A Subtle War

by Tim Marquitz

  “Oh no you don’t,” Taj snarled, trying to watch both of them as they walked away in different directions.

  “Incoming!” Dent called out.

  Once more Cabe whipped her away from Warpath, its massive fist digging a hole in the sand where they’d been moments before.

  “I get that you’re angry, but I could really use your help right now or we’re gonna get squished,” Cabe pleaded, motioning toward the steel goliath who just kept marching toward them.

  “Fine,” she replied, snorting as she waved to Lina to get her attention, “but I’m not gonna let that scarred weasel off the hook.”

  “What do you need me to do?” the engineer asked, wisely keeping a safe distance.

  Taj and Cabe leapt away from Warpath again, and Taj found her anger had given her just a hint of an edge, and she avoided the attack easily this time around.

  “Move out of direct line of sight of the crowd and go camo-mode and follow after that little gackball,” she told Lina. “The scarred one, obviously,” she clarified. “We know where the other one will be at the end of the day.”

  “You sure?” Lina asked, then groaned when she’d realized what she’d done. “Sorry.”

  “Gacking right I’m sure,” Taj answered, not even bothering to be annoyed by the question this time.

  “What about you guys?” Lina asked as she hesitated to run off. “I don’t want to leave you alone with that metal monstrosity.”

  “I have an idea,” Taj answered.

  “I hope it’s a good one this time,” Krawg called out as Warpath took a shot at him, the Ursite barely managing to slip away this time. He yipped as he lost some fur to the automaton’s grasping hand.

  “It is,” she assured them both.

  I hope.

  She waved Lina off before she or anyone else could second guess her plan. Which was probably a good thing seeing how she hadn’t completely figured it out yet, but the vague concept of it was running around in her head desperately trying to fully hatch.

  Taj watched for a moment as Lina ran to the edge of the arena, then disappeared from view. She sighed, knowing that at least the engineer was free of the killing field for the moment, and she was glad of it.

  Now, she needed to get the rest of them clear.

  Krawg bounded away from Warpath and the automaton chased him, while Taj returned her attention to the lights and screens, wondering what she could bring down on the giant’s metal head to slow him down or take him out.

  The announcer flew by on his floating platform, and for a moment, Taj contemplated smashing him into Warpath, wondering if that would stop the behemoth or at least make its masters call their creature off to rescue the man before he got smashed.

  And then it came to her.

  She looked to the sky and grinned like a maniac.

  “You’re kind of scaring me,” Cabe muttered beside her.

  “It’s not you who should be scared,” she assured him.

  Well, maybe a little, she thought. We should probably all be a little scared right now.

  Taj willed her gun back to her hand and blasted Warpath, drawing his attention to her once more and allowing Krawg to dart away.

  “Did you really have to do that?” Cabe asked with a sigh.

  She nodded. “We need to give Dent a couple of minutes to do something,” she answered. “Follow along with me.”

  “I saw what you made Krawg do earlier,” he argued. “I’m really not sure I want to go with you. Besides, I only have one hand.” He held up his mangled hand and waved it in front of her.

  “Just shut up and come on.” She grabbed his other hand and ran off as Warpath charged at them, scooping up a handful of sand and flinging it about wildly in its fury, golden dust raining over them.

  “Can you reach the other you aboard the ship?” Taj asked Dent.

  “I can,” he came back. “What do you want me to do?”

  Taj and Cabe avoided Warpath once again and shot back between his legs, then reversed directions halfway through the maneuver and ran back the way they’d come. The automaton spun about and paused as it tried to determine where its targets had gone.

  “Can you multi-task?” Taj asked the AI a second later.

  Dent scoffed. “I’ll have you know that I am—”

  “A simple yes will suffice,” she barked, no patience for his long-winded explanations as to his capabilities.

  “Yes, I can multi-task,” he answered, sighing. “No one appreciates the ability of a high-end AI such as myself,” he complained, more to himself than anyone else, especially since no one was really listening.

