The Gate

by Finn Gray

  “I feel safer already,” Gwen said.

  Five minutes later they arrived at another door. It was heavy-duty, designed to withstand a heavy blast. Fortunately for them, it stood ajar. Smoke stepped through and froze.

  “What is it?” Teddy asked.

  “I don’t know,” Smoke said. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Chapter 21

  Soria, Hyperion

  “The facility is just up ahead.” Oates pointed in the direction of a tall, narrow spire, cloaked in jungle growth. Another remnant of the civilization that had once thrived here on Soria so long ago. “It’s just beyond the ruins of that city.”

  “We’re not going to run into any more deformed sex freaks, are we?” Cassidy asked.

  “I’ve never encountered anyone here,” Oates said. It’s always been a dead zone.”

  They crested a rise and found themselves standing before a deep cleft in the earth. Rory looked down. It was a dizzying drop.

  “Where’s the city?” Cassidy asked.

  “It was right here,” Oates said. “At least, it was the last time I passed this way.”

  “This gorge, it looks fresh,” Trent said. “Seismic activity connected to the explosion at Stone Mountain?”

  “Or maybe deep fault lines disrupted by the nukes,” Cassidy offered.

  They contemplated the obstacle in silence for a full minute. The sun was growing hotter by the moment. Their insect repellent struggled to keep Soria’s biting and stinging bugs at bay, and the anti-radiation meds left them feeling queasy.

  “I’d say we should go back, but what is there to go back to?” Rory said impatiently. “The hells with it. Let’s try to get across. We already know what’s on this side of the divide. Over there, at least there’s a chance the facility is still functioning.”

  “Which means lots of targets if it’s a Memnon base,” Cassidy added. “But how do we get there?”

  They agreed that climbing down and back up again was an impossibility. They lacked proper climbing gear, and the walls of the gorge were too steep and sheer to attempt without it. What was more, the chasm was far too wide to jump across. Then Rory had an idea.

  “Give me the longest rope we’ve got.”

  Trent handed him a length of sturdy cord and he fashioned a loop at one end.

  “You are not about to try what I think you’re about to try,” Cassidy said.

  “I’m not just a farmer. I’ve done some ranching, too.” He gave her a wink. “Yippee ki yay!”

  She winced, but laughed. “Is this the right kind of rope for that?" She eyed the line doubtfully.

  “Not even close, but I’m going to give it a try anyway.”

  Rory moved to the edge of the cliff and slowly began to swing his makeshift lasso. Ideally a lariat rope was heavy and slightly less flexible than its everyday counterpart. You did not throw a rope the way you would a mayall ball, but instead you released it, allowing its weight to do the work. That was going to be a challenge with this thin cord. It was a long, slow, embarrassing process, chock full of failure. Rory tried again and again to lasso a prominent stone outcropping on the other side of the gorge. Each time, he failed.

  “Are you sure you’ve done this before?” Oates asked after the sixth failed attempt.

  “Yes,” Rory huffed, exasperated. “It’s just too… flaccid.” He gave the cord a shake.

  “That’s what his girlfriend said,” Trent deadpanned. She and Oates laughed, and Rory forced a pained smile. He knew it was only banter, but losing Jemma was still fresh in his mind. He noticed Cassidy was not laughing. Her face was beet red and she wouldn’t meet Rory’s eye. Guilt, most likely. Rory knew that Cass carried suspicions about Jemma due to her family’s Memnon roots. A dozen fragmented memories of Jemma flashed through his mind, each more painful than the one before.

  “Did you fall asleep?” Oates said.

  The question jolted Rory out of his somber moment.

  “Let me try it one more time.”

  “You’ll try more times than that unless we come up with a better idea.” Trent said.

  “Why can’t we go around?” Cassidy asked.

  “Acid swamp that way,” Oates pointed to his left. “And over there is a virtually impassable patch of jungle which just happens to house several species of venomous snake.”

