by David Beers
Talking into her comm, she asked, “Does he know you’re still there? Does he have any idea you’re listening?”
“This answer cannot be a short one. Do you want to hear it?”
The AI had learned early that Cristin expected to-the-point answers without a lot of filler. If the answer was long, it was because it had to be.
“Go,” she commanded.
“I cannot say with one hundred percent positivity. I believe he was impressed by my abilities, and based on personality analysis, there was a high probability he thought he could communicate with you through me, which is possible, as you know. I’m able to measure his heart rate and blood pressure through the comm, both of which are remarkably low and have been the entire time. If they were higher, I’d say his physical and mental state had led him to forget. A small percentage of humans have a natural inclination to their central nervous system not reacting in large swings. If that is the case, then based on human psychology in wartime, I’d put it at a seventy-five-percent chance that he’s forgotten. If he isn’t worried or stressed, there’s a ninety-five-percent chance he’s a psychopath and a twenty-percent chance he’s forgotten.”
Cristin’s nails dug into her palm. Twenty to a seventy-five percent chance that he’d forgotten, or an eighty to twenty-five percent chance that this was some kind of strategy.
Psychopath or a natural inclination?
She had to make a choice and quickly. The troops were landing.
Standing in the empty stairwell, she shook her head. He wasn’t a psychopath. The man cared too much about his family and people who were not his family to be a psychopath. His body simply didn’t freak out, which most likely meant he’d forgotten.
The image of his barely controlled corvette in that dogfight filled her mind. He didn’t plan. He acted. That was what he was doing now.
Two hundred soldiers and she was one of them.
This was the ambush she needed.
Cristin rarely questioned her decisions after she made them, but she understood this man was different.
“Let me know any updates immediately. I’m going to the roof.”
The AI said nothing in acknowledgment, just as Cristin wanted it.
She took the stairs slowly. She doubted if her soldiers could kill the man, but tire him? Weaken him?
Certainly.
Nanotech swarmed through the air, tiny bug-like creatures looking for allies’ injuries.
Nero had damn near emptied himself of them the moment he’d stepped onto the roof. Prometheus understood the physical toll that took on the gigante. He also knew Nero had done it because he understood the most important directive.
Stay alive.
It wasn’t the nanotech Prometheus saw now, but the multitude of black-armored humans and fur-covered hybrids trying to kill him.
His mind blanketed the roof while his body moved across it as if he had no physical form.
He could have been a mage of old, his Whip the wand that performed his magic. His amplified strength had reached unknown levels with the Fire Starter. The hybrids came for him, most not holding weapons, some having sabers.
It didn’t matter.
He cut them down like blades of grass.
His mind was where the battle truly was. He needed to know two things: Obs, Nero, and Thoreaux were alive, and when that bitch was coming up here. Mentally, he could toss a lot of the enemy over the edge, but he needed their cover to ensure the shepherd arrived.
Nero was five meters from him and was constantly under threat of being overwhelmed. His rage from earlier was back; the giant seemed to be angry that he hadn’t died and was taking that massive disappointment out on anyone in front of him.
Still, there were too many. The nanotech was covering him to heal deep gashes and penetrations. Pro constantly had to cut his way to the giant and stand back to back with him until the number dwindled.
Obs was racing around the perimeter like a sheepdog from Earth. He was careful with his attacks, moving in when he saw an opening and darting back out just as quickly. Thoreaux was taking a similar approach, and Prometheus couldn’t have been prouder of his second. He was holding onto his rage and picking them off from the outside. He’d left Pro and Nero to be the tanks in the middle, but Pro couldn’t have saved Nero and Thoreaux.
Another transport was coming with another hundred soldiers in it. The bitch was trying to drown them.
The giant was weakening, his pure rage unable to keep up with the damage his body was taking.
Pro started toward him again. He might not survive another separation.
A human soldier leveled a rifle at Pro. His Whip slashed the man’s right leg off, and he fell to the knee of his left while screaming. Pro jumped and used the dying man’s shoulder to launch into the air.
He came down behind a hybrid that had his claws deep in Nero’s shoulders.
The creature came apart, his lower body falling to the roof.
Nero shoved the upper half off him.
The giant turned, knowing what to do.
The transport flew above them. It wasn’t going to land this time, so the soldiers dropped from the air. Small parachutes were attached to their shoulders and arms. When they spread their arms wide, the wind lowered them safely. Ten dropped at a time.
Prometheus decided to try something, his reckless side unable to be kept at bay.
He tossed the Whip into the air with as much force as he could. The lasers started to retract since his touch was gone, but not before they impaled one of the falling soldiers.
Prometheus ducked a hybrid’s clawed swipe and mentally rushed the Whip back to his hand.
It came to life, and the hybrid fell.
He heard Nero yell from behind him and turned. The giant was on one knee, a human’s saber having sliced halfway through his right leg. The nanotech swarmed, but Pro knew time was running out.
His Whip lashed out and took off the human’s head.
