The Dogs of God

by Chris Kennedy

  The child didn’t say anything.

  Egger tapped her chest. “My name’s Elza. Elza Egger. Your name is?”

  Still the child refused to speak. Or couldn’t speak. Or maybe he just didn’t understand galactic common. Whatever the reason, she didn’t have time to figure it out. “Listen, you have to get down from here and get back to your family. All this—” Egger motioned behind her, “—this is dangerous. Not safe. For you.” She put a finger on the boy’s chest again. “Now, go.”

  He stepped away from her and receded into the tower’s shadows.

  “Brave kid,” Vance said. “But stupid.”

  “Can you blame him, though?” Egger said.

  Vane shook his head. “Not one damn bit.” He fired on another cluster of squibs. “Hey, Egger? What is that?”

  Egger followed his finger toward a series of seven half-spheres emerging from a side street. Maybe two meters in diameter, the objects looked like someone had cut a giant metal ball in half and then affixed tank treads to the bottom. Three recessed lights near the top blinked red as the spheres rumbled across the open ground.

  “I have no idea,” Egger replied and hailed Loo. “Sarge, we have something strange moving in from the southeast. I count seven domes on treads.”

  “Got ‘em,” Loo replied. “Stand by.”

  Egger hadn’t seen anything like this in the mission brief or in any of the research she’d done leading up to the deployment. Whatever these units were, they couldn’t be good, not with the way the Simikon seemed to be protecting them. Suddenly, the line spread out, and the domes moved to wrap around the southern side of the gatehouse.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Egger said to Loo.

  “I’m just waiting on word from higher up,” the sergeant replied.

  Something tapped Egger’s boot. She spun around. It was the kid. “Mystics! I thought I told you—”

  The child was pointing behind himself, toward the shadows of the gate house’s back wall.

  “Listen, kid. You gotta scram.”

  But he slashed at her hand with his knife and struck her gauntlet. The blow didn’t do any damage, but the sudden violence startled her.

  “Whoa,” Vance said, clearly noticing the hostile move. “You need some help there, Corporal?”

  Egger waved him off. “I got it.” But the kid was becoming more animated, pointing toward the shadows and fending off any physical touch Egger tried to give. To Vance, she said, “I think he’s trying to tell us something.”

  “Yeah, seems like it.”

  Egger got Loo back on comms. “Sarge, I have this kid here again.” The child was growing more frantic, waving his knife around and then pointing back. “I think he’s telling us to get out of the tower.”

  “Come again?” Loo replied.

  “Sir, I think he’s trying to warn us.”

  “Splickin’ son of a bitch.” Egger could practically hear her sergeant biting his lip. “If he has intel, I need it ASAP.”

  “I’ll try, Sarge. But he’s not talking.”

  “Well, make him. If he knows something we don’t, we need it. Marines’ lives are on the line.”

  “Copy that.” Egger reached for the child, but he batted her hand away and darted into the tower. “Hey! Get back here.” She chased him as he ran to a cutout in the stone. The child grabbed a wooden ladder on the inside of a vertical shaft and then started climbing down. “The hell?”

  “Hey, Egger?” Vance called. “You might want to get back out here.”

  “What is it?” Egger replied, watching the child descend.

  “It’s the domes. Their lights are getting stronger, and the Simikon are backing away from the wall.”

  “Dammit.”

  “Corporal Egger?” Loo asked. “I want that kid.”

  “Gimme a sec, Sarge.” Egger maglocked her blaster to her back and ducked through the cutout. She grabbed the ladder and started descending. But the kid was fast. Too fast. There was no way she was going to catch up at this rate, so she stepped off the rungs and placed her instep on the ladder’s sides. Then she moved her grip to the outside and started sliding.

  Egger looked between her legs as she dropped toward the kid. His head was coming up fast. But just as she neared the ground, the child leaped off the ladder and disappeared. She clamped her grip down and squeezed with her feet to slow her descent. Then, when Egger’s boots struck the ground, she found herself peering down a tunnel that disappeared under the palace grounds.

