by J. N. Chaney
“Had to have been last night,” Jezra said. “That would be my guess at least. I have the low-flying satellite maintaining a strict patrol around the Orion. My guess is that Legion is making a move on the Rung. That’s why we haven’t seen him for so long.”
“Good,” I said, feeling no compunction that the hostile alien faction was getting their butts handed to them. “They shot Ricky and killed the exploration group that went that way searching for the section of the Orion that held the communications device. We still don’t even know if we can get it operational again. Doctor Wong’s been working on it ever since we brought it back.”
“So you’re just going to let the Rung and Legion wipe each other out?” Stacy asked, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “Let the animals kill each other off, huh?”
“God willing,” I said, nodding. Maybe I should have felt a bit of remorse at the death of so many, but the simple fact was, I didn’t. “Hopefully, they’ll all kill each other. Then we can turn all our attention to rescuing any of our own still out there and getting off this planet.”
Stacy looked over to Jezra for support.
Jezra’s large yellow eyes behind her goggles winced as if she were having some kind of head pain.
“You okay?” I asked. “You look like you have a migraine or something.”
“That’s just what my face looks like when I am in intense concentration,” Jezra explained. “I have no love for the Rung. They have been the enemy of my people since I was in the egg. However, they may be able to be reasoned with. Legion exists only to spread and kill. One is bad while the other is pure evil.”
“What?” I asked, taken aback. “You want to side with the Rung now?”
“I didn’t say that,” Jezra denied. She reached a three-fingered green hand to my face and slapped me. At least I thought it was supposed to be a slap. She barely touched me, and her palm made contact with my face like she had never slapped anyone in her life, so I wasn’t sure. “Listen to me. We may be in a situation here where the enemy of our enemy is our friend.”
“Where have the Rung chosen to hide?” Stacy asked, trying not to laugh at the exchange. I rolled my eyes at her and clutched my face in an exaggerated manner when Jezra turned to her, pretending the slap had actually hurt. “Can you get a visual on their base from the satellite?”
“They seem to have gone underground,” Jezra said, taking back the data pad and pressing buttons on the smooth glass surface. “I have not been able to find the exact entrances to their underground bases, but I do believe they have multiple entry points. With the satellite patrolling this section of Genesis, I should pick up their activity and movement in the course of a few days and be able to find their location.”
“You’re not serious about this, are you?” I asked Stacy.
“What? I didn’t even say anything,” she answered defensively.
“You don’t have to,” I accused. “I know that look. You want to team up with the Rung to take out Legion.”
Stacy chewed on her lower lip, deep in thought. I wasn’t angry if that was indeed what she was thinking. Stacy carried a large responsibility as leader of our defenses and what remained of the Civil Authority. I didn’t envy her and I knew the toll it had taken on her, even if she wasn’t showing it like I was, with gray in her hair or wrinkles around her eyes and mouth.
“I’m keeping my options open,” she finally said. “We need to talk to Elon and—we need to talk to Elon about this.”
“Right,” I said, hearing everything Stacy wasn’t saying. Arun, Elon’s older sister, wasn’t herself these days. The Legion virus had infected her during our race to the walls with Jezra and the supplies. Thanks to her Eternal healing powers, the virus hadn’t totally taken over her body. It was like a war raged inside her around the clock. As such, she was always tired, sometimes delirious, calling out odd, random things about the crash of the Orion, Maksim, and others that no one could decipher. Elon was understandably very concerned about Arun, but there was no cure except to maybe let time take its course. The most we could hope for was that her healing powers would win out.
“I’ll call a meeting tonight,” Stacy said, motioning for Jezra to follow. “I’d like to take a closer look at those images you showed us. Maybe we can find out more if we study them further.”
Jezra nodded and moved to go with Stacy.
“Wait. If we take the fight to Legion with the help of the Rung, what happens to that second prophecy that woke you out of your hyper sleep?” I asked Jezra. “You said the Orion would fall.”
