Symbiosis

by R S Penney

  In his mind's eye, he saw Vincent sit up and reach for the gun that had landed at his side. Come on! Come on! The other man picked up his pistol and got to his feet, groaning audibly.

  Jack leaped.

  He flew like Superman with his arms outstretched, passing right over the top of the car. He landed flat on his belly, skidding on the concrete. Seconds later, the car's windows shattered as bullets punched through them.

  “I'm going to kill you, Hunter!” Vincent bellowed. “Rest assured of that!” Jack had no doubt that the man meant every word, and with the car in the way, he couldn't monitor Vincent's movements.

  His own pistol was lying on the ground not far from the door that led back to the other garage. If he moved a few feet, he would reach it. Jack crawled toward his weapon, keeping low to make use of the car's protection.

  The sound of gunfire drowned out Vincent's footsteps, but his Nassai told him that the other man was not in a line of sight. Not yet. He had to retrieve the pistol before that happened.

  Glass crunched beneath his gloved hand, tiny shards digging into his palm. Jack suppressed the urge to scream. That might send the other man running over to finish him off with one quick shot, and-

  Glass!

  Jack scooped up a handful of it, ignoring the jagged edges. Calling on his Nassai, he readied a Bending that would change the pull of gravity. A burst of reassuring emotion told him this would work.

  Vincent stepped around the car, lifting his pistol.

  Applying the Bending, Jack whirled around and flung the glass. Tiny shards flew toward the other man – fell toward the other man – and Vincent backed away, raising an arm to shield himself.

  Jagged glass punched through his vest and buried itself in his forearm. Kevlar armour was not designed to deflect sharp things. Knives would slip right through without any real difficulty.

  Vincent's arm flailed, his pistol going off with a CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! and launching slugs toward the ceiling. Now! Jack thought, snatching up his fallen gun. Let's even the odds!

  He spun around, extending his arm. He fired several times, and the recoil sent a jolt of pain through him.

  Bullets slammed into Vincent's stomach, deflected by his vest, but the impact threw him to the floor. He landed on his backside, wheezing and gasping in pain. Now, for the fun part.

  Jack stood up.

  Raising the gun in both hands, he snarled at his opponent. Sweat seemed to gush from his pores. “Drop your weapon,” he ordered in a voice that sounded so very unlike his own. “I'm serious.”

  Vincent complied.

  Marching over to him, Jack seized the top of the ski mask and yanked it off in one quick motion. The bruised face of Wesley Pennfield stared up at him, blinking as tears rolled over his cheeks.

  “It's old man Pennfield!” Jack exclaimed. “The guy who used to run that haunted amusement park.” When his mocking provoked no response, he added, “You're supposed to reply with, 'And I would have gotten away with it, if it weren't for you snooping kids!' ”

  “You have no idea what you've unleashed,” Pennfield said. “The reunion of the Lost Sons is a sign of the End.”

  A loud ca-chunk from the back of the room startled Jack, but rather than take his eyes off Pennfield, he used his spatial awareness. Someone had opened the stairwell door, the one in the far corner.

  Anna stepped out, limping on her right leg. Elation burst through him the instant he realized it was her. Fighting for his life had left him little time to contemplate what was happening in the other room, but he had been quite afraid for her safety. “I see you have things well in hand,” she said.

  Stepping away from Pennfield – a moment's inattention would allow the man a chance to reach for his gun – Jack grinned. “I could say the same for you,” he replied. “I should have known you'd carve that robot into little chunks.”

  Blushing hard, Anna smiled down at the floor. “Well, what can I say?” she asked with a shrug. “Fabulous secrets were revealed to me the day I held aloft my sword and said, 'For the Honour of Grayskull!' ”

  “Nice reference!”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I Googled.”

  “What should we do with him?” Pennfield was gritting his teeth, snarling into his lap. He shook his head and growled. “Even with the two of us for guards, shoving him into a cell will be hard.”

  “You are both fools!” Pennfield looked up to flash clenched teeth in an ugly scowl. “Do you honestly believe you can hold me?”

