by Ren Hamilton
“I know.” He circled the bed as he examined Preet. “It’s a lot to digest. I’m really glad they brought you in, Juliet.”
“Lucky me,” she said. “I think.”
“You all right?”
She smiled slightly. “I’ll be okay.”
“So how is he?” Litner stared down at the being’s face, relaxed in sleep. Now that he wasn’t writhing, sobbing, and covered in blood, his beauty was evident. Black lashes reached all the way to his high cheekbones, lips full, jaw thick and strong. He was more masculine looking than Shep and his brothers, but there was an ethereal quality nonetheless. The hair was parted somewhat crookedly in the center, silken waves loose and extremely long. His body was muscular and tall, skin a deep brown, unnaturally smooth and perfect.
Juliet rounded the bed to stand beside Litner. “His back wounds have been tended, but frankly I doubt we needed to.”
“Why?”
“He had a split lip when he was first brought in.” Litner recalled Shep punching the creature in the face, the trickle of blood on his chin. “But by the time I got around to it, it had healed already.”
Litner leaned closer, examining Preet’s mouth. The skin was smooth and unmarked by injury. Suddenly his blue eyes opened, and both Litner and Dr. Wang jumped back. Opening his mouth, the creature took in a gasp of air, eyes shifting as he tried to sit up.
“Juliet?” Litner kept his voice steady. “I wasn’t ready to wake him yet. I need Shep here for that.”
“Oh, shit,” Juliet said, running toward a nearby cabinet. “I thought he was knocked out good, hang on.”
“Just do it fast,” Litner said, backing away from the bed. “He doesn’t look happy.”
Luminescent blue eyes finding Litner, the creature bared his teeth. Looking down, he tore the bed sheet back, examining himself with a grimace. “Plefarr. Flar tujace,” he said with a tone of disgust, then looked at Litner again. “Flar tujace, swolta!”
“It’s all right,” Litner said, showing his palms. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
Juliet approached with a syringe. The creature turned his head of flowing hair, saw the needle in her hand, and cried out, “No!” Though he did not touch her, the syringe flew from Juliet’s hand, clattering on the floor. She stepped back, holding her hands up.
“Okaaay,” she said. “Steven? I could use some of your tough guy expertise about now.”
The creature’s wings fanned out to the sides with a swoosh, and he turned toward Litner, dangling his legs off the edge of the bed. “Just take it easy,” Litner said. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal, you should probably rest more.”
“Let...me...OUT,” he said, and tried to dive for Litner. As soon as he was on his feet, his legs gave out and he fell to the floor, howling a frustrated cry.
“You’re going to have to learn to use your legs,” Litner offered, keeping his voice calm and steady. “You’re in a foreign atmosphere with a foreign body, you just need a little time.” His gaze flicked to Juliet. “We all need a little more time.”
Juliet backed up slowly, heading to the medical cabinet again.
Pushing himself up on his arms, Preet glared at Litner through a fan of long hair. His eyes were dark blue, but something about them was unusual, reflective. “I do not care to...need…” He paused, seeming to struggle with the words. His voice was very deep. “I do not need to learn,” he said. “When The Light comes to retrieve me...this flesh will be shed.”
“I’m sure that will happen,” Litner lied. “But until then, we can try to make you comfortable.”
He stared at Litner for nearly half a minute, and Litner had to admit he was getting a bit nervous. He could have been imagining it, but he thought he felt a wisp of something brush against him, like someone dragged a handkerchief over the top of his head. Preet pulled himself up into a sitting position. Flexing his hand, he slowly bent his fingers, forming a point. When he seemed satisfied, he turned that finger, aiming it at Litner. “You lie.” He shook his head. “You lie.”
The door opened and Agent Michaels stepped in with Tyler Palumbo, the young, lean soldier a contrast to the larger man. They both stopped short when they saw Preet sitting on the floor. Michaels pulled out his gun. “What’s going on? Why is he not sedated?”