  “Good,” Taj answered, “then this is what I need both of you to do.”

  “We’re both the same person, so you know,” Dent told her.

  She ignored him and explained what she needed of him while she and Cabe led Warpath on a merry chase, each blow getting closer as they tired more and more.

  After several minutes of keeping the giant occupied, Cabe tripped and went down face-first into the sand. Taj skidded to a stop and darted back as Warpath grabbed at him. She blasted the automaton’s hand and drew his attention once again, only this time she couldn’t dart away.

  His hand closed around her, and the behemoth howled its delight at having caught her at last.

  Taj pushed her suit’s defenses to their max to keep the automaton from crushing her into pulp. Fortunately, it wanted to lord its victory over her first, and Taj wondered if the thing really was entirely mechanical. It raised her in the air and showed his prize to the crowd who, of course, roared back at the beast, encouraging it to kill Taj.

  Any time now would be perfect, she told Dent.

  This isn’t as easy as you’d think, he complained.

  Scooping me up in a bucket after all this won’t be easy either, she countered.

  She spied Cabe as he got back to his feet and fired shot after shot into the automaton’s spine, but the giant was content to ignore him and focus on Taj.

  It leaned in close and leveled one eye directly in front of her so it could look right at her. Taj shuddered in its grip, but did her best to not show the monster any fear.

  “You’ll get what’s coming to you,” she told it, forcing an edge into her voice she didn’t really feel.

  Warpath seemed to chuckle, although Taj really wasn’t sure what the sound was that it made, but it seemed amused nevertheless. It opened its mouth wide and moved to stuff her inside.

  “Now would be good!” she screamed, scrambling to hang on to keep from being chewed up and swallowed by the steel beast.

  Right then the lights all around the arena brightened, each of them giving off a whining hum as they grew brighter and brighter and brighter, blinding the audience and forcing them to turn away from the increasing brilliance.

  People gasped and cried out as the lights gave way all at once, exploding and showering the crowd with sparks and tiny pieces of glass. The crowd ducked and turned away until the shower of debris subsided.

  When they turned back, the only light illuminating the arena was that of the giant view screens. It took a moment for everyone’s eyes to adjust, and then a gasp, even larger than the one that rang out just moments earlier, filled the air so loud it drowned out every other sound for an instant.

  And there Taj stood, in the automaton’s open, upright palm, pointing her pistol at Warpath’s face.

  A smoking crater sizzled right in the middle of Warpath’s eyes, and the automaton seemed frozen in place as it came to terms with its sudden and unexpected demise.

  The automaton dropped to a knee and teetered sideways. Taj rode it down, hopping from its hand as it struck the ground with a resounding thud that echoed through the silent arena.

  A second later, the crowd erupted, screaming and howling and cheering so loud that the entire arena shook in response.

  “They…they did…did it,” the announcer muttered, appearing unable to wrap his tongue around the unthinkable.

  �
��Gacking right we did,” Taj said, walking over and joining the rest of her crew as the throng cheered all around them.

  “We should probably go,” Dent advised. “Before everyone realizes the shot that took out the automaton came from space and not from that tiny little blaster you’re still clinging to.”

  Taj couldn’t agree more. She led the crew to the shadows near the portcullis they’d entered through, aided by the lights Dent destroyed while blinding the crowd long enough to take out the automaton with the Arrant’s one gun.

  The old men at the gate triggered the mechanism that controlled the portcullis and stepped back wide-eyed as the crew marched through the opening and ran off, disappearing into the crowd and changing their appearance in rapid succession to confuse anyone watching. Once they broke free of the throng, they turned on their suits’ camo-mode and vanished among the rooftops.

  “I don’t think you realize just how much control it takes to blast an automaton in the face with a ship’s cannon and not kill everyone standing around it,” Dent said as they ran.