That was when he felt it—the stairwell door opening at the far corner of the building.
The Ice Queen had arrived.
Pro stepped in front of the fallen gigante. The AI would be able to tell Pro was speaking to it. He’d studied the thing for this very reason. “AI, connect with your queen.”
He heard the click, then said one word.
“Welcome.”
He was facing her direction. Obs and Thoreaux were out of the way, Nero behind him. He lunged forward, and his mind rushed toward her.
People and hybrids fell out of the way as if a wave of fire were ripping through the air. Those near the edge fell, and those flying above were blitzed upward, their tiny parachutes helpless to save them on their next fall. The transport’s engines couldn’t combat the force, and it too was thrust away from the building before beginning a fatal fall.
A tunnel formed between him and her.
The fighting ceased. All stared at their queen and her challenger.
Still connected through the comm, Prometheus said, “Let’s see who can save their family.”
Chapter Eighteen
The AllMother’s mind was everywhere in the building but the roof. She’d tried to go up there too, ignoring Pro’s orders, but his power had covered it, and she found it too tiring to push through.
The battle on the other floors was more than enough.
The enemy’s numbers were staggering, and she knew their warlords were all in the building. They were calling all their troops now, sensing the end was near. The perimeter was falling, the corvettes unable to help because of lack of numbers.
They knew her shepherd was inside now, and they were coming to kill him.
Caesar’s group had had to retreat. They were still alive, although the AllMother sensed the giant’s fatigue. His nanotech was healing him, although he was mostly just exhausted from being the brute force. The young man had taken a shoulder hit.
Relm was the only one not hurt, but the AllMother knew he was tired.
She w
asn’t what she once was, but the old woman was doing what she could.
As they retreated deeper into the building, the enemies now too many to fight head-on, she opened doors and then held them shut as long as possible. The nanotech did its work, and it gave them time for a few breaths.
Eventually, though, the hordes broke through.
The AllMother used everything in her arsenal to assist. Lighting fixtures fell from ceilings, killing or paralyzing those beneath. Chairs and desks flew at high speeds and pulverized bone when they made contact.
Servia worked next to her. Jeeves’ voice constantly gave them new information.
“Perimeter down to forty percent. Estimated time before collapse ten minutes.”
Servia leaned forward on the table. “There’s too many.”
The AllMother wanted to weep from exhaustion. She looked at her daughter and placed a hand on her shoulder. “He’s going to deliver us. Keep going.”
Servia gazed at her with desperation on her face.
The AllMother staggered away from the table, her hand falling from Servia’s shoulder.
Servia whipped around to grab the woman, but it was too late. The AllMother hit the floor. Servia was over her in a second, but the AllMother’s face made her stop.
It was Prometheus’ mind.
He’d found the shepherd.
He would deliver them, or they would die right here, right now. Nothing else mattered.
With the last of her strength, she sent a message to the other three warriors.
To the roof. All of you.
Only Caesar’s strength kept him on his feet.
The two humans first stumbled and then fell to the floor. Relm was on his ass, Brillin on all fours.
Caesar’s monument was great, but even the great warrior understood futility. They couldn’t kill them all.
He’d fought, watching things he didn’t understand happen around him. It was like Prometheus was in the room, or his mind was. Doors had opened and then held the enemy, giving them much-needed healing time. All kinds of things flew across the room, killing the soldiers.
There’d been no time to think, only to be grateful and continue fighting.
Caesar was bent over, hands on his knees. He looked to his left and saw the enemy also either on the floor or bent over.
Caesar had never experienced anything like that, but he knew the message’s sender. Somehow her voice had been in his mind—the AllMother.
To the roof. All of you.
Pro was covering the top, and that meant he was on the roof. Caesar straightened, hooking his sabers while rushing to the humans. He picked each up with one arm, grabbing the collars of their armor, then put them on their feet.
For a creature who didn’t strategize, he made a quick decision. “You won’t make it on the stairs. Take the elevator. I’ll keep them at bay and meet you up there.”
Brillin said nothing, still in a daze.
The enemy was slowly regaining their feet. If Caesar didn’t give the elevator time, these hybrids could rip through the door and get to the power line, ending any chance that they’d make it up.
Caesar took another step to the far wall and slapped the elevator’s panel. There were no numbers to give the floors because the thing moved too fast. Caesar had ridden it many times over the months.
He returned to the humans, his eyes on the confused enemy. They were trying to understand what had happened and what that message meant.
Relm’s faceplate drew back. “It was an honor.”
“I will meet you up there,” the giant growled.
The elevator door dinged and opened.
“Now go!” Caesar picked them up again and tossed them in. They hit the opposite wall. Relm’s faceplate was still open, and a wild grin was plastered on his face. He raised his MechPulse and made a mock shot at the gigante.
The door shut.
Caesar turned.
Smart words were for Relm and Prometheus. They dealt in language.
The giant pulled the sabers off his belt, and the green lasers came to life.
Caesar dealt in blood.