Litner turned to his boss. “Our guest appears to have some unique attributes.”
Preet’s eyes shifted to Agent Michaels. “Are you going to shoot me with that knife?”
Michaels frowned. “He speaks.”
“Yes. I have a feeling he speaks a lot of languages,” Litner said. “Don’t you, Preet?”
His big head turned to Litner. “Who gave you my name?” When Litner didn’t answer, his expression darkened. “You are in league with Zirub. When The Light comes for me, I will see that you die alongside him.”
Michaels whispered something to Palumbo and he turned to leave the room. When he opened the door, the knob slipped from his hand as it slammed closed again. The soldier whirled around, panic in his eyes.
“What is a...dart gun?” Preet asked Agent Michaels.
Michaels let out a breath. “You have very good hearing.”
“I’m not in league with Zirub,” Litner said, trying to distract him. “In fact, I despise him. I needed his help to stop you from killing any more of our people.”
Preet raised his eyebrows. “Your people?”
“You were killing human beings. It’s against our laws, and we deem murder to be morally unacceptable.”
“You lied,” he said. “About The Light coming back for me. There was deceit in your mind. Why?”
“I suppose I was thinking of Shep. I mean, Zirub. He was abandoned here. The Light never came for him.”
“I am not Zirub!” he shouted. “He is a snake, dirty and slithering in his own excrement.”
“Of course. You’re very different,” Litner said. In his peripheral vision, Juliet stepped slowly toward them, a syringe in her hand.
Preet raised himself onto his feet. Wobbling, he grabbed the bed to steady himself, then turned to Litner again. “The Light hasn’t come for me yet because I have not completed my mission. But I will.”
“So it was The Light that sent you?”
His expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of doubt. “He said the order came from The Light. I believe him.”
“Who said that?”
“Not your concern who.”
“Does he, whoever he is, plan to send more assassins?”
He grinned. “No. I am more than enough. Zirub may have drained me of Light. But he did not drain me of power.”
Litner and Michaels exchanged a worried glance.
In a blur of movement, Juliet rounded the bed and jammed the needle into Preet’s neck. He howled and batted her away with a strong arm, her body flying back onto the bed. Litner lunged forward but was immediately thrown back, as though hitting an invisible wall. Jesus Christ, this guy is powerful. We’re fucking screwed, he thought as he fell onto his back on the floor.
A shot rang out and Preet roared like a lion.
Tiles splintered and fell from the ceiling, and Litner knew Michaels had fired a warning shot—he was an excellent marksman; if he’d wanted to hit Preet, he would have.
“Next shot goes through your flesh, Preet,” Michaels said. “So stop what you—”
Michaels fell silent, then Tyler was screaming.
Litner climbed to his feet, a sharp pain lancing his lower back. He saw Preet stumble. Whatever Juliet had given him seemed to be taking effect, and his legs gave out. He clung to the bed for a moment, then crumpled to the floor, eyes closed.
The room seemed to swirl as Litner looked to his right. What he saw dizzied him, a wave of shock overtaking his body in an instant, his mind trying to shut it out. In his peripheral vision, Juliet ran toward him in what seemed like slow motion. “Steven, don’t look,” she said, but her words sounded far away.
Tyler’s hoarse screams continued.
He slipped again and fell onto Michaels’ body, his eyes inches from the ruined remains of his head, chunks of brain and bone fragments glistening. Hands pulled him off the body, then arms wrapped around him from behind as Juliet spoke soothingly in his ear. “Come on,” she said. “Come on, we have to call for help, Steven. Let’s get you out of this room.”
Tiny specs of light danced before his eyes, and he became aware that he’d begun hyperventilating. He looked back at the unconscious creature on the floor, lying like a sleeping giant. Then the room faded, faded, and went dark.
Chapter Ten
Litner sat on a conference room chair, hugging a cup of tea. He looked up when the door opened. It was Garret Upton, the soldier that had been on guard before. “I thought your shift was over,” Litner said, still shivering.