  Taj sighed. “Someone pat him on the back before he breaks his arm trying to do it himself.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Skol Arduin washed Grom’s blood from his hands and returned to his chambers, frustrated that he had failed to make Grom crack, as had Vetrus before him. He returned to his seat, wringing his hands as they dried.

  Grom Hadar had turned out to be far more difficult than Skol had imagined. Though Skol had known little of his background, he couldn’t have pictured the man withstanding both his and Vetrus’s attention, yet here he was, defying them both no matter how much blood he shed in the process.

  It was infuriating.

  His master’s patience was finite and time was running out, both for Alshan Ra’s plans and for Skol’s efforts.

  The appearance of what Skol believed to be Etheric Federation operatives had thrown the organization into chaos despite the short time the Furlorians had been on-planet. The failed attempts to kidnap them were black eyes on Skol’s efforts.

  He’d sent the scarred puppet, Blas, out to make contact with Alshan Ra, so perhaps the pair could coordinate and produce something more akin to success, but the master had been reluctant to get personally involved as doing so might compromise his ultimate goal.

  A goal that relied on Skol’s assurances that no outsiders, especially the Federation, would interfere with his plans.

  Unfortunately, Skol had failed to keep up his part of the bargain so far.

  “He’s here,” Vetrus told him from the doorway, interrupting Skol’s disappointed reverie.

  Skol groaned under his breath, waving the man on despite his reluctance. “Send him in, Vetrus.”

  It wasn’t Alshan Ra himself, of course, as it never was, but Skol knew well enough that Blas’s return, given Skol’s list of failures, was not a good sign.

  Alshan Ra’s would-be harbinger of doom was a pathetic creature.

  He shuffled in quietly, head down and staring at the floor with his three good eyes. The fourth, ever wayward, glared up at Skol, red and angry and full of a malevolence its master was never capable of.

  In this instance, however, Skol felt a chill skitter up his spine at seeing that scarred eye.

  Blas came over and stood before Skol’s chair, and Skol wished he had killed the man the last time he stood there. It would have been an easy thing.

  Blas was nothing, a zealot whose usefulness had long gone the way of his wandering eye. Still, Skol couldn’t help but realize just how different the man’s return was compared to when Skol had first sent him away and spared his life.

  Blas held his silence until, at last, Skol urged him to speak.

  “Tell me, Blas, did you do as I asked?”

  “I did, of course,” he answered, delivering his answer with far more confidence than Skol had expected.

  Despite it all, there was a definite tremor in his hands as he held them to his sides. Skol took solace in that.

  “I spoke with the master’s emissary. Alshan Ra feels it is time to move forward with his plans, regardless of your…uh, failed efforts—his words, forgive me—regarding the Federation agents. He has set things in motion.”

  Skol resisted the urge to jump to his feet and butcher Blas where he stood. His fury roiled in his belly, and he leaned forward to put pressure on it, to contain it as he hunched over on himself.

  He’s nothing, Skol told himself over and over in his head. He’s a messenger, nothing more.

  “Tell me, Blas,” Skol asked, “does the master have any orders for me in light of this revelation regarding my…failure?”

  Both Skol and Blas knew Blas would not live long enough to convey Skol’s attitude to their mutual master, so while Blas might feel strong enough to pass on Alshan Ra’s words verbatim, he knew they were no shield for Skol’s inevitable wrath.

  “He…he would speak with you in…in person,” Blas answered, braving the barest of glances up at Skol as if he knew the man’s thoughts about diving on top of him and slitting his throat.

  Skol sighed. “He would, would he?”

  Blas nodded. “I was told to collect you,” he managed to spit out. “Time is of the essence, as it was explained to me.”

  “That it most assuredly is, Blas,” Skol said, rising to his feet. “That it is.”

  He had the slightest flicker of satisfaction when he saw Blas flinch at his sudden movement, but the joy was fleeting.