  “I’ve lost him, Sarge,” Egger said.

  “Then get your ass back here. We’ve got—”

  A blast from behind threw Egger to the ground. She landed on her chest, and her helmet hit hard against the stone. She fought to focus her vision, but she couldn’t make out anything around her. Just dim shapes and mottled light.

  Suddenly she was ten years old again, and the water was closing in around her. She should have listened to her brothers—should have stayed out of the cavern. But she wanted to prove that she was strong, that she was worthy. More than that, she wanted her father to smile at her the way he smiled at them. But there, trapped in the rising sea surge, she only saw one face—the one that looked back in the mirror. The one that conveyed deep disappointment. She pressed her face against the rough ceiling, gasping before the seawater filled her lungs.

  Egger tried calling out to Sergeant Loo, but she couldn’t hear her own voice. Just ringing—constant, incessant ringing that drowned out everything else. Debris pelted her back and legs, and she suddenly noticed something tugging on her hand. At first she thought it was a piece of stone, but the force was too intent.

  Out of the blurry lines came the shape of a small person pulling on her wrist.

  It was the kid again.

  “Come, come,” he said from under his helmet. “Come!”

  Egger shook her head to try and clear away the confusion. What had just happened? She pushed herself to her knees and tried to put a foot beneath her, but her balance was off. Still the child urged her to get up.

  “I need—” A wave of vertigo tossed her sideways. She fell against the tunnel’s sidewall. “I need to get back to my unit.”

  “No unit,” the kid said. “Come!”

  No unit? Egger willed herself to focus on the ground at her feet, then the walls, then the ceiling. It was dark, so she activated her helmet’s headlamp. A beam of light cut through the dust-filled corridor. The child looked away, and Egger turned around to find the ladder. But the ladder was gone, replaced with a solid mound of rubble. “What—what’s going on?” The shaft had caved in.

  No, Egger realized. The gatehouse. The whole tower—it came down.

  “Come,” the child said, pulling on her arm. “Must come.”

  “Sergeant Loo,” Egger said over the squad channel. “Do you copy?” When he didn’t reply, she bumped up to the platoon channel. “Lieutenant Norse? Do you read me?”

  Nothing. And their bio icons were blank, meaning that Egger had lost their signals.

  “Come, come!” The child was incessant. “Need come. Speed!”

  “Okay, okay.” Egger reached for her blaster and pulled it from her back. Thankfully, it appeared operational, and she still saw four mag icons in her HUD, which meant they were still on her back too. But she was out of VODs.

  The child led her down the tunnel another fourteen meters before it terminated in another small doorway. The kid stepped through, so Egger did the same. When she raised her head again, she found they were inside a large chamber. It was lined with a dozen columns that supported a six-meter-tall ceiling. But where she expected there to be an exit, there was another pile of rubble. Based on the kid standing in the middle of the room with his hands up, she guessed this wasn’t what he was expecting.

  “You okay?” Egger asked him as she stepped into the room.

  He turned. “No okay.” Then he pointed at the rubble. “No okay.”

  “I can see that.” She stretched her back
and looked around for any other exits. “Seems we’re trapped.”

  “Trap, yes. Trap.”

  “Trapped,” Egger said, instinctively correcting the kid, but then she thought better of it. “Never mind.” She tried her comms again, but they were down. Either her helmet was down, or…

  Egger swallowed and took a deep breath.

  Or your unit is gone.

  “You hear?” the child asked, pointing up.

  “Do I hear something?” Egger looked up and studied the ceiling. She amplified her helmet’s microphone. Sure enough, there was a faint scratching sound above them, like someone was trying to get through. Or something.

  “Bad hear,” the child said. “Bad. Must move.”

  “Move?” Egger chuckled. “To where?”

  The child pointed toward the tunnel.

  “You want to go back in there?”

  He nodded. “Move. Come.” Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her back toward the tunnel.