Upton approached, his face tight with sadness. “I got called back in. Are you all right?”
Litner nodded, though he wasn’t all right at all. “How many did Michaels assign to this team? Feels like there should be more of you, considering what you’re guarding here.”
“Yeah.” Upton sighed, looking nervous. “There are only five of us. Michaels wanted to keep the circle small. He’d asked us to help with the Cripulet project, so he called us in for this. It’s me, Tyler Palumbo, Elijah Hughes, Wendy Prescott, and of course Dr. Wang. Michaels has been operating privately, without supervision since he decided to try opening the Cripulet.”
Litner looked up. “What?”
“Michaels request to try opening the Cripulet was turned down. Michaels did it anyway, on his own time, with a hand-picked team. Not sure if you knew that. He thought it was best.”
Litner huffed softly. “That explains a lot.” He glanced at Upton. “So you’re nothing but soldiers for hire.”
“We’re good at what we do, Agent Litner. And you can trust us.”
Litner shook his head. “And Michaels bitched at me for withholding information.”
Upton chuckled. “Yeah. Agent Litner, um, he’s here.”
Litner looked up. “Show him in.”
He nodded and turned to leave.
“And Garret, don’t bring him in with a gun to his back.”
The soldier turned around. “But sir—”
“No guns on him.”
“Is that an order?” he asked, chin stiff with displeasure. “Michaels didn’t trust their kind. With good reason, clearly. Shepherd is one of them.”
“It’s a request, not an order.” Litner frowned. “You don’t report to me.”
“I do now. Michaels left orders that if anything happened to him, all decisions fell to you.”
Litner scowled. “That makes no sense. He didn’t trust me.”
Garret Upton’s freckled face flushed. “I’m afraid he did, sir. Very much. And I’m afraid you’re in charge now.”
Litner turned away, taking a sip of his tea. “I don’t want to be in charge. I didn’t agree with this project from the start. Even before I knew Michaels had gone rogue.”
“But you were there. In the cave,” Upton said.
“I was there to try and stop it. I wish Michaels had listened to me then.”
“But sir. Michaels said it was you who gave him the knowledge on how to open the Cripulet.”
“I didn’t give it to him. He stole it. The only reason I told him about the Cripulet at all is because I knew…or rather I thought he’d never guess how to open it. I opposed this from the start.” He glanced at Upton. “And with good reason, clearly. I sure as hell didn’t want to be in charge of this shit show.”
“But you have the most knowledge about...them.”
Litner sighed. “All right. Go get him, then.”
The soldier left and Litner stared into his teacup, trying to block the image of Michaels’ savaged body from his mind. The creature, Preet, had been moved to a more secure holding cell. He only hoped it was secure enough. His sedation dosage had been increased, but they were all on edge. How the hell was he supposed to keep control of something that could shatter a man’s head with his mind from ten feet away? Once again, he was about to ask his greatest enemy for help—someone who could also shatter a man’s head with his mind from ten feet away.
But with this one, there was a temporary truce. Litner didn’t trust Shep any more than Upton did. He simply needed him.
The door opened and Garret led Shep in. Litner nodded. “You can wait outside.”
“Yes, sir.”
Garret left and Shep rounded the table, sitting across from him. He wore a long-sleeved tie dye tee shirt with a spiral of dancing bears in the center. Litner’s eyes lingered on the colors as Shep drummed his fingers on the table. “You look like shit, Litner.”
Litner nodded.
“I’m sorry about your boss.”
“Preet said he was given a mission by someone, but wouldn’t say who,” Litner said. “He called it a ‘he’ and said they told him it was an order from The Light. He’s hard to read, but I sensed he was doubting that now.”
“His orders didn’t come from The Light.” Shep shook his head. “They lied to him. They lie to everyone.”
“You think this was the work of your superiors. The ones you’re at odds with.”
