Finish What You Started

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Finish What You Started Page 8

by Michael Anderle


  Sounds good to me, Scott agreed.

  Gotta keep the cultural relations going, Darryl supplied.

  Cultural relations, my ass, Eric managed through his laughter. You just wanna play with a lightsaber. You do know they’re not actual Wookiees?

  Who doesn’t want to play with a lightsaber? John asked.

  Boys? Gabrielle interrupted. The comets?

  6

  Moen, Elset, Underground

  Bethany Anne raised her hand as they reached the indent, a switchback at the top of a twin staircase. That explains the break in the wall. The easy entry to the building is a plus.

  Michael didn’t relax his guard a millimeter. Wait while I make sure it is safe.

  Bethany Anne extended a hand toward the head of the stairwell. Be my guest. I quit bitching about safety checks right around the time you went backpacking in Colorado.

  I love the way you frame the ultimate sacrifice as a happy jaunt through nature, Michael retorted. He peered down the stairs cut into the outer wall leading to the lower terrace, then moved to the stairwell going down into the building.

  Bethany Anne continued to keep watch for threats. What are you looking for?

  Boobytraps, Michael answered, running a finger over the frame of the entrance. We are not invulnerable, however hard to hurt we are. The things that can hurt beings as enhanced as we are should not be taken lightly.

  Bethany Anne turned her hand over, setting her energy ball dancing. But we’re good now, right?

  Michael nodded and headed down the stairs. We are.

  Bethany Anne’s eyes darted over every surface as they descended into the cool, softly-lit interior. This place is so old. Look how the striations in the compressed sand get closer together the lower down we go. The Moen must have dug this out thousands of years ago.

  Michael ran his fingers over the pattern in the wall. I guess we have one answer before we begin. The Moen have always been here.

  Bethany Anne was hoping for a little bit more than a geology report on the place. I’ll add that to the knowledge that underground cities are a gigantic pain in the backside to navigate.

  Michael came to stand beside her. Can’t ADAM do something to map the way ahead?

  Bethany Anne narrowed her eyes at him. Short of me clicking like a fucking dolphin while we walk so he can learn to echolocate in the next minute? No. There isn’t anything down here for ADAM to connect to.

  Michael frowned. It would have been good to bring the children with us. Alexis has a second sense when it comes to direction.

  That’s beside the question. Bethany Anne paused to process her thought. My concern is that they aren’t ready emotionally. There’s a hell of a difference between training scenarios or a guard rotation at the Hexagon and bringing them along on a live mission.

  Michael sent a wave of comfort through their mental link. I think it is you who is not ready emotionally, my love. Consider it this way: since the dawn of time, parents have watched their children go off to fight in this war or that, powerless to protect them from the dangers of a warrior’s life.

  Bethany Anne shook her head. It’s not like I haven’t considered that. I haven’t forgotten the relief in my father’s eyes when I told him I wasn’t joining the military.

  Michael played devil’s advocate, as he often found himself doing on their children’s behalf. Our children also have the distinct advantage of us to guide and shape them until they are ready to spread their wings. He hadn’t thought himself to be any kind of libertarian, but the adage, “he came from a different time” truly applied to this situation. He had been blooded at the first sign of a hair on his chest, but it was another thing entirely for his son and daughter.

  Bethany Anne narrowed her eyes. I’d prefer less talk about spreading wings, but I see your point. She paused as they came out where the stairs let out into a low chamber carved out of the compacted sand.

  Bethany Anne caught a movement in the corner of her eye. Michael. Behind you.

  Michael spun at Bethany Anne's warning with his Jean Dukes raised and ready.

  He was confronted by an angry, weathered face the color of sunshine and the pointy end of a walking staff.

  “What are you doing?” the elderly male Moen hissed, waving his staff at Michael. “You can’t be in here!”

  Bethany Anne moved to stand between the Moen and Michael. “We can be wherever we want.” She deactivated her faceplate and flashed Baba Yaga’s red eyes at the Moen. “I want to speak to whoever is in charge here.”

