol, to fire, before she went under.
She was back in the park, the lab a half-forgotten dream buried under the weight of memory, of the night a ruc-pard tore her dad apart.
The 'pard scenting the air, his black pitiless gaze turning towards the bench she knelt behind. The heavy thud, unheard and unfelt but in her imagination as loud as a shuttle landing on her head. The way the 'pard appeared to see through the holo-cloak, to see her kneeling in the old loam, still waiting for her HUD to confirm the warrant. Still waiting for her rifle to unlock.
The roar that rattled her bones. The charge.
All of that great, lumbering darkness rushing towards her, a cargo train pushing the scent of old blood and rotting meat ahead of it. Pushing terror.
'The warrant's not confirming, Daddy.' There was a waver in her voice, one that matched the shakes in her legs. 'Daddy!'
'Hold, little tiger.' There was something in her dad's voice, a thread of steel under the usual practiced calm. 'I have you.'
She clutched her rifle, hands sweating. Heart beating hard. Eyes half-focussed on the scan still running over the 'pard, the rest of her... the rest of her fighting not to get up from her crouch and run. Run. Run. Except there was nowhere to run, nowhere close enough, safe enough. No way to outrun the fury and bloodlust getting bigger and bigger in her scope.
Daddy had her.
Daddy had her.
Daddy had her.
A slice of the night screamed out of the trees, diving for the 'pard with talons and teeth. Erebos.
The 'pard swiped at the flyer, sending him barrelling into a tree.
Another slice of darkness, landing with a light thud and crouching atop the bench. Uniform sucking in the light, the glow of his HUD highlighting sharp cheekbones, gleaming off midnight hair. A pistol in his hand.
Daddy.
'Run,' he said.
What? The word wanted to explode out of her chest, but shock held it still.
'Run!' He yelled it this time, anger in his words, in his eyes, in the lines of his face.
She stumbled upright, took two shaky steps backward as her daddy turned to the 'pard. Started firing.
The 'pard kept coming, the shots from her dad's pistol sinking into the dark fur of its chest, but not slowing it. It was only metres from them now, a few bounds.
Daddy was rising, jumping off the bench, moving backwards, never taking his eyes off the killing machine hurtling towards them.
But he took a moment to glance at her. 'Subria!'
She ran.
The boundary of the park was ahead, a high wall separating dead grass from the landing pad and their shuttle.
If she could get there, she could get the other weapons, the ones that weren't—
A roar. A scream.
Subria spun back around.
The 'pard threw her dad in the air.
He tumbled, arms and legs spinning. Slammed into the ground.
Didn't move.
No. Please God, no.
'Dad!'
The 'pard roared again. Pounced.
Her HUD picked out the white flash of its claws, the spray of blood. Found the chip in the beast's ruined shoulder.
Another scream
. Her dad flipped on his belly. Crawling.
The rifle was still in her hands.
The warrant blinked blue. Kill warrant approved, it said.
She was on one knee, the other steadying the rifle as she raised and sighted down the barrel.
The 'pard looked up. Saw her. Roared.
Her HUD screamed warnings in her ears, flashed them across the visor, bright glaring red as the animal charged.
She squeezed the trigger.
She didn't remember the 'pard falling mid-leap, its momentum carrying it through the dirt to rest half a metre from her knees. She didn't remember it twitching, or the burning hole between its eyes. She only remembered stumbling through the dark, lifting her dad into her arms, praying for him to live as the blood ran over his chest.
'I got you, Daddy.'
He smiled.
CHAPTER SIX
There was something in her face, the heavy scent of fish crawling up her nose and down her throat. She turned away, but the smell followed her, tickled her cheeks, and—
The long line of warmth, rough enough to remove skin, jerked her awake.
She was scuttling backwards before her eyes were open, her back smacking up against something hard, head following.
Stars burst in her eyes, made it difficult to focus on the shadow looming over her, but she was already darting sideways, scrambling for her pistol—
'Easy, recruit.' Instructor Bayard's voice rang from somewhere in the mess of lights and shadows fogging her vision. 'It's done.'
Subria blinked, squinted against the lights silhouetting the... Not Bayard, unless the instructor had grown a snout and another four legs since she'd last seen her.
The blue-grey 'pard licked her cheek again.
Subria shoved the animal's snout away, or tried to. Instead she was caught in the 'pard's black gaze, falling, falling, falling all the way to that quiet place. Peace soaked through her pores and into her marrow, while that space behind her heart opened, filling with the scent of rain, the brush of fur and a sense of belonging. Of completeness.
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