by Brian Mansur
Karen stared at Lilith, wondering why she would ever want that.
“Go on,” Lilith insisted. “Do it now, or we’ll make you suffer beyond anything you can imagine.”
At those words, Karen’s chest burned as though it would explode. She felt her knees give way, forcing Lilith to catch her by the arm. The metal thing in Karen’s palm fell to the floor. Her heart told her that whatever this woman had asked for, she shouldn’t be a part of it. But she was also terrified of what would happen if she disobeyed.
As Karen hesitated, Lilith snarled. “Do it now or I’ll kill Anna!”
The threat drove daggers of jagged panic into Karen’s body. Her breath surged in short, breast-heaving pulses. Her limbs seized, petrifying her like a statue. She had room in her mind for one, tormented thought that repeated over and over again. I have to take care of my sister! Whatever horrible consequences might come from doing what Lilith wanted, Karen knew she had no choice but to obey. She reached out for the needle she’d dropped.
“Empress Lilith,” a new and inhuman voice reverberated. In unison, everyone turned to the enforcer lurking in a shadowy corner by the room’s door. Karen had been so preoccupied that she hadn’t noticed the robot.
It took Lilith a beat to find her voice. “Yes, Warden?”
“Be advised. Violation of your immunity by this child will not result in punishment,” it said.
The machine fell silent. For several seconds, Karen could only hear the rush of blood in her ears and her own labored breathing. She didn’t understand what was happening: how Len had used his new command points to keep her from getting Rafe killed. Then the girl felt a sharp pain where Lilith had gripped her arm.
“Ow, ow, ow!” Karen said in increasingly urgent tones.
Lilith dug in harder with her nails. Karen looked back up and around at the woman. She saw an unbridled storm of rage in the demoness’s eyes.
The thwarted woman said, “Markem! Get her onto that table!”
Henry watched Markem yank Karen from the floor and slam the yelping girl onto a desk. In his raging irritation, Henry almost pulled his gun and shot Markem. With the goonda out of the way, it would take two seconds to put the weapon in Karen’s hand so that she could end Lilith’s life.
But killing the empress wouldn’t serve his mission. So far as he knew, she hadn’t designated a successor to her command codes. If she died, he would almost certainly lose all they had worked for. He had to bide his time until Lilith let him, or at least someone more agreeable than her, be her backup. Only then could he find a way to eliminate her. In the meantime, he had to help Lilith survive the coming attack. And that meant getting her attention back onto what mattered.
“Enough!” Henry roared.
The command’s vehemence made Markem pause while he tore at Karen’s jacket zipper. At the same time, Henry shoved him away from the girl. While Lilith asked him what he was doing, the spy gripped Karen’s arm and flung her at a corner. He scarcely noticed as she rolled into a fetal heap, sobbing and shuddering.
Henry’s voice thundered. “The Mykonians will be here in a few hours!”
Before Lilith could protest, he snapped at Markem, “Get that girl out of here, now. Take her to an internment camp. We’ll deal with her later.”
“How dare—” Lilith began.
“They’re coming for you, Lilith!” Henry said. “They will try to capture you even if it risks everyone they hold dear. And they certainly won’t let the destruction of all of your remaining colonies stop them.”
Lilith’s face contorted. “I will not be ordered by—"
“Damn you, woman!” Henry screamed. “Beat them first! Then you can do whatever the hell you want to that girl! But focus! Now!”
For ten solid seconds, the only sounds in the room were those of Karen crying and the adults heaving angry breaths. At last, Lilith said, “Markem, get her to Mumtaz’s for safe keeping. Explain that the girl is not to be touched until this is over. I want to watch when she’s broken in.”
Location: Warden orbital space lane_
While Markem hauled Karen Hastings away, Len monitored the situation through a haze of surgical torture. The Mykonians had narrowly avoided a trap they didn’t even realize had been there. He tried to make a mental note to remind them of such things when he joined them, but his downgrading brain refused to focus. He felt lucidity slipping from him. The changes grew as drastic as if a human had become an infant again, all mewling, helpless and overwhelmed.