Jezra blinked at me a few times with those large reptilian eyes of hers. “And it still may. There are many things to be considered. The sands of time have not given us a free pass as of yet.”
With that less than helpful piece of mumbo jumbo, the pair turned and left.
I shook my head. I was liable to give myself a headache if I tried to figure out Jezra and her prophecies. Too many years awake on her own with no one to communicate with had made her a bit loopy in my opinion.
I turned back to look over the wall. My head buzzed with the thoughts of joining forces with the Rung. It left a bad taste in my mouth. I didn’t even have a clue as to how we would accomplish such a thing if it were possible. Would the Rung want to team up with us in the first place? It occurred to me that this must be what Stacy had been thinking and regretted giving her flak about it.
“Help!” a scream rang out somewhere in the center of the compound. “Help! Someone help!”
I turned, looking down into the enclosed area of the Orion. Our wall made a large U shape around the exposed end of the colony seed ship. Inside was a city of tents where most of the colonists had chosen to live instead of trying to stay inside the ship that rested on its side.
“Someone help him!” the voice came again, sounding more frantic. It was a man’s voice, though not one I recognized.
Adrenaline lent aid to my movement and I grabbed the rifle, slinging it over my shoulder as I took off to investigate. My feet pounded down the catwalk and to the black stairs that led to the ground below.
I wove through our tent city rapidly as colonists emerged and looked to me for direction. Others followed the sounds of cries for help.
Rounding a final tent near the south wall, I found a figure hunched over on the ground. Mutt growled down at him.
It wasn’t the figure that was doing the yelling. Instead, one of the Orion survivors was pointing at Mutt apprehensively, yelling for help. He was clearly too frightened himself to try and intervene between the two beings.
Mutt was a genetically engineered canine. As such, he was perfect in every way. Massive in size and powerfully muscled from head to paw, the dog’s head came above my waist when he stood normally, and taller than me if he stood on his hind legs.
I’d only seen him act like this a handful of times before and it was always for good reason. The giant wolf dog’s hackles raised on his back and his ears were flattened against the sides of his head. Mutt would take a bite out of this guy if I didn’t intervene.
“Hey, easy, easy,” I said, grabbing Mutt by the extra skin at the scruff of his neck. “It’s okay, boy. I’m here.”
Mutt tensed under my hold. We were making a scene as more and more survivors from the Orion crash came to see what was causing the disturbance.
I still couldn’t clearly see who Mutt had cornered. Whoever it was wore a deep red coat that was stained from the elements.
“He’s not going to bite you,” I said to the hunched over and presumably terrified figure. “I’ve got a hold of him.”
Alarms went off in my mind when the figure refused to respond or turn to show their face.
I shouldered my weapon and reached out with my free hand to grab a handful of the cloak of the figure in front of me. I pulled hard enough to have their head swing around and instantly recoiled, already going for my weapon again as my hand came back and they stood. It was a Remboshi in front of me. Not one like Tong and Jezr
a. This one was taller with a cybernetic eye and metal left hand. It wasn’t a Remboshi, but rather a member of the Rung.
His presence in our camp caught me off guard enough that I had missed the weapon in his hands. He lifted an arm and leveled the blaster at my face.
2
Dozens of questions crashed like waves through my mind. The foremost was, how had he gotten inside our walls undetected? My hand was on my rifle, but I wasn’t able to draw it, at least not before he’d get a shot off.
I could feel a deep rumbling coming from Mutt, vibrating his whole body. His muscles quivered under my hand. I could tell he was prepared to pounce on my go. Relief fluttered through me that the Rung had not shot him, and I wanted to keep it that way. I kept my hand on him, hoping he would stay calm and by my side.
Gasps and screams came from everyone around us as they called for help from the Civil Authority Officers working the wall. Over the last month, Stacy had taken it upon herself to train recruits and arm them with the latest and greatest Remboshi tech from the Cerberus Installation.