“Yes.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I can’t be sure it’s my superiors, I only suspect. But I can be sure this isn’t the work of The Light. If The Light had arranged this, Preet wouldn’t have had to come through the Cripulet. He would have just...come through anywhere.”
“How would they have known to send him at the exact moment we opened it?”
“I don’t think the timing was random at all.” He steepled his fingers. “You’re gonna love this.”
Litner shook his head. “Just tell me. While I’m still in shock.”
“They have spies. Lower angels. They can see you. But you can’t see them.” Litner glanced around the room. “Oh, don’t worry,” Shep said. “I can see them. I’ve caught the little fuckers watching me many times. But there’s no one here but us now.”
“So someone alerted someone that Michaels was going to open the Cripulet, and these...entities sent an assassin through with orders to kill over sixty people.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Then we have a very big problem. And not just with Preet.”
“Maybe not.” Shep pursed his lips. “How many people know what Michaels knew about the Cripulet?”
“Not many,” Litner said. “Small team. And they’re professionals, they won’t talk.”
“There are thousands of Cripulets on this planet, Agent Litner. But Pearl Chasm is the only one anybody involved knows about. I admire your trust in these colleagues of yours, but it’s not a risk we can take. We can’t have people knowing how to open an active Cripulet.”
Litner’s blank eyes focused. “I hope you’re not suggesting doing anything to those soldiers. They’re under my command now, and you’re not touching them.”
Shep’s mouth fell open. “Wow. You really do think the worst of me, don’t you?”
“Can you blame me?”
“I wasn’t even considering that, you douche. I meant that the cave at Pearl Chasm will have to be leveled. Leave nothing but dust. Destroy the Cripulet.”
“Oh. Yes, that’s a far easier solution. Good thinking,” he said. “I should have thought of that myself.”
“Don’t worry about it. You’ve had a shock, you’re not at your best.”
“Can’t they come through one of the other ones? Send another assassin?”
“Not unless some human numpty figures out it’s a Cripulet, and most people don’t even
know such things exist. Then that human numpty would also have to figure out the key to opening it, which is highly unlikely.”
Litner drained his teacup, running fingers over his head. “Preet claims that The Light is going to come and retrieve him once his mission is completed.”
Shep fell back in his chair, high-pitched giggles leaking from him as he held his stomach. “Oh, that’s rich. He’s so fucking naïve. He always was. Stupid, gullible Preet.”
“He’s stuck here, isn’t he?”
Shep shrugged. “Unless we kill him. Which I strongly recommend that we do. You should have listened to me and killed him last night.”
“Perhaps, but...” Litner hesitated, shocked that he was actually considering it. He’d killed in the line of duty, but he wasn’t a murderer. But the creature killed Michaels. And Coombs. And those innocent followers. And had expressed intent to kill more. Taking out Preet would be done in the line of duty. Although, thanks to Michaels, Litner was not representing his job in this matter. He was off the clock. So this truly would be an execution. A murder.
“I can see the morality cogs jamming up in your brain, Litner. But if he’s this strong already, you may not be able to hold him forever, no matter how many drugs you pump into him,” Shep said. “It took me weeks to get my strength back when I came through into this world. Preet’s been here one day and he’s already lethal.”
“Why is he so strong?” Litner asked. “Was he more powerful than you in...the other place?”
Shep shook his head. “No. It must be whatever they did to make him an assassin. His enhancements. For a Power to come through a Cripulet without instantly being made flesh means he had some serious armor on him. We took his light and made him flesh, but he’s not a Power anymore. I felt it in the hotel room, even after we drained him. He has a unique energy signature. He’s something more now. All brawn and no brain, but he’s dangerous.”
“Will bullets kill him now that he’s flesh?”
“If we can get bullets into him before he melts the guns…or the shooters. This can’t be a combat situation. It has to be an execution.”
“I suppose we could cut off his head. Seems fitting.”