  Trent sucked in her breath through gritted teeth. “It’s all right with me if we avoid the snakes.”

  Oates quirked an eyebrow in surprise. “You afraid of snakes?”

  “They don’t frighten me. It’s more a matter of extreme revulsion. It’s the way they move.” She made a slithering motion with the blade of her hand. She saw Rory looking at her. “Are you going to throw that rope or not?”

  Rory turned away, gritted his teeth, and concentrated on the target. He swung the loop once, twice, three times, and threw. The lasso floated through the air. He missed worse than he had any of the previous times. The noose struck a good three meters to the right of its target, and instead settled around the stump of a broken tree.

  “You got something,” Cassidy said. “But will it support our weight?”

  The tree was young, its trunk no thicker than Rory’s arm. But when he tugged on the rope, it held.

  “It seems to be anchored firmly in the ground,” he said. “Must have a solid root system.” He gave another pull. It did not budge. “Definitely seems solid to me. I think we can climb across.”

  “You go first,” Cassidy said.

  His stomach fluttered at the thought of crossing this chasm with only the small tree to hold him. What if his assessment was wrong? Maybe the earthquake, or whatever it had been, had loosened the soil. He might make it halfway across and then… But this had been his idea, and him the one who had thrown the rope, so it was only fair that he be the one to risk it.

  “I’ll do it,” Rory said.

  “No, it ought to be Vaz.” Trent turned to Cassidy. “You’re the lightest by far.”

  Cassidy blanched. “Ordinarily I’d take that as a compliment. Right now, I’d rather be a fatass like Plowboy.”

  “We’ll secure a line around your waist," Oates said. “If you fall, you won’t fall far.”

  “That’s comforting,” Cassidy said dryly.

  Rory understood her concern. If she were to make it almost all the way across and the line gave way, the second rope would prevent her from plummeting straight to the bottom of the gorge, but she would still be in for a painful, even perilous fall.

  They took time to secure the rope Rory had set. Next, they affixed a safety line to Cassidy, tying it with a bowline so it wouldn’t act as a noose should she fall. The very idea made Rory sick to his stomach. This was his idea and he felt it would be his fault if something happened to her.

  “This is on you if I fall,” Cassidy said, echoing his own thoughts. She winked, then turned and mounted the rope.

  The rope sagged beneath her weight as she hooked her ankles over it and, hand over hand, began to work her way across. The others gradually played out the safety rope, ready to pull her back if necessary.

  Sweat poured down Rory’s face. He held his breath as he watched Cassidy work her way across. She was halfway now, the cord sagging badly beneath her weight. He told himself she would be okay. They had done similar traverses several times during basic training, but always over a pool or mud pit, not a yawning chasm. In those cases, death had never been a realistic possibility.

  Cassidy was beyond the halfway point now. This was the most strenuous part of the climb since she had to work her way up at an angle.

  The seconds seemed to stretch into minutes as she inched forward. Finally, she reached the other side. Rory let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as she clambered up over the ledge on the other side, turned, and gave them all the finger.

  “Let’s see you bitches do it,” she called, visibly buoyed by her success.

  She unhooked Rory’s rope from the stump and hooked it onto th
e stone formation that had been his initial target. She also tied her own rope alongside it for added security and support.

  Rory went next. With two lines to support him, plus a safety rope, his was an easier traverse than Cassidy’s. Even better, it was his own ass on the line, and he always preferred it that way.

  “Gods, Plowboy,” Cassidy called when he reached the midway point. “You’ve got two ropes to hold you up and your fat ass is nearly touching the ground. I think you could just let go”

  “It’s that Camp Maddux food,” he grunted. “I could never get enough.” If he had ever told a greater lie in his life, he could not remember it.

  “That was a full minute slower than me,” Cassidy said when he finally reached the other side.

  “Not a chance. I was way faster than you.”

  Cassidy laughed and gave him a quick squeeze. “That was scary,” she whispered.