  “I think if we just try moving some of—”

  “Come, come. Speed.”

  The sound in the ceiling was closer. Egger pulled her hand from the kid and raised her blaster.

  “Speed!”

  “Get off me, kid,” Egger said, pushing him away.

  A loud crack issued above, and Egger saw a section of stones fall away. A shaft of sunlight pierced through the dust. For a split second, Egger anticipated Marines dropping down on ropes to rescue her and the child. Instead, the beady red eyes of a squib appeared.

  Egger stuffed the panic down inside her chest by firing a stream of blaster rounds at the menace. The thing screeched and fell into the chamber, but two more took its place. She downed those as well, only to see another three appear.

  “Come, speed,” said the child, pulling on her belt.

  More squibs crawled through the hole and tried to spread out along the ceiling, so Egger trained her aim on the opening in the hopes of keeping any more beasties from getting through. She had enough mags to keep them at bay for a while. But in the time it took to take out the three squibs closing on her position, six more dropped through the gap and landed on the floor. She fired on those, only to see another six climb across the ceiling.

  “Use now.”

  Egger looked down to see the kid pat her lower back. He was touching her extra magazines.

  “Yeah, no kidding,” she said, noting that she’d just drained her current mag. She reached back and pulled one off while simultaneously popping out her current mag. She was about to insert the ammo into her MC87 when the kid stopped her.

  “No! For it.” He used his other hand to point at the advancing squibs. The kid was telling her to sacrifice the mag as an explosive. A good idea, but her weapon was more effective with the mags in it.

  “Please!”

  Egger was reluctant to sacrifice the magazine. She had a feeling they’d need all the firepower they could get to hold these squibs off. But there was something about the kids’ confidence that made her at least consider his plea. Plus, he’d been right about escaping the tower, so maybe he was right about this too. Egger looked at the mag in her hand and then tossed it into the room’s center.

  “Run,” she said, pushing the kid into the tunnel. She reached for another mag but found none. Instead, when she looked back at the floor, she saw all her mags spread out. “What the hell?” The kid must’ve tossed the rest.

  “I run,” the kid exclaimed from the tunnel’s entrance.

  “Son of a bitch!” Egger spun on her heels and raced after the child. She ducked into the entrance and then barreled down the tunnel toward the rubble at the opposite end. They’d made it halfway when the mags went nova.

  The blast blew Egger into the kid, and the two flew down the rest of the hall. She pulled him into her chest just as they struck the ground. Then they rolled down the tunnel, eventually coming to a stop. More dust and debris sprinkled Egger’s armor as the sound of falling rock subsided.

  “You okay?” Egger asked, looking down at the child. Her helmet’s headlamp flickered, but it still had a little power left.

  “Okay,” he replied. “Person?”

  “Me?” Egger touched her head. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

  She released the boy and sat up. The good news was that his quick thinking had stemmed the Simikon’s subterranean invasion. The bad news was that they were trapped inside the tunnel, and the only weapon Egger had left was the combat knife that Longo had given her.

  “You Marine,” the boy said, taking a seat against the wall and removing his helmet. For the first time, Egger saw his dark complexion and arresting blue eyes.

  “I sure am, kid,” she replied, taking off her own helmet. She set it down on the ground so that her light indirectly illuminated the space.

  “Why fight you?”

  “You mean, why do I fight?”

  He nodded.

  What a curious question for a child to ask. “Well, I fight to keep people safe.”

  “Safe?”

  “Yeah. You know, to protect against the Simikon.”

  “You late.”

  She chuckled. “We’re late to the game, yes.”

  The kid was right. The Republic had waited several weeks before committing forces to Limbia Centrella—costly weeks for the Miblimbians. And while no one would ever admit it, Egger guessed the delay was due to the politics surrounding the system’s mineral rights.

