by R S Penney
It came at him.
The creature moved with such incredible speed, it almost seemed to blur, flowing nimbly over a cavern floor that squished with its every step. Those yellow eyes blazed, and Jon knew this thing intended to kill him.
The creature kicked at his stomach.
Jon bent forward, catching its foot with both hands just before it made contact, but the impact was still enough to lift him off his feet. He flew upward until his back almost hit the ceiling, then fell.
Crossing his arms in front of his face, Jon called upon his Nassai and Bent gravity. He launched himself like a missile, flying face-first straight at his target. At the very last second, Jon grabbed the Overseer's shoulders.
He turned upside-down over its head, forcing his opponent down onto its back, then flipped upright to land behind it. In his mind's eye, he could already see the thing getting to its feet.
He spun around to face it.
The creature swiped at his head.
Jon ducked and felt a clawed hand pass over him. He threw a pair of jabs into the Overseer's stomach, then rose with a jump to deliver a mean right-hook to the cheek. The blow landed with enough force to turn the creature's head aside. If it had possessed teeth, it would have spit them onto the floor.
Seizing Jon's shirt in both hands the Overseer fell backward and brought a knee up to slam into his chest. The wind flew out of his lungs. The next thing Jon knew, he was flying as well, flipping over to land on his back.
Enhanced strength, a disembodied voice said. Heightened reflexes. You have been modified in some way, human. That does not bode well for species. Which of my kind did this to you?
Clenching his teeth, Jon winced and felt spittle fly from his mouth. “I don't know what you're talking about!” he hissed, getting up. “We haven't seen your people in almost ten thousand years!”
He turned.
The Overseer was coming at him.
Instead of pressing its attack, it melted, its flesh joining with the tissue that made up the cavern's floor. The creature seemed to collapse into a puddle of skin, muscle and bone, disintegrating until there was nothing left.
Seconds later, another bulge rose from the floor, growing larger and larger until it formed a tent that went halfway to the ceiling. The tissue ripped apart, revealing a beast that looked like a hairless lion.
Four-legged with grasping digits on each paw and a rounded snout where its nose should be, it stared at him through glowing yellow eyes. Then it was loping at him like a wolf on the hunt.
Jon drew his pistol. “High impact!”
He jumped, flipping upside-down as the creature ran past underneath him. He fired and watched a slug strike a spot where the creature's spine should be. Dark crimson blood exploded from the wound.
Jon flipped upright to land on one knee with the pistol raised up beside his head. In his mind's eye, he saw the Overseer fall flat on its belly and slide across the cavern floor. Before it traveled more than two paces, it began to melt again.
A bulge stretched downward from the ceiling, then ripped apart to expose a winged, bat-like creature that descended toward him with talons outstretched. Jon felt a moment of panic that distracted him just long enough.
The creature swooped over him, clawed talons grabbing his shoulders and lifting him right off the floor. It carried him up toward the ceiling. What are you? the strange voice whispered. I do not recognize your kind.
It slammed Jon hard into the cavern wall, driving the wind from his lungs. May the Bleakness take him, he half-expected the only reason the impact hadn't fractured his spine was the fact that this place was made of soft tissue instead of rock. You have bonded one of the Brindon-Ka! Its cellular structure is fused with your own.
“It's called a Nassai,” he wheezed.
Nassai? They have developed language?
“Through us, yes…”
The creature threw its head back and let out a howl of pain. Its talons released Jon, and he found himself sliding down the sticky wall with alarming speed. All he got was a brief glimpse of the thing flapping its wings.
He landed on his ass with his legs stretched out before him, groaning as he pressed the back of his head to the wall. “Why do I let Jena talk me into these things?” he asked in a voice so soft it was barely audible.
When his vision cleared, he saw Keli standing in the middle of the cavern with a hand stretched up toward the flying creature. Her face was glistening, and it was clear that she was concentrating. “Enough!” she spat. “Leave him be!”
The creature…flew into the wall.
When flesh met flesh, the ugly thing melted and became part of the cavern once again, its bones and muscles all twisting and contorting with a horrible slimy sound. Listening to it made his stomach turn.
Jon looked up at the ceiling with tears streaming over his face. He blinked several times in confusion. “Why?” It came out as a croak. “Why attack us in this way? We have done nothing to you.”
I must understand.
Scrunching up his face like a man who had been kicked in the belly, Jon shook his head. “Understand what?” Deep inside, he felt his symbiont's terror. “If you really want to know about us, just ask.”
I must see how the galaxy has changed in my absence. There was definite anxiety in that voice. What could make an Overseer feel afraid? Jon wasn't sure that he wanted to know. Who possesses the Key?
“What Key?”
You know nothing of it?
Keli stood with her arms folded, her face turned up to the ceiling. “We have never heard of this Key.” Her look of concentration made Jon think that she was trying to probe the Overseer's mind. “What is it?”
If the Key remains unclaimed, there is still time. You must return to the birth place of your species. You must not allow it to be taken by the agents of my brethren…We may be able to…
Jon swallowed.