  “Baba Yaga!” The Moen held up trembling hands, concern for his life deepening the creases in his face. “Nobody is permitted to disturb the Alders. I apologize, but I have to ask you to leave immediately. Please don’t kill me!”

  Bethany Anne flexed her control on the energy ball in her hand, allowing it to surge momentarily. “Do I sound like I’m asking for permission? I’m here with peaceful intentions, but I didn’t say anything about keeping my temper if I’m not met with cooperation.”

  “The easiest thing to do is exactly what Baba Yaga tells you,” Michael told the quivering Moen in a soft tone.

  Good cop? Really?

  It’s rare I get the chance, so why not?

  Bethany Anne snickered in Michael’s mind.

  The Moen was glad of a reason to look away from the face of the Witch. He dropped his eyes to the floor and shuffled back the way he came. “This way, Mistress.”

  Bethany Anne looked back at Michael, then released the energy ball she was holding into the air and led the way after the retreating Moen.

  He led them deeper into the dunes, muttering increasingly dire predictions of the consequences he faced for guiding them with every step. Twice, the Moen had to be persuaded to continue on through the labyrinth.

  Bethany Anne rolled her eyes mentally as they neared the Alders’ chambers and their guide was hit by a fresh wave of doubt.

  “I’ll lose my head for this, surely,” he grumbled, taking them into what looked to be an antechamber, filled with the scent of permanently damp sand.

  I’d settle for his tongue, Michael decided. Can’t he think his thoughts like the rest of us?

  Bethany Anne lifted a shoulder. He doesn’t know this won’t end in violence. Just tune him out.

  The Moen shuffled across the chamber, pausing by a stone door set into the wall between two columns. “I should go in first—”

  “Yeah, hell, no.” Bethany Anne pushed him aside, then threw open the door with much less care than she’d just shown their guide.

  The six Moen seated around the stone table inside the chamber erupted toward the exit at the other end of the chamber when the door slammed open and Baba Yaga stalked in.

  Bethany Anne redirected her energy ball, growing it as it shot across the chamber until the escape was blocked by a barrier of crackling Etheric energy. “Sit down. We have a few things to discuss.”

  The Moen hung back while Michael walked around Bethany Anne and pulled out the chair at the head of the table for her.

  Baba Yaga took her seat, and Michael moved to stand silently behind her. “Sit,” she repeated, waving a finger at the empty chairs. “I won’t ask a third time.”

  The Moen obeyed, returning to the table somewhat reluctantly.

  One of the females spoke up angrily. “Why are you here, Baba Yaga? We did not ask you to come.”

  Bethany Anne crossed her legs and steepled her fingers in her lap, scrutinizing the six as they shuffled nervously in their seats. “I’m done.” She paused to allow her words to sink in around the table. “I have other people in need of my time. You will not continue to sit on the fence. I want the truth. Why haven’t you taken the lifeline I’m offering?”

  The female spoke up again, her tone somewhat sulky to Bethany Anne’s ears. “We don’t have to answer that.”

  Bethany Anne frowned at the Alder’s attitude. “I don’t get you as a people. Why don’t you protect yourselves or fight for your freedom? You have the
means to resist.”

  The Moen stared at Bethany Anne, her eyes wise, tired, and full of lies. “Why fight what the universe has sent our way? It is not for us to reason why, just to weather the storm.”

  Bethany Anne raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve heard since I got out of politics.”

  The Moen looked away. “Who are you to judge us?”

  Bethany Anne growled through bared teeth, “You better hope to fuck I don’t decide to judge you, because I give no quarter to anyone in league with the fucking Kurtherians. Do you understand me? Or are you really nothing more than a bunch of fucking mercy-killings waiting to happen?”

  The Alders found their tongues at last. Their denial of the presence of Kurtherians was unanimous, their offense at the accusation strong enough to outweigh their fear of Baba Yaga for the moment.

  Keep them nervous, Michael requested. It’s making it easier to read their minds.

  You’re having trouble? Bethany Anne asked.