  It was no secret that the Galactic Republic wanted access to Limbia’s vast natural resources. But the system’s founding charter with the Republic included exclusive terms about mining rights—conditions that the Repub didn’t mind giving up before they knew what the system contained. But once it was discovered that several planets were home to unimaginable lancite deposits—the primary catalyst in drive core composition—the senate put pressure on the system to rewrite its charter.

  While Egger couldn’t prove it—knowing the rumors were more akin to conspiracy theory than truth—she guessed the delayed response was another tactic the galactic Senate had used to undermine Limbia’s government. It was sick. But it was plausible. And that’s what scared her, because the government had done sick things before.

  “Yes. We are late,” Egger said. “And I’m sorry for how your people have suffered.”

  “Suffered, yes.” The boy’s face suddenly took on a look of sadness that only old men displayed. “Blight.”

  Egger had heard of the plague. As far as Repub scientists could determine, the disease was the result of Simikon excrement invading the continent’s water supply. Whatever people the Simikon couldn’t kill actively, the blight did passively, as there was no known cure to stem the infection or its spread.

  “We are here to stop the suffering. At least, I hope so.”

  “I too. But still late.”

  Egger nodded. Something told her this kid wasn’t going to let that fact go easily.

  Suddenly, more scratching came from the tunnel’s far end, toward the chamber room. “Dammit,” Egger said, pulling her helmet close.

  “No,” the boy said. Before she could react, the kid snatched the helmet from her and drove his knife into the rear power cell. The battery spat sparks as current shot up the blade. It was over in a matter of seconds. Then, with the dexterity of an adult three times his age, the child jammed his blade into the visor and carved out the visor. He offered the ravaged bucket back to Egger in the darkness. “Okay now.”

  It didn’t take an active imagination to guess what he’d done—removed all explosive potential from the Simikon. “Thanks, I think.”

  The grinding sounds were getting louder, and Egger guessed that the Simikon would be through in another few seconds. She didn’t give herself and the kid good odds for survival. What made matters more interesting, however, was with all the Marines and civilians on the surface, why were the squibs so intent on burrowing underground just to get at her and the boy?

  “Stab,” the child said. “Eye.”

  “Sounds
good.”

  “No mouth touch.”

  Egger nodded—not that the kid could see it—then put her disfigured helmet back on. “Copy that.”

  Suddenly, Egger heard the wall of rubble burst. She looked down the tunnel to see squibs crawl through a hole backlit by sunlight streaming down from the chamber’s ceiling. The Simikon hissed as they charged, heading straight at her. Egger pushed the child behind her legs and then thrust her knife at the first squib. She yelled as the blade sank into the soft flesh of the head, piercing several eyes. The squib didn’t relent right away, but continued driving into her, its mandibles snapping toward her torso.

  The boy reached around Egger’s hip and slashed at the squib’s belly. Gouts of fluid splattered on her leg, but the creature relented. The kid grabbed the ceramic cloth from her waistband and wiped her leg as she slashed at the next squib. Her blade cut across its head, and it veered sideways. As soon as it was on the ground, the kid landed on it and drove his blade into the top of its back. The strike gave out the sound of metal on metal, but the creature seemed immobilized.

  The next squib ran forward and then leapt into the air, legs pointed at Egger’s head. She ducked and ran her blade along the beast’s belly. The slit traced a line of fluid across her shoulder that started spitting and smoking against the armor.

  The child pounced on the wounded squib and finished it off, then he offered Egger the cloth. But there was no time. She turned to face the next squib—which turned out to be two squibs, one leaping high, the other charging at her knees. She raised a boot to kick the lower while she stabbed at the top one. But her knife missed the eyes and glanced off its flank. Similarly, her foot bashed against the legs but didn’t halt the enemy’s advance.

  The upper squib bit down on her shoulder plate. The sound of breaking armor was unique, as any Marine who’d seen combat knew all too well. It was accompanied by vivid smells and sights, ones that keep most warriors up at night, and Egger was no different. Even though this was only her third conflict, she’d already outlived her life expectancy in the 31st Marines, and the sound of her armor plating failing so close to her head made her adrenaline surge.