He hurt everywhere as the machines pruned his body of extremities. His vision flickered as the Warden surgeon-bots removed another lobe. His ability to multi-scan vanished shortly after. Then they clipped the last tentacle, severing his direct link to dataflow.
With supreme effort, he concentrated his remaining mental resources onto the tactical situation. Lilith had made many errors. Chief among them, she’d attacked the Mykonians before needing to. Then she had failed to destroy the assault carrier, MSV Sorvino, and its supply consort. By good fortune, those ships had been flying a brigade of five thousand troops, along with their equipment and ammunition, to conduct exercises.
Everything was going according to plan, Len reminded himself as he wallowed in excruciating agony. The changes he’d set in motion thanks to the command points his misery bought would be worth it.
26
Location: CIC, MSV Tsunami, Lakshmi Colony_
“Final burn complete,” Claire announced. “We’re one hundred and two klicks off of Lakshmi’s shell. All docking seals holding.”
Rafe let out a gust of air as he watched the feed from a drone cam Claire had trained on the Tsunami. Cervantes’s light glinted off the ship’s sterling bow. To either side of her, a total of twelve other warships clung together like pipes in a jungle flute. Only cables, docking clamps, and precisely controlled maneuvering jets kept the hulls together. It was enough to qualify them as a single vessel protected by Rafe’s immunity. Not even Lilith’s Arbiters could target them.
Rafe toggled a key with his bulky suit glove, and the view switched to the enormous, rotating colony. At ninety degree intervals around the bleached cylinder, radiators protruded like dark sails.
Although Paulson had denied his request to task a drone from James to watch the refugees, it hadn’t mattered. The A.I. had spotted a black-haired girl in a bubble-gum pink outfit leaving Lilith’s estate. Despite the poor photo resolution, Rafe recognized his daughter in an instant. He also felt certain the man herding her to an air car was Markem.
What have they been doing to you, my darling girl? Where have they taken you? He could only guess since James hadn’t been able to track the car out of the colony segment.
Paulson’s commanding tone distracted Rafe from his morose thoughts. “Comms, signal the Sorvino. Launch.”
Within seconds, MACs full of equipment and marines jetted toward the colony. Rafe looked on with queasy anticipation.
Paulson said, “Commander Hastings.”
Rafe shook his head loose from his anxious thoughts. “Yes, ma’am.”
The captain’s voice softened. “What’s the latest from James?”
“Unchanged, ma’am. Their defenses are still concentrated at the main docking bays. Mechs are patrolling Lilith’s current location in Segment 5. Still nothing new about the refugees.”
Paulson said, “Put me on all channels.”
Rafe watched as the Tsunami’s master appeared on the CIC’s main viewer. It was time to deliver their ultimatum.
“Lakshmi,” she said, “I am Captain Serenidad Paulson, commander of the Mykonian fleet parked outside your front door. We’ve come for Empress Lilith, President Dalip and the Celesian known as Commandante Henry Wilkinson. These three have hijacked your colony and conspired to murder millions across Durga, Ganesha, and Zeus. Do not resist us when we land to apprehend them or you will be met with deadly force. We have no quarrel with Lakshmi’s citizens, but I promise, anyone who has abused our refugees will suffer.”
>
She paused to let the threat sink in, peering deeply into the camera as directly at their quarry. “Lilith, we’re coming for you.”
She touched a button on her armrest, and the transmission ended. She glanced at Rafe and held up two fingers. From across the airless CIC, he nodded. They had two hours left before his immunity ended: two hours to pile a brigade onto the colony and either capture or kill Lilith.
He prayed it would be enough.
Location: Lilith’s private estate, Lakshmi Colony
Timeframe: Half an hour into invasion operations_
Lilith stood before her monitors, letting them beam information from her empire onto her retinas. Except for Henry and the Warden enforcer, no one else remained to keep her company. She had disbursed Dalip’s generals and political cronies to other bunkers. Outside, mechs patrolled the grounds.