  “You did great.”

  “I know I did. I meant it was scary watching you flounder and flail.” She shoved him away roughly, turned and signaled for the others to cross.

  Trent came next, crossing the rope with surprising dexterity for someone of her size. Oates proved to be equally skilled, and Rory found himself relaxing. The old man was halfway across when things went sideways.

  Chapter 22

  Battlecruiser Dragonfly

  “None of this makes any sense.” The imperial princess laid her tablet on the table and buried her face in her hands. She let out a low groan. “No sense at all.”

  “No matter how many times you say that, it won’t make it any less true.” Sabre lay stretched out on Lina’s rack, tossing a mayall ball into the air and catching it. She did not know how many times she had done it. She’d lost count after a hundred. That had been a long time ago.

  “It’s frustrating. For the first time in my life I have access to the oldest documents we have, and all those maddening gaps remain.”

  “Your Imperial High Horse didn’t have archive access in the palace?” Sabre asked.

  “If you think your little comments bother me, you’re sadly mistaken. If you know anything about my sister you know I’m well accustomed to dealing with juvenile behavior.”

  Sabre sat bold upright.

  “Screw you, Your Majesty, and I mean that with all due respect.”

  Lina’s eyes flared. And then they both laughed.

  “You realize it’s not you,” Sabre said. “You’re not bad for one of your kind.”

  Lina quirked an eyebrow. “That’s good to know.”

  “I need to do something. I want to punch the Memnons right in the tackle.” She clenched her fist and conjured the mental image of a half-human, half-machine with a gleaming eye.

  “Then you’re in the right place. Guarding me might give you your best chance to… do that to a Memnon.”

  Sabre tried to smile, but fell far short.

  “I’m sure Kestrel will be back soon,” Lina said.

  Sabre nodded, blinked back tears. Gods, if only the Memnons would take a shot at the empress. Somebody please give me a reason.

  “I just want to do something to make a difference,” Sabre said.

  “In that case, you can help me.”

  “What are you working on, anyway?”

  “Haven’t you been paying attention?” Lina held up a hand. “Don’t answer that.” She sat up straight and smoothed her jumpsuit. “Myths and legends aside, tell me what you know about the colonization of Aquaria.”

  Sabre frowned. Why would she ask about that?

  “The usual. The Aquarians came from another world. They initially settled the planet of Hyperion, beginning with Soria. They spread out from there until they covered all of Hyperion, and then they colonized Thetis. They gave us the stories of the gods.” She frowned, thinking. “And the old legends and fables, I guess. That’s about it.”

  “Exactly. Even in the archives there don’t seem to be any records from the original colonies.”

  “So?” Sabre could not see where Lina was going with this.

  “What did their ships look like?”

  “The old pioneer ships,” Sabre said automatically.

  “Do you actually know that or is that what you believe?”

  Sabre considered this. Come to think of it, she had never seen any actual vids or even still images of actual colonial ships. Creative types had put their own spins on the story through books and vids, but their artistic concepts were all fairly consistent with pre-Memnon War tech.

  “I guess not. You mean there are no classified files on the colonization?”

  Lina shook her head. “None that I’ve found.”

  Sabre leaned back and rested against the wall. She turned the mayall ball over in her hands, feeling its pitted surface.

  “If the colonists had the technology to travel the stars, surely they had the ability to preserve information. Vids, pics, documents.”

  “Exactly! And that’s not the only thing that doesn’t make sense. Why did they only colonize Soria? Why not all around the globe at once? And why did they wait so long before they colonized Thetis? Wouldn’t they want to seed two worlds at once?”

  An alarming thought occurred to Sabre.

  “Are you trying to say that we did not come from the stars? That we evolved on Hyperion? It’s all mythology?” She wasn’t a big fan of history or religion, but she suddenly felt untethered from reality.

  “No, there’s no evidence of that. We are the only hominids on the planet and everything I’ve looked at so far indicates there’s never been a primitive version of our species living on either Hyperion or Thetis.”