The Rung in front of me was skinnier than I was, but that didn’t mean he was any less deadly. His thick tail stuck straight up behind him. It was strong and muscular-looking, as if it could take out someone with a good swipe. He eyed me with his one green eye and his one cybernetic eye that shone red. He moved to look at Mutt, uncertain of his next actions.
My heart was racing a mile a minute. Still, one thing spoke to me above all others. He hadn’t killed me, yet. He had me dead to rights. Still, he had refused to pull the trigger. Something was up.
“Listen,” I started. “I’m not sure if you can understand me, but there’s no way out of here. You shoot me and this dog will tear you apart from limb to cybernetic limb. If he doesn’t kill you, then the Civil Authority Officers who are on their way will.”
As if to emphasize my words, heavy footfalls from a pair of Civil Authority Officers, or suits, as we called them, could be heard rounding the corner. I saw them out of my peripheral vision but didn’t turn to see who the pair were.
The Rung in front of me didn’t look like he knew what I was saying, but he understood the predicament he was in. Instead of lifting his weapon, he lowered it to a holder on his right side.
He lifted both hands slowly into the air, the universal sign for surrender, even here, it seemed, then gave me a toothy smile. Short, stubby teeth poked up out of his top and bottom gums.
What’s he doing? I wondered. He has to have some kind of plan here.
The Rung moved the thumb on his left hand to his middle finger and pressed a button on the black gloves he wore.
Thrusters sounded on the back of his tight-fitting suit. I let go of Mutt, lunging for the Rung as he lifted off the ground a second later.
It seemed both Mutt and I had the same idea. Mutt grabbed onto his left booted foot, crunching down with powerful jaws. I abandoned my rifle, running to him and finding two handholds on the belt the Rung wore around his waist.
Two heartbeats later, we were tearing over the tops of the tents. The Rung was too busy trying to keep airborne to deal with me and Mutt. It was obvious whatever propulsion system was hard-wired into his suit was not designed to carry three bodies as it struggled to gain altitude.
Yelling and shouting from below took a back seat to what I was focusing on now. My hands were full as I tried to climb up the Rung’s body. I needed to take control of the thruster on his back via the control system he used on his hand.
Mutt fell a second later, taking the Rung’s boot with him in his jaws. The dog crashed into a tent not even a foot below us, seemingly all right. Without his extra weight, the thruster propelled us higher into the air and I held on for dear life.
Trying to fend me off and maneuver the thrusters was proving too difficult for my opponent. We careened into tents, the side of the wall, and even slammed into one of the two watchtowers that flanked the main gate before sliding across the catwalk.
If nothing else, I was stubborn. One hand clinging to his belt, I tried to work my way up to his right arm, where he controlled or at least tried to control our trajectory.
The Rung was getting annoyed with my tenacious hold on his person. Thus far, he hadn’t struck out at me, but it seemed he had had enough. It was just my luck that his free hand was made of cold, hard metal.
He hit me, opening a painful cut above my right eye. Warm blood oozed into my vision. When he came at me again with the hammer fist, I changed my grip. Holding on to his belt with my left hand, I caught his fist with my right.
I had no idea where we were, thanks to the swirling topsy-turvy motion of the thrusters. All I knew was that we were still inside the Orion wall, or so I hoped.
I saw him right before he leapt off the catwalk. Boss Creed was either a genius or a mad man, maybe a bit of both. He must have seen us heading toward the wall, gaining altitude faster since Mutt had fallen off.
He timed his jump just right. Boss Creed sailed over the catwalk that circled the inside of the gate like some kind of gymnast, grabbing onto us both.
The other man’s weight proved too much for the power of the thrusters, which were obviously made for one occupant. As one, the three of us fell from the sky, slamming into the hard ground underneath us.
I was the lucky one on the bottom, cushioning the falls of the Rung and Boss Creed, who knocked the wind out of my chest when they both landed on me. While the Rung couldn’t weigh more than a hundred and thirty pounds, Boss Creed most likely was double that and I’d felt a sickening crunch come from my left shoulder when we landed.