“Able to what?” Keli demanded.
My brethren have been alerted to my condition. They know that you have roused me from my slumber. Ships are returning to this system at high warp. You must depart before they find you.
Jon got to his feet.
“But there's so much you can teach us,” he panted. Staying on his feet was a challenge. “If we go, we may lose the opportunity.”
If you stay, you will be taken by the others. They will extract from you everything you have learned here, and then they will accelerate their plans for your species. Rest assured that you will die in agony. Go now, before it is too late.
And just like that, the exhaustion was suddenly a lot more manageable. He ran for the tunnel, gripping Keli's arm as he passed and dragging her along with him. She pulled away from him in indignation, but made no protest as they ran across the slimy ground.
The Overseers knew of what they had done here? Somehow, Jon was pretty damn sure that the one that they had met here was something of an outcast among its people. It seemed to disapprove of the Overseers' plans–whatever those were. Just yesterday, Jon had been unaware that the Overseers had plans for his people. He was fairly certain that he would have preferred to remain in ignorance.
Less than five minutes later, they stepped onto the stone plate at the bottom of the circular shaft. It began to rise as soon as they made contact, rumbling and shaking as it traveled slowly upward. Each second brought him closer and closer to a panic. Come on! Can't this thing go any faster?
He half considered grabbing Keli, and using Bent Gravity to take them the rest of the way, but he didn't want to tax his Nassai any further.
They reached the surface.
Jon ran through the gap between two pillars, raising two hands up to shield his face from the dust. “Come on!” he growled to Keli. “I don't know how well the Overseers can track us, but the sooner we get out of here, the better!”
The shuttle was sitting on the ground just a few dozen paces away, turned so that its nose was pointed off to their left. He could already see that some dust had settled
onto the wing. “Hurry!”
Keli was running behind him, panting with every step and almost stumbling more than once. She slowed down when they got within range of the shuttle. “Just give me a minute.”
“We don't have a minute!”
He opened the air-lock with his security code.
Grabbing Keli by the scruff of her neck, he shoved her through then followed. The cabin was a small room with a square table in the middle and a SlipGate positioned along the back wall. Keli dropped into one of the chairs there, which was just fine with him; he was more than content to leave her to rest there.
Booking it to the cockpit, Jon dropped into the pilots seat. His canopy window was covered with a light coating of dust. That would come off fast enough as soon as they got off the ground.
He tapped at the console.
The shuttle rose slowly into the air, then pitched its nose up toward the clear blue sky and sped toward the heavens. Long-range SlipSpace scans showed three warp trails converging on this system from a few lightyears away. They had made it just in time.
The door to the cabin opened.
“They're coming?” Keli asked.
Biting his lip, Jon winced and nodded. “They're coming,” he said, spinning his seat around. “Three warp trails on the far side of the solar system. They'll be here in just under five minutes.”
Keli stood by the door with hands folded over her stomach, her eyes downcast so he couldn't see her expression. “This is my fault,” she murmured. “They know that we're aware of them now.”
“They'd have found out anyway.”
He swiveled around to find that the blue sky in his window was fading to a deep black with thousands of tiny lights twinkling in the distance. Another minute, and they would be far enough from the planet's gravity well for a warp jump.
Immediately, he began punching in coordinates, having the navigational computer calculate the safest path to their destination. It would be difficult. He would have to fly around Antauran Space rather than going through it. A Leyrian shuttle in enemy territory? That would not go over well. “Where are we going?” Keli asked from behind him.
“I don't know about you,” he answered, “but I intend to deliver this information to the person who asked for it. We're going to Earth.”
Part 2
Chapter 16
Silver rays of sunlight from an open window in a white cinder-block wall fell upon a bed that had been set up in the middle of the tiled floor. The patient who sat on that bed was a middle-aged woman with hollow cheeks and long blonde hair that was starting to turn gray. She grunted at the sling that kept her arm immobilized.
Melissa clicked her tongue.
She was down on one knee before the woman, head bowed as she fussed with the sling. “There,” she said, nodding once. “That should hold for the time being. I'll get Dr. Hamilton to take a look at you.”
“Thank you,” the woman muttered.
With a sigh, Melissa stood up and turned around. This place that had once been a classroom in a school on the north side of Queens was now filled with nine twin beds on wheels. With Slade's goons targeting hospitals, it had been necessary to find somewhere else to take the victims who were wounded in the attacks.
Each one of those beds was occupied by people in varying degrees of distress. An old man with a broken leg, a twenty-something woman who had been knocked out and showed no signs of waking up any time soon. It was awful. Just a few years ago, when Melissa had started high school, she had heard stories about the horrors of World War One. Now, having seen what she had seen, she believed it. And you want to be a Justice Keeper? a small voice whispered. Get ready to see a lot more of this.
Melissa closed her eyes and shook her head vigorously to dispel the thought. You have good reasons for your choices, she noted, making her way across the room. Dad probably asked himself the same thing a thousand times.