  “Way to break a guy's heart, Wes,” Jack mocked. “I was thinking we could spoon on the couch with Jewel playing in the background.”

  Anna frowned, looking down at herself. She heaved out a soft sigh. “We still have people out there, Jack,” she said. “People who need our help. Order him to deactivate the second drone.”

  “You heard the lady.”

  “I think not.” Pennfield stiffened, turning his head so that Jack could only see him in profile. “Why would I give away my single bargaining chip? If you want to save your friends, you'll have to make me an offer.”

  Jack felt his face redden, nodding to the man. “You make a very good point,” he said, stepping forward. He pressed the barrel of his gun to Wesley's forehead. “So either you turn off the machine, or I fire.”

  “You don't have the stomach.”

  Could he do it? Could he really kill a man in cold blood? Sure, he had fired on this guy earlier, but at that time Vincent had been another combatant on the field. Now, he was at Jack's mercy. “I suspected as much,” Pennfield muttered. “You Keepers are all soft and unwilling to do what must be done.”

  Wincing so hard that he trembled, Jack looked away from the other man. He felt a growl rumble in his throat. “Fine,” he spat. “I guess my paragon score goes up. We'll just have to make another deal.”

  The tiny smile on Anna's face told him that she agreed with his decision. She kept her eyes on the floor, remaining silent, but he knew. “I hope you're not modest, An,” Jack said. “'Cause we're about to see some naked billionaire.”

  “Excuse me?” Pennfield said.

  “I figure if I strip you down to your birthday suit, there'll be a pretty good chance that whatever's protecting you from the drones will no longer be an issue. Then we're gonna take a little walk to the other garage.”

  Pennfield looked up at him with cold gray eyes that reflected the fluorescent bulbs overhead. “How would that be different from shooting me?” he asked. “Murder by proxy is still murder.”

  Jack grinned, bowing his head to the other man. “You're forgetting something,” he said, eyebrows shooting upward. “I'm not the one who turned on the drones. Technically, this is suicide by proxy.”

  “Devious,” Anna murmured. “But I'll allow it.”

  “I will not comply.”

  “That's fine,” Jack mocked. “Anna never really got to have her college-girl phase; so I'm sure she's happy to start ripping your clothes off. Do a little dance, and she might even give you a tip. You have a belt knife, don't you, An?”

  She produced it with a flourish.

  Pennfield bit his lip, his face turning red. “Very well,” he growled, pulling a small rectangular device from the pocket on his vest. “I will do as you ask. But this isn't over, Hunter.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Jack said. “You can give me the villain speech tomorrow. I'll make it a point to visit your cell. Tonight, I just want a shower.”

  The roar of gunfire went suddenly silent, leaving Jack with an uneasy feeling in his chest. He had grown so used to the cacophony that its absence felt wrong. Now, all they had to do was wrap up.

  The metal monstrosity came lumbering out of the door that led into the garage, one arm raised to point a closed fist at them. With dents and chips in its gleaming armour, it turned its head to fix the camera lens on Aamani.

  “Not yet,” she whispered, lifting her sub-machine gun. “We need to hold on just a little while longer. Lenai won't let us down.”

&
nbsp; The red sports car that had been parked beneath the open air provided cover for the time being, but that didn't stop her from flinching when bullets started zipping over her head. Lenai had managed to destroy one of these beasts – and she would see to it that the other woman received a Medal of Honour for that – but her crew had had no luck with the other one.

  Two men in black gear were hiding behind cars on her left and her right, each with a rifle in hand. As one, they aimed over the hoods of their respective vehicles and then let loose.

  The robot stumbled just before a screen of flickering white energy shimmered into place, intercepting each slug. Aamani could see them falling uselessly to the ground. Her weapons had no effect.

  Pursing her lips, Aamani shut her eyes tight. She shook her head with a gasp that all but drained her lungs. “There has to be something we can do,” she said. “Allah above. It can't be invincible.”