She noted in her messages that Markem was delayed in returning from dropping Karen off at Mumtaz’s brothel in Segment 10. Once the invasion was dealt with, Lilith looked forward to watching the child’s training. On that thought, she looked to her Celesian advisor. Henry’s flat affect told her he hadn’t quite cooled from their argument over Karen. This pleased Lilith.
No matter what she did, he needed her, if not for sex, then for her cache of weapons and the colonies she controlled. And only she could initiate Phase Three. Lilith also guessed Henry worried Natrix would blow up all the empire’s colonies if its empress died.
Not that fearing death should be a problem if she repelled Captain Paulson’s attack. She checked the map indicating where the invaders had landed. Another group of enemy icons had assembled in Segment 5.
Lilith frowned and said, “They’re in all ten colony segments now.” She looked to the live feeds of the main docking bays where some fighting had occurred. Now the mechs and soldiers there waited behind their barricades. Lilith struck her arms akimbo and turned to Henry.
“Those soldiers don’t seem enthusiastic to fight,” she said.
Henry grunted. “I’m sure it isn’t because they suspect you’ll enslave them if you win. At least your mechs are proving effective.”
Before she could retort, a buzz drew her attention.
“Empress,” Natrix said, “another wave of enemy transports is lining up outside to assault Segment 5.”
Lilith turned to Henry. “You and the generals said the Mykonians would focus on securing the docking bays first.”
Henry kept watch on the tactical plot as he answered. “I said they’d probably attack those first and they did. Just not as vigorously as we’d expected.”
“They barely tried. It looks to me like they’re dumping most of their forces here.”
Henry’s affect remained flat, and his voice communicated cold annoyance. “If you’re bothered that the enemy isn’t following your battle plan, get over it.”
Lilith scowled. “Do we have enough troops and mechs in our segment to beat them?” she demanded.
Henry flicked a finger at a monitor. “The quick reaction transports are already in the air, waiting to go. We’ll beat them back.”
Location: Landing pod C-130, MAC 785, outside Lakshmi Colony
Timeframe: One hour into invasion operations_
“We’re clear of the Sorvino,” the MAC pilot warned. “Landing zone secure. Standby for burn.”
Within the Marine Assault Carrier’s detachable landing pod, a suited-up Sarah Riley squeezed the straps of her acceleration cot. Sweat beaded on her forehead and her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
The front-line units had established a fragile beachhead in the colony segment containing Lilith. The time had come for sustainment personnel, like the medical platoon surrounding Sarah, to support the attack.
While they waited, Sarah writhed inside. She wished Sean could talk to her: to calm her nerves with his rich, resonate voice. As the fleet liaison, however, he’d been assigned a seat in the Brigade leadership’s MAC. That left Sarah measuring her pulse by the throbbing in her throat.
At last, the pilot said, “Ignition.”
The cabin lurched as if rammed from behind. Sarah’s body felt like someone had tossed several full duffle bags atop her. Her brain rattled in her skull, making her grit against an urge to scream.
Shortly after, she heard, “Five seconds to cutoff.”
She heaved shuddering breaths as weightlessness returned. Within eight seconds, the MAC had accelerated by almost eight hundred kilometers per hour. This matched precisely the tangential speed of Lakshmi’s rotating rim.
“Capture in twenty,” the alert came. Sarah felt the MAC swivel so that its nose pointed perpendicular to the colony. As they zipped to within two meters of the turning habitat, the craft fired four cables from its prow. Each line grappled onto one of the regularly placed utility shackles at Lakshmi’s surface.
For a second, the ship dangled from the colony like a tick on a dog. Then two more cables shot from the MAC’s tail. These reeled the craft parallel to the worldlet’s curvature.
As a proper down return to the room, the thrumming in Sarah’s chest turned into a palpitation. She pinched the release buttons on her belt and clomped onto the deck. Both knees buckled in the centrifugal gravity.
Climbing back to her feet, she promised herself, I’m going to get through this.
The pilot said, “We’re locked on.” The external pressure gauge on Sarah’s HUD began to rise as atmosphere pumped back into the cabin.