He went forth again, and indeed, blood was spilled.
Prometheus stood.
The woman had courage since she didn’t flee. She stood at the other end of the tunnel and pulled something Prometheus had never seen from her belt. She strapped it onto her hand, and he got a better look.
There was a black circular pad on her palm and a single strap going around the back of her hand.
She reached down to her belt again and pulled a second pad off, strapping it to the opposite hand.
“Obs, to Nero!” Pro shouted so the animal could hear him.
A few screams, then movement as the huge drathe created a path through the enemy, Thoreaux following on his heels.
The battle had stopped. Perhaps it was out of awe, or perhaps respect for their queen. Maybe it was a cultural thing with these ice people and creatures. Prometheus didn’t know and didn’t care.
He hooked his Whip to his belt and took off his helmet.
“You have two decisions to make, Queen. The first is, you can surrender and save your family, or you can fight and die.”
“That’s no choice,” she called back. “My people are made from ice. We don’t know how to bend the knee. The godsdamn ice is too cold.”
He nodded and started retracting his armor, revealing clothing and bare skin.
He detached the leg armor, the arms, and finally the torso. He tossed it all on the roof.
“The second decision is for your people up here. I can toss them all off right now, or they can stand back and watch this fight. If they interfere at any time, every one of them falls.”
The queen scanned the roof. The dead were everywhere. It was almost impossible not to stand on them. The living stared at her, waiting for her decision.
Luna’s voice came next. These people love this woman like yours do you, Allie. They’ll die for her right now if she says so.
“They won’t interfere,” the Ice Queen said. “My family and slaves, retreat to the edge of the roof.”
Movement was immediate. Every single enemy obeyed the woman’s orders without a thought.
Only the dead remained.
Prometheus knelt by his armor and pulled his Whip from the belt. He looked around at the bodies. Were they so different than his people? Those at the perimeter who had followed his orders, knowing they would most likely die? No, they weren’t.
“You all deserved better,” he whispered.
His mind spread across the roof. He was as gentle as he could be, moving the dead bodies, clearing the deck for this battle.
He laid them in front of their comrades. Still kneeling, he looked over his shoulder. “Obs, to me.”
The drathe walked forward, his huge body higher than his master’s head. “Love you, ya dumb dog. Whatever happens, keep the other two alive until this is over. None of you interfere.”
Obs, unable to let the slight go, grabbed his master’s shoulder. He gave it one playful bite, then bit down again. Hard. Prometheus gasped but didn’t pull back.
The animal was covered in blood, but he brought his head down and rubbed his master’s blood first on the left side of his face, then the right. He met Pro’s eyes.
“See it and die,” Pro said.
He rose to his feet.
The woman in front of him clapped her hands together and the pads hardened, turning into solid discs.
The warriors stared at each other, knowing their lives were all that kept their families from being destroyed. Both were ready to die on this roof.
A thought from Alistair moved through the shared mind. She’s not so different from me.
Prometheus shut it down. She brought the fight here. The god who brought fire requires a tax for war. She’s going to pay it.
The Whip unfurled, its three lasers lazily twisting next to their owner’s leg.
The Ice Queen moved first, beginning to
circle.
Prometheus stepped forward, closing the gap. He would use none of his mind’s ability on this woman. She would face only his body.
Cristin continued circling as Pro closed the gap between them.
At three meters, she attacked.
Lunging as he had to create the tunnel, she thrust both hands forward. A blue blast shot from them—not a laser, not plasma, but something entirely new. Prometheus barely had time to register the blue ball barreling toward him.
He twirled easily to his left, and the blast missed him by millimeters. He glanced to where the ball should have been, but it had dissipated.
When he looked back, another was flying toward him. This time his spin wasn’t fast enough. The blue caught his shoulder and latched on like it was alive.
The burn was immediate and excruciating.
The stuff started spreading, multiplying as it latched onto more of his skin.
Another was coming for him. Prometheus had only one choice; he fell back, dropping his Whip to grab the blue substance. He ripped it off his body and tossed it into the air, but even as he did it, the thing didn’t stop trying to latch onto his hand.
It dissipated in the air, but there wasn’t time to consider anything else. Two more blasts were heading toward him.
He rolled, grabbing his Whip, and watched as the blue substance turned liquid when it hit the roof next to him, burning it as it had him.
His shoulder felt like fire was still burning across it.
Prometheus reached his feet as another blast hit him, this time his leg. The fire-like pain erupted there. Pro reached down before the stuff could spread and tossed it away.
Another blast, and another.
Prometheus dodged the first and swung his Whip at the second.
The stuff latched onto the lasers, putting them out in spots.
Too much was happening for him to even look at the woman or where she was moving. He killed the Whip, immediately bringing it back to life. The lasers were normal, the blue substance gone.
His mind kept calculating even as his body reacted to the never-ending shots. Another hit his right arm, and another his left calf. His body was now that of a burn victim, and he couldn’t close the gap.