  The screen of energy shot forward to slam into the other side of the car she'd used for cover. The impact was enough to rock the vehicle and shatter all windows, sending glass raining down on her. If any of it cut her skin, Aamani didn't notice. Adrenaline had taken care of that.

  Sparks flashed across the robot's body as it tried to lift its arm to take aim, causing it to stumble about. Aamani didn't bother to watch what happened next. She hid behind the car with fingers laced over her head.

  Bullets zipped through the air above her.

  “I bear witness that there is none worthy of worship but God,” Aamani whispered. “I bear witness that Muhammad is the Prophet of God.” It was a prayer that she'd been taught as a child. She only half believed, but now seemed like a good time to find what faith she could.

  Just like that, the thing stopped firing and lowered its arm to point at the ground, the light in its camera lens suddenly going dark. Had someone shut the thing off? By Allah, why would Pennfield do so now?

  “Is everyone alright?” she called out.

  “I'm fine,” McConnell shouted. “Bruce is down.”

  Aamani spun around, putting her back to the van. She tilted her head back, shutting her eyes tight. “All right,” she said. “Start rounding up the wounded. Michael, Maaz, you two are on first aid.”

  She ventured out of cover.

  The robot just stood there with arms at its sides, head pointed down at the ground. For all intents and purposes, the thing was dead. Or at least off. “Call in back-up. Let's get these people to a hospital.”

  The garage door behind the robot was still open, and for the first time, Aamani truly noticed the damage that had been done. Cars had been shredded to pieces of scrap metal with shards of glass on the floor.

  The large pillars at the back of the garage looked as though they had been gnawed on by giants, and both bore scorch marks. Lights flickered in the ceiling, one going out in a shower of sparks.

  Aamani shuddered

  She was so focused on the devastation that she barely noticed as somebody came stumbling up on her left. A man in black pants and a turtleneck walked with his hands in the air, his face bloodied. Despite that, Aamani had no problem recognizing his features.

  She closed her eyes and let out a deep breath. “Wesley Pennfield,” she said, removing her helmet, tossing her head about to let her black hair fly loose. “It seems you're a man of many surprises.”

  “Heh-hem.”

  Anna Lenai stood a little ways off with fists on her hips, a stern expression on her face. “I think someone else deserves your compliments,” she said, jerking her head to the side. “He's the reason you're still alive.”

  Hunter leaned sideways, peeking at her over Pennfield's shoulder with a big grin. “Uh, hi there, Director,” he said. “If it's all the same to you, can we skip the praise and segue directly into securing that SlipGate?”

  “Agreed.”

  “The Gate will do you no good,” Pennfield muttered. “You cannot begin to comprehend what you-”

  “Hey!” Jack said, nudging him. “What did I say about gloating, Wes?”

  The man went silent.

  Aamani turned, surveying the empty parking lot. Several cars had been turned into smoking wrecks beneath the tall streetlights, and several of her people spread out on the ground. Anna Lenai had already chosen the nearest victim, and now knelt near his body with her back turned.

  The gibbous moon was high in the night sky, casting silver light across clouds that floated over the city. It would have been a pretty night if not for the carnage. Her stomach did flip-flops.

  “Director Patel!” A young man in black gear came running toward her, panting with every step. “You need to hear this, ma'am.”

  Lifting her chin, Aamani fixed her gaze on him. She arched a dark eyebrow. “What is it, Karl?” she inquired. “Is everything alright?”

  He stopped in front of her, hunching over her and heaving out a breath. “Radio is out, ma'am,” he said, shaking his head. “Can't get a cell phone signal either. Something's flooding every frequency.”

  “What?”

  He removed the small radio from the pocket on his vest, turning up the volume with a quick twist of the knob. “Endo ori en valis,” a voice said through the speaker. “Enasko an teyglar kaine ronis enday Leana Lenai.”

  Anna perked up.

  An icy lump found its way into the pit of Aamani's stomach. She didn't much care for the implications of those words. “It means 'we are here peacefully,' ” Lenai provided. “We seek a Justice Keeper whose name is Leana Lenai.”

  Aamani breathed deeply.