  Not trouble, Michael clarified. I’m getting a good read on them. I admit, maybe I should have complained less during the days when the only minds I had to read were human to some degree or another. These aliens we have met? Dipping into their minds is comparable to attending a buffet where every taste you are offered is an experience you have to come to terms with before you can process it.

  The Moen noticed nothing as Michael flicked through their memories.

  Bethany Anne snapped, making the Moen jump in their seats, “Enough! If you don’t stop answering my questions with more questions, my patience is going to run dry extremely quickly. That isn’t likely to end well for you.”

  The Alder lifted her chin and looked Bethany Anne in the eye. “Answer me this, Baba Yaga. Without all you have endured, would you be the same person?”

  Bethany Anne raised an eyebrow. “Essentially, yes.” She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward to fix the Alders with a hard look. “You are prevaricating. What aren’t you telling me?”

  The Alders’ eyes slid away.

  Bethany Anne beckoned Michael forward with a finger. Let’s see what scaring the crap out of them turns up. “Don’t say I didn’t try to play nice,” she told the Alders as Michael made his eyes glow. “This shouldn’t hurt…too much.”

  The Moen glanced nervously at Michael, then back at Bethany Anne.

  You have scared them plenty already. Michael paused with a hand on the back of Bethany Anne's chair while he probed the Moen for information. Oh, this is interesting. Ask them about the substance and see what that shakes loose.

  The Ooken substance? Bethany Anne was beginning to get an idea of the larger picture.

  Yes, Michael confirmed. It is the clearest image at the forefront of their minds, like someone told them not to think about an elephant.

  That is interesting. Keep digging. Bethany Anne tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair. “Tell me, what interests you about the nanocyte substance the Ooken use?” She noted the ripple of alarm that ran through the chamber.

  Still, the Alders said nothing.

  Bethany Anne lifted a foot and kicked the edge of the table, flashing her red eyes once again. The Alders jumped inside their skins at the resulting deep crack that echoed through the chamber.

  Bethany Anne winced internally at the break she’d made along the center of the fairly ancient-looking stone. Outwardly, she was cold and calm. The light behind her turned from pale blue to violet to red. “Start. Talking. Either you work with me to rid this planet of the Ooken, or I have no choice but to think you’re allied with the Seven.”

  The female who had spoken previously got to her feet, balancing with the walking staff all the Moen seemed to carry.

  Meon

  The male beside her made a half-attempt to grab her sleeve when Michael stepped forward. “Meon, no!”

  Meon shook him off with a look that suggested he might feel the hard side of her hand if he touched her again. “Leave us. I will take the consequences of speaking with Baba Yaga.”

  The other Alders capitulated gratefully, looking at Baba Yaga for permission.

  Bethany Anne dropped the barrier over the door, allowing the others to file nervously past her. “I will speak to you, Meon,” she corrected. “You have this opportunity and this one only to convince me that your people aren’t in bed with the Ooken.”

  Meon fixed Bethany Anne with a steely glare. “We are no allies of theirs, and neither are we yours. I remind you, we did not ask for your assistance.”

  Bethany Anne narrowed her eyes. “You are not in a position to remind me of anything. Most would be at least a little grateful for my intervention, but you have something to hide, don’t you?” She waved a hand at the bristling female. “Tell me what interest you have in the nanocyte substance the Ooken use. I won’t ask again, and I won’t lose any sleep over having your mind stripped. Your choice. ”

  Meon took her seat with an affected sigh. “I have nothing to say on that subject.”

  Michael placed a hand on Bethany Anne’s shoulder. I have something.

  Bethany Anne met Meon's gaze unblinkingly, tapping her fingers on the arm of her chair in the drawn-out silence. What is it?

  I get the impression she believes they are making a sacrifice, Michael told her.

  Bethany Anne frowned, the motion enough to cause the Moen to emit a hitched breath. What do you mean, a sacrifice? She put two and two together and came to the rock and the hard place the Moen were in. “So your people have some kind of genetic disease. Is it worth dying by the thousands to get your hands on the nanocytes?” She snorted in disgust. “Who am I kidding? You don’t give two shits about your people, do you?”