Pain shot through my shoulder and down my arm and I had the absurd urge to laugh. It really was no laughing matter and it felt like broken glass had been shoved into my rotator cuff right through to the bone.
Boss Creed and the Rung recovered before I did. They battled on the dirt ground next to me as I tried to focus past the agony and get back to my feet, sucking air in to get through the pain.
This isn’t going to kill you, I coached myself in my head. Back up, get back on your feet.
Too stubborn to do anything else, I regained my footing. I could feel blood flowing freely from the cut above my eye and my left arm was useless from the shoulder down. I had dislocated it once before, years ago in the gladiator pit when I fought Harry “The Hammer” Rycker. The pain was the same sensation all over again, needles and pins, really big ones.
Lucky for me, Boss Creed had the Rung pinned on the ground, his whole body stretched across the much smaller being, his right side concentrated on pinning down that cybernetic hand. Seconds later, Mutt, Stacy, and a group of suits were on the alien as well.
Following them, a horde of worried Orion survivors looked to one another for direction. I felt bad for the mass of onlookers, as most of them had bought into this whole venture to find a new and better life, not constantly go up against the danger the crash had subjected them to.
“Are we being attacked?” I picked up a voice in the crowd.
“Is it the aliens or Legion?” another voice asked.
I ignored them both and looked for something to press my shoulder against. I needed get it back into its socket.
“Hey, you okay?” Ricky’s familiar and welcome voice cut through everything else. “You don’t look so good.”
“Yeah,” I gasped, wincing. “I just need you to pop my shoulder back into place.”
“Your what?” Ricky looked me up and down, uncertainty evident on his face. “Dean, I don’t know if I’m qualified for that. I’ll go get the doc and—”
“Ricky!” I growled. “You can do this, brother. I’ll walk you through it. But it needs to be now.”
“Okay, okay.” Ricky took a tentative step forward. “What do you want me to do?”
“Just hold my arm and pull when I tell you,” I instructed through gritted teeth.
“Okay, yeah, just hold the arm,” Ricky said, walking himself through the action and looking a little green. “I can do tha
t, sure. Just hold the arm.”
He grabbed my forearm, and I braced myself for the pain I was about to feel.
“Pull!” I shouted, jerking my torso back at the same time. A loud pop brought a fresh wave of discomfort and pain, but it only lasted for a second.
Ricky dropped my arm, shaking his head as he did so. “You’re a wild man, Dean. What happened here?”
“Mutt cornered a Rung spy,” I said, rotating my arm and nodding over to where Boss Creed and Stacy still had the Rung pinned down. “At least, that’s what I think he is. I didn’t know how he got over the wall until he took me for a ride. Must have used that jetpack sometime during the night to get over.”
While the suits in the area tried to maintain order by creating a perimeter under Stacy’s direction, both Tong and Jezra appeared. Tong’s eyes were narrowed with suspicion as he eyed the Rung.
Jezra actually looked pleased, which, considering her earlier words, wasn’t exactly surprising.
“We’ve got him cuffed and that jetpack he was wearing removed,” Boss Creed said, looking down at the Rung, who was now in a sitting position, his head pointed down to the ground, much as he was when we found him with Mutt guarding him. “Any idea why he’s here?”
“Any idea anyone could have as to why our guest is here would be nothing more than a guess at this point,” Jezra said, making us all scratch our heads on that one. Sometimes it was hard to tell if the alien was intentionally speaking gibberish or if she was getting her English confused. “Please, we must speak with him.”
“Not here,” Stacy said, rejoining the group. She looked meaningfully at the crowd of Orion colonists gathered to see what was going on. “Somewhere inside the Orion or a tent.”
“Agreed,” Tong said, finally realizing that she didn’t want the colonists to panic.
Stacy and Boss Creed helped the Rung to his feet. They marched him through the camp toward the command tent that had previously been used by Arun.