  “That’s good to know.” Sabre wasn’t sure she meant it. This discussion had her feeling off balance.

  “I scanned the catalogs of some of the world’s greatest collections. Do you know what the oldest item I could find on display is?”

  “This conversation?”

  Lina ignored her. “A whirlybird.”

  “So? That’s some seriously primitive flying tech.”

  “Exactly. Flying tech! That must be the level of technology the early colonists were on.”

  Sabre closed her eyes, pressed her fingertips to her temples, and tried to rub away the beginnings of a headache.

  “I thought you were supposed to be finding us a new home planet.” As soon as the words had come out of her mouth, she understood. “You want to find the planet where the original colonizers came from.”

  “I thought there might be records of the path they’d taken to get here, or at least some information about our planet of origin.” She folded her arms and glared at a spot on the wall above Sabre’s head. “We had to have come from somewhere.”

  Chapter 23

  Soria, Hyperion

  “What in the hells is that?” Cassidy pointed at a dark shape in the distance. Rory turned to look. The shadowed outline of what appeared to be a large drone moved in their direction. As it drew closer, they realized it wasn’t a drone at all. It was a living thing.

  “Is it a bird?” Rory asked. If so, it was the largest he had ever seen. As he spoke, the thing flapped its wings. “That answers that.”

  “What are you three looking at?” Oates asked from his precarious spot halfway across the divide. “I’d appreciate it if you’d pay a little more attention to me.”

  “I think you need to get your narrow ass to this side and quick,” Trent said, her eyes locked on the approaching creature.

  Oates obviously trusted her instincts, because he immediately quickened his pace.

  Still too slow, Rory thought, glancing up at the flying creature. It zoomed in impossibly fast, and as it drew near, Rory realized it was much larger than he had previously estimated. And much more horrifying in appearance.

  “What in the gods names?” Trent said.

  The giant, winged creature had leathery grayish skin covered in a thin, ragged layer of yellow and red feathers. It had a long, straight beak, sharply pointed, a pouch at its throat, a
nd a high crest on its head. A fleshy membrane ran between its hind legs and another, stiff and upright, tipped its tail.

  “Its wingspan must be at least five meters,” Trent marveled.

  “I don’t know what you’re describing,” Oates said, “but I’d appreciate a less reverential tone just in case it’s carnivorous.”

  “Rifles!” Trent snapped, her tone suddenly sharp. “Oates won’t make it across before that thing reaches him,” she added quietly, so only Rory and Cassidy could hear. “I’ll see if I can discourage it.”

  She took aim and fired a single shot.

  Nothing.

  She fired again and the creature let out a high-pitched shriek. It did not, however, alter its course.

  “I think you pissed it off, Sergeant,” Cassidy said.

  “Shut up and help me kill that thing.”

  “What are you shooting at?” Oates shouted, alarmed.

  “We don’t know. Just hurry!” Rory yelled.

  The three Marines opened fire. Adrenaline coursed through Rory as the creature bore down on them. Gunfire boomed in his ears, underscored by Oates’ curses. The rifle kicked against his shoulder. Feathers and blood flew, the creature, shrieked again. It seemed to fill Rory’s vision, maybe the last thing he would ever see.

  And then it changed course, zipped down into the shelter of the gorge. Rory immediately moved to help Oates. In seconds, he was hauling the man up and over the ledge.

  “Get to cover before that thing comes back! Now!” he shouted. “Sorry, Sergeant,” he added. For a moment, he’d forgotten he was no longer squad leader.

  “I’m not going to get pissed off when you’re talking sense,” Trent said as t four of them made a dash for a nearby thicket.

  Rory felt as if he were running in soft sand on the beach. It was like a bad dream he could not wake up from. Any moment he expected to hear the strange creature’s cry, feel its talons rip into his flesh. Or did it hunt with its beak?