  Meon squirmed under Bethany Anne’s unforgiving glare. “Of course, we do. Our people are already dying. With every generation that passes, the corruption that was planted in our genetic coding mutates further.” The Moen brushed her fingers over the damage in the table. “We are bound to this planet until we can undo what was done to us by the Seven.”

  Bethany Anne held up a hand, feeling Michael stiffen behind her at the mention of Kurtherians.

  Meon sighed—genuinely this time. “We cannot risk all that we have suffered for on the hope that you will leave us the cure we seek.”

  “Mother of…” Bethany Anne touched her fingers to her temples. “Why is it that every damn place I go, there’s another planet full of self-serving, passive-aggressive politicians in my way? Do you even know what it is you’re failing to steal?”

  Meon nodded. “We have been working on learning where the nanocyte suspension is kept, but access is restricted, and our guards are vigilant.”

  Bethany Anne rolled her eyes. “Your guards don’t scare me.” She raised a finger at Meon before the alder could interrupt. “I told you, I’m done. This is how you're going to operate from here on out. I’m going to reverse my withdrawal and wipe out the Ooken, and you are going to work a fucking sight harder than you have been to get the location of that substance.” She sent a comm bud skittering across the table. “Get everyone else out of the city unless you want to go out as Ooken shields.”

  “You cannot destroy our planet,” Meon squawked, banging her staff on the floor. “That makes you no better than our masters.”

  Bethany Anne shrugged. “I’ve spent too much time chasing my tail to care about your feelings. In fact, I’m not just done with this conversation, I’m done with this planet. Consider yourselves sanctioned. You will get your cure, but no Moen will leave this planet until you grow the fuck up.”

  She got to her feet with a last look of disgust and swept out of the chamber.

  Michael was close behind her. Nicely done, although I thought you went a little easy on them.

  Bethany Anne opened the way into the Etheric, tempering her compulsion to collapse the dune around them as they left. I don’t want to be here a minute longer than I have to be. We will pick up the children the moment we get back to the ship, then we’ll hightai
l it to Devon, where we can make some actual progress instead of playacting in this trumped-up fucking farce.

  Michael followed Bethany Anne into the swirling mist. I would have killed one of them as an example to the others.

  Bethany Anne snarled as she swept a hand to open the way back to the ship. Fuck them. Seriously, they can sit and rot. If I thought it would get those low-bellied ass pimples motivated, I’d have killed however many it took to make it happen. As it is, I have better uses for my energy, like getting everyone together and getting a handle on this fucking war.

  I can’t argue with your logic, Michael conceded. Leave gathering everyone to me. I’ll take care of it once I’ve gotten the children aboard. I’m guessing you have some working out of your own to do.

  You guessed right, and thank you. Bethany Anne prodded Michael to show him where to exit to the transport bay, then strode out of the Etheric onto the bridge. She headed straight for her couch, collapsing onto it with a frustrated sigh. “Izanami, take us over to the ArchAngel, and inform the Admiral that I expect my children to be ready to leave when we get there.”

  7

  Location Three, Leaving Moen, QBS Izanami

  Bethany Anne dropped her Baba Yaga mask when Izanami appeared on the screen wearing an exact replica of her, well, everything.

  The AI turned Baba Yaga’s face to Bethany Anne, lifting a hand to indicate the shattered rock carpeting the empty space beyond Moen’s BYPS. “It appears your honor guard found something to defend us against.”

  Bethany Anne took one look at the QBS Cambridge, which was finishing up with the final Ooken destroyer. “Leave them to their fun, but tell John we’re leaving shortly. If I have to stay here, I might change my mind about collapsing that dune.” Izanami raised an eyebrow, distracting Bethany Anne momentarily from the rage she was building to a head once again. She waved a finger to encompass the AI’s sudden expansion to her wardrobe and emotive range. “What is this?”

  “I have decided to imprint on you.” Izanami’s features morphed to match Bethany Anne’s. “I am currently making the decision as to which of your faces I shall wear.”

 

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