  “Director,” Jack added. “I think the Leyrians are here.”

  Chapter 29

  Anna stood in the parking lot with hands in her pockets, watching as the shuttle settled to a stop and hovered just above them. Nearly six weeks had passed since her arrival on this world, and in all that time, all she could think about was how much she wanted to go home. Now, all she could think about was how much she wanted to stay.

  The shuttle was a small craft, shaped like the head of an arrow with a large canopy window that looked in on the cockpit. Lights on the wings blinked, and the soft sound of anti-gravitation engines was almost soothing.

  It began to descend.

  Chewing on her lip, Anna looked down at the ground. The wind whipped at her hair, blowing strands back from her face. “Here we go,” she said, stepping forward. “Papa's home, and you might have to explain the raging house party.”

  Little struts extended from the shuttle's belly, allowing it to settle on the pavement with its nose pointed off to her right. The lights along the wings went dark. Anna briefly wondered if she might get a reprimand. What would they think when they learned that a young man of this world had bonded a Nassai?

  A hatch in the shuttle's side opened, flopping down to create a series of steps that led to the ground. In the dim light, she could just make out the inner doors of the airlock. They opened with a hiss.

  The woman who emerged was tall and slender, dressed in gray pants and a blue t-shirt under her dark trench coat. Her face was pretty, but boyishly short hair would have turned off many men. “You're Lenai?” she asked.

  Pressing her lips together, Anna looked up to meet her gaze. She blinked. “I guess it depends who's asking,” she said with a shrug. “You're the one who showed up in a well-armed shuttle. How 'bout you answer first?”

  The woman looked up to study her with a hard expression, streetlights reflected in her deep brown eyes. “Jena Morane,” she said. “Operative Jena Morane. I was sent here to rescue you.”

  Jena Morane lifted a forearm, displaying the gauntlet that housed her multi-tool. “If you'll just give me a moment,” she said, tapping away, “I'd be happy to offer you some real proof.”

  Anna's tool beeped.

  When she checked the screen, she saw that Jena had transmitted one of the security ID codes that she had been given before departing Petross Station in pursuit of Denario. That meant her orders did indeed come from Grecken Slade.

  Anna
frowned as she looked up at the other woman. She felt her eyebrows draw together. “I guess that'll do,” she said with a curt nod. “So, I'm guessing that you have a ship in orbit?”

  Jena closed her eyes, nodded once in confirmation. “We do,” she began. “And if it's not too much trouble, maybe we could continue this conversation after we're safely aboard that ship.”

  “What's going on?”

  “I don't know if you realize this,” Jena said. “But the lovely people of this planet have scrambled aircraft in an attempt to defend themselves from what they no doubt see as a hostile invasion. We've tried standard greetings, but we just can't communicate with them. I assume you know the local language?”

  “I do.”

  “Good,” the woman barked. “Then you can help us make first contact before they decide to start shooting things.”

  Anna looked back over her shoulder.

  Jack was standing on the grassy hill that bordered the parking lot, keeping his head down. If she got in that shuttle, would she ever see him again? Did it matter? She had a job to do. “All right,” she said. “Let's go.”

  As he watched the shuttle rise into the air, Jack felt a pang of anxiety mixed with sadness. Anna had insisted that he hang back in case the people onboard weren't who they claimed to be. Now she was gone. He didn't really think anything would happen to her – not really – but being shot at tended to make a man paranoid.

  Patel approached.

  The woman's face was haggard, her long dark hair in a state of disarray. She let out a deep breath. “Are you alright, Jack?” she asked with more sympathy in her voice than he would have expected. “I'm sure they won't hurt her.”

  Crossing his arms with a sigh, Jack frowned down at the ground. “I'm holding up okay,” he said, nodding. “I don't think they'll hurt her, but I can't help but wonder what this means for the rest of us.”

  “I suspect there will be many changes,” she said. “We've got the wounded on their way back to headquarters, and Pennfield's on his way to a maximum-security detention cell. I think we should get you down to the Med-Wing as well.”