From somewhere forward, the company commander, a lady named Major Kwihani said, “Beginning breaching ops!”
Sarah waited as their pod’s spindly manipulator arms reached out. They quickly unfastened blocks of the colony’s multi-layered shield and tossed them away. After that, the pod pressed its twin dorsal airlocks to the naked shell.
The roof clunked loudly, making Sarah jump.
“You’re secured to the LZ,” the pilot said. “Detaching. Good hunting.” A bump later and the drive-cockpit portion of the MAC broke away. It throttled for the Sorvino to retrieve more pods.
“Fire in the hole!” the major yelled. Breaching charges fore and aft rattled the cabin. Seconds later, she shouted, “We’re in!” “Go! Go! Go!”
A mad scramble up the ladders began. Sarah fell in, slinging her weapon and an aid bag. After a panting climb, she emerged into a cavernous storage compartment the size of a convention hall. With trepidation, she saw it contained very little: a smattering of crates, a few forklifts and the occasional clump of equipment: not much cover.
Shouts and orders echoed from people scattered about the breaching holes from other pods. A navigational arrow in Sarah’s HUD directed her to a group of pallets loaded down with heavy machinery. A spinning red cross appeared in their midst.
“Charlie Company,” Major Kwihani’s voice called on the net. “We’ll set up a treatment point over here. Quick-time. Wounded are already on their way.”
Sarah’s eyes widened at the announcement. There had been pre-launch reports of mechs using sky copters to assault the surface line units. Could they be near?
“Mechs are already attacking the perimeter up top,” Major Kwihani said, confirming Sarah’s fears.
The lieutenant tried to remain calm as she sprinted with the medics, technicians, and other providers. A set of cracks from behind made her jump. She stifled the urge to scream and looked back to see smoking craters at the compartment’s far end. More pods had blasted boarding entrances. She bit her lower lip, telling herself to stay focused.
Then a blip came up on her HUD’s situational awareness map. She’d set it to alert her to track specialized personnel, like the other providers or the company commander. Or any friends she wanted to be near.
Sean’s name glowed next to a blue icon amidst a cluster of other new arrivals. Sarah felt a nucleus of warmth grow within. His being around bolstered her thread-bear nerves. She dropped her aid bag at the treatment area then ran back to the pod for more gear.
“Enemy transports inbound,” t
he battle captain’s strained voice said in Sean’s earpiece. “We have maybe a minute to take up positions.”
Sean hitched the straps of a fifteen-kilogram, tube-launched missile at his back and started climbing a flight of stairs to the colony’s inner surface. The brigade’s assault in the last twenty minutes had faltered more than predicted. Lilith’s mechs led troops from both above and below the surface level to punch into the Mykonian positions. The only real success the desperate invaders enjoyed came through the man-hauled missiles. Those would knock the murder-machines out so long as they didn’t get shot down by the mechs’ mini-guns.
In light of this, the brigade commander had ordered everyone in Sean’s flight to haul a missile up to the surface. Living after that to set up proper command post operations was, in the brigade commander’s words, “gravy.”
Huffing up the stairs, Sean heard the muffled chatter of gunfire. Dull knives of tension jabbed behind his eyes and scalp. The fighting was not supposed to be so close.
“Enemy in area,” Claire said in his speakers.
“No kidding,” Sean replied with a sneer.
He heard someone up ahead yelling, “Keep moving! Get to the doors! Cover fire!” An instant later, the racket of gunshots assaulted his plugged ears. Then a crack and flash erupted from above.
Bodies, body parts, and building debris spewed down the stairwell, knocking people over like dominos. A few men screamed in pitiable agony while the unharmed hollered for their fellows to press on.
“Go! Go! Go!” Sean called, fearful of a follow-up strike or one of their own missiles accidentally triggering. He bounded upward, stepping over and around the wounded. The stairs ended inside a rubble-strewn, concrete room with a gaping hole where an exit used to be. In concert with their battle plan, Sean rushed past, avoiding the outdoors. Doubtless, the enemy had machine guns trained on the exit from higher up the colony’s curvature.