A woman in a white lab coat who wore her curly brown hair cut short stood in the doorway that led out to a hallway with blue lockers. She was speaking to one of the other volunteers, nodding with every word.
“Dr. Hamilton,” Melissa said.
The woman turned her head to frown at Melissa, then her expression softened half a moment later. “Ms. Carlson, right?” she said in that frank matter-of-fact tone doctors seemed to use instinctively. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“I was hoping you could check on the patient in bed 7.”
A warm smile bloomed on the other woman's face, and she actually bowed her head respectfully. “I think we can trust your competence with that,” she replied. “I've inspected your work several times. You have a future in medicine if you want it.”
Melissa felt her cheeks burn, but she managed to keep her composure with a little effort. She really wasn't good at taking praise. “Thank you, ma'am,” she said. “But I've already made a commitment to the Justice Keepers.”
“Ah yes, I'd heard as much from one of the nurses,” the doctor replied. “A shame. But it does present us with an opportunity. Would you walk with me for a few minutes, Ms. Carlson?”
“Of course.”
They started up a hallway with bright blue lockers in each wall and fluorescent lights in the ceiling that flickered. The clocks were all wrong, each one blinking the incorrect time in bright red characters.
Melissa crossed her arms and hunched up her shoulders, walking along with her head down. “Have I done something wrong, ma'am?” she managed after a moment. “If so, I want to make it up to-”
Dr. Janet Hamilton stared straight ahead with a smile on her face. “No, Melissa,” she replied, shaking her head. “But you will forgive me as news does travel. Is it true that you know several Justice Keepers personally?”
The instinct to answer with an immediate “yes, ma'am,” was hard to ignore, but she got a hold of herself before her mouth said something stupid. Maybe she'd been spending too much time with Jack, but Melissa couldn't help but wonder why the woman wanted to know. “May I ask why, ma'am?”
“Because we're in trouble.”
Melissa stopped short.
The older woman spun to face her with arms crossed in a perfect doctor pose, her face betraying nothing but composure. “Some of the officers who patrol the streets check in with me,” she explained. “We all know that Grecken Slade's terrorists like to travel in large, unmarked vans. Ever since the cell phones started working again, more and more of those vans have been spotted in this neighbourhood, and yet they haven't attacked even one target.”
“Meaning they're planning something.”
“Exactly.”
Melissa hung her head, then covered her eyes with one hand. “I can make contact with Director Jena Morane,” she grumbled. “I don't know if the Keepers will be able to spare anyone.”
A frown compressed the other woman's mouth into a thin line, but she nodded just the same. “It'll have to do,” she said. “If your phone isn't working, you can borrow mine. Just remember we have a lot of sick people here.”
“I'll do what I can.”
“Thank you, Melissa.”
When Dr. Hamilton left – striding down the hallway toward another classroom full of patients – Melissa found herself feeling a little odd. For the first time in her life, she was important. She was the one with contacts, the one with influence. That was a fairly new experience for her.
She had always been somewhat popular among the girls – and to some extent, the boys – of her school, but no one would ever call her the leader of any particular group. Now, a doctor who would be running a hospital under normal circumstances was coming to her for help. It was unsettling–and exciting.
She grabbed her phone and called Jena.
The light in the bedroom of the apartment that Jena had commandeered flickered as the power faltered for half a second. It came back mere moments later, shining strong on a bed with white sheets and a dresser with a mirror.
Harry was lying on that bed with his hands fold
ed behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. “So I've been wondering,” he called out. “Would it be entirely too cliché if I said I was getting too old for this?”
The door swung open to reveal Jena striding into the room in black pants and a tight gray t-shirt. “Nope,” she said, throwing some dirty laundry she was carrying into a basket on the floor. “But I might make fun of you.”
“So what happens next?”
Jena squeezed her eyes shut, trembling as she let out a ragged breath. “I just got off a call with Directors Koss and Shinval,” she said, approaching the foot of the bed. “Now that we can communicate, they've been tracking Slade's people.”
Harry sat up.
A yawn stretched his mouth until it hurt, but he stifled it with his fist. “Well, that's good,” he said sleepily. “I take it they've been able to figure out where those god damn vans are coming from.”
Jena leaned against the dresser across from the bed with arms folded, staring over his head at a spot on the wall. “Most of them are going to a warehouse on the south side of Brooklyn. We think that's where Slade is holed up.”
“So, we're going after him?”
“No.”
Sighing softly, Harry felt the tension drain out of his muscles. Was it wrong that he was relieved to hear that running head-first into the jaws of death? It wasn't as though he had never been in tough situations before – you didn't survive over fifteen years on the Force without someone pulling a gun on you – but outright combat? He'd nearly had a heart attack while they were driving away under fire.
“I also got a call from your daughter,” Jena went on. Now, that got his attention. As always, whenever he heard Melissa's name mentioned, the first place his mind went was worst case scenario. Had she been injured attending to her duties? No, of course not. Jena would have brought that up right away. “She filled me in on what's going on. They've got her working at a makeshift hospital in queens. One of the doctors there thinks that Slade's people have been skulking about.”