  Much like his patience, Alshan Ra was not known for his mercy. As long as there was a distance between Skol and his master, there was a sense of security, however tenuous, but it was there, and Skol reveled in it. It was the buffer between his world and Alshan Ra’s.

  Each was the master of their own domain, and the lines of power rarely crossed. But when they did, like now, it was a sickening reminder to Skol just how delicate the balance was. Here in his world, Skol was king. He did as he wished, slept soundly and without remorse, and spent his days enjoying the moments he had.

  However, with Alshan Ra’s invitation hanging in the air, the balance had been grievously upset. Now, though Blas was simply too dense to ever realize it, the invitation he’d extended to Skol changed everything.

  With those few words uttered by an idiot tongue, Alshan Ra had debased Skol, pulled him from the top of the world and tugged him eye-level with Blas, kicking and screaming the entire way down.

  In that moment, Skol was no better than Blas.

  They were both puppets, pets to be kicked and discarded at the whims of their master.

  Like Blas, Skol was nothing.

  He sighed low enough that Blas would not hear him, and Skol left his chair behind to stand before the cowering Blas. He stared at the retch before him and, again, thought back to when he might have killed the man for his failure.

  But what difference would it make beyond a fleeting moment of satisfaction?

  If he had nothing left to him, Skol would at least clasp the certainty that, if nothing else, he held Blas’s fate in his hand in a way that Blas would never hold his.

  Skol reached out and patted Blas on the shoulder, grinning as the man flinched at his touch.

  “Take me to the master, Blas. I’m ready.”

  Blas shuffled back and turned on his heel awkwardly, marching toward the open door where Vetrus stood vigil.

  “I’m off to see Alshan Ra,” Skol told his right-hand man as he followed Blas toward the door. “You’re in charge while I’m away. Make the most of it,” he said before he left.

  Vetrus chuckled in reply.

  Unlike Blas, Vetrus knew exactly what his value was.

  You were on top of the hill until you weren’t, someone dragging you down kicking and screaming the entire way.

  And then you were gone.

  Skol followed Blas out onto the street, motioning for several of the guards stationed there to follow him.

  He knew what was coming and could accept it…to a point.

  Skol
would play his role unless there was an opportunity to change it.

  He would kick and scream as he was pulled down the hill, but he would never surrender.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The crew caught up to Lina outside of a small, rundown building in the heart of the Dulta ghetto.

  “You’re certain this is where he went?” Taj asked the engineer.

  “Absolutely,” she answered. “He wasn’t exactly difficult to follow, you know.” Lina glanced around at the crew, taking them all in for a moment as they sat there, staring at the building. “By the way, how did you all escape the arena? You never did say.”

  “You can ask Dent about that later,” Taj told her. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to tell you all about it…at length.”

  The AI huffed. “While it might not have been my idea, I played my part admirably,” he grumbled, clearly disappointed he wasn’t being allowed to brag adequately.

  Cabe held up his wounded hand and winked at Lina. “One solid punch from me was all it took,” he told her.

  Lina chuckled. “I was there when you broke it, genius,” she replied. “That’s all it took to make you whimper like a kitten.”

  “Oh yeah.” Cabe sniffed. “Well, it did hurt.”

  Lina patted his shoulder sympathetically. “Your ego most of all, I’m sure.”

  “There sure are a lot of guards around,” Taj muttered, mostly to herself as she kept watch on the squat, rundown building Lina had followed the scarred grenadier to after he’d left the arena.

  The thought of seeing him and Commander Rolkar so close and acting as if they didn’t know each other was infuriating after everything that had happened. That woman had been right on top of them from the start of the mission, and though Taj had her suspicions early on, she’d still let Rolkar manipulate them and put her people at risk.

  The first chance Taj got, she would make Rolkar pay for that. She had no doubt the woman was the reason Grom had disappeared. She was working with the zealots and had to have sold Grom out to them, just like she’d tried to sell the crew out to the hooded man and his disciples when they’d first arrived.