by M. R. Forbes
Hayley could hear the sudden explosion of sound from the speakers placed throughout the pleasure cruiser, even from her position near the airlock hatch to the docking arm. It was a high-pitched wail of old Earth music. A song Quark had selected himself, called Gimme Some Lovin.”
It was the only thing Station Control was going to get in response to their hail. It was their only warning that the Riders weren’t planning to leave.
“I like this song,” Gant said.
Hayley ignored him. She was listening to the echoes of movement at the far end of the docking arm, Quark and the other Riders moving out into the station. They weren’t trying to be sly about it. They planned to make a frontal assault, distract the synth guards, and make it as far as they could to Control before being pinned down. Then once Sykes did her thing, the defense would break and they would have a straight shot to the station’s flight control systems, disterium reactor, and everything else.
She heard the distant hatch open, the freshly armed Riders moving out into the corridor. Pallimo had left a pair of synth guards near the hatch, and she heard the muffled sound of the rounds pouring into the false humans, taking them out of commission.
“Witchy, you’re clear,” Quark said.
“Roger, Colonel,” Hayley said. She glanced at Sykes.
They had both put on fresh lightsuits. They were both carrying pistols on their hips, the tightpacks lining the body armor stuffed with equipment for their part of the mission. Hayley also had Mazrael’s ancient Uin hanging from the other side of her hip and a pair of backup plasma pistols strapped to her calves. Xolo was positioned behind them, in a more basic spider-steel armor that would stretch with him if he decided to change form.
“Are you ready?” she asked the Engineer.
Sykes nodded. Her qi was solid blue, tinged with red. She was focused and determined. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s go.”
The three of them pushed away from the Chalandra and down the docking arm, The riffs of Gimme Some Lovin fading behind them. A fresh wave of gunfire sounded further ahead, as Quark and the others ran into their next challenge.
“Damn, they got here faster than I expected,” Quark said. “Witchy, you’ve got a short opening to take the left connector to the next tube before you’re cut off.”
“Roger,” Hayley said. “Let’s pick up the pace.”
She added speed, using the assistive musculature in the lightsuit to pull herself on the rails, down the length of the arm. Sykes kept up easily, while Tibor was forced to change forms behind them to manage the new pace. The shift nearly caused the Engineer to crash into the wall as she looked back and saw the massive, hairless Goreshin behind her.
“What the frag?” she said, her qi finding its yellow. She put her hand out to steady herself along the side of the tunnel and prevent herself from tumbling to the ground.
“Relax, Sykes,” Hayley said. “He’s on our side.”
“You didn’t tell me you had the biggest Goreshin in the universe on the team.”
“Does it matter?” Hayley replied. “He’s a friend, and he’s a hell of a lot more trustworthy than you.”
“And I’m not the biggest,” Tibor said, his voice deep and low. “Not by a longshot.”
They reached the end of the docking arm, passing though the airlock. Two synths were on the floor, surrounded by clear lubricating fluid, their bodies splattered with holes from both projectile and plasma weapons. Hayley didn’t slow as she passed them, moving to the corridor. She could see the backs of the other Riders ahead of them, shooting back at soldiers that must have emerged from the nearest tube.
She hit the brakes, sliding to a stop and turning to the left. Sykes and Tibor did the same, the Goreshin using the opposite wall as a barrier to stop his momentum and leaving a wide dent in it. They accelerated again, down the curving outer docking ring toward the next spoke and away from Quark and the others.
“Colonel.” Don Pallimo’s voice spilled through her visor’s comm. “Colonel, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”
“Gant, I thought you said you secured our comm channel,” Hayley said as she ran.
“I did,” the AI replied.
“And?”
“He must be amplifying the frequency to overpower it.”
“Colonel,” the Don said again. “This is an unsanctioned act of aggression. Whatever your intention is, I suggest you change your mind about it immediately.”
“And if I don’t?” Quark asked.
The Don’s response was dark and menacing. “You won’t get off this station alive. I guarantee it.”
A pause followed. Then Quark laughed into the comm.
“You don’t get it, do you Donnie?” he said. “We don’t want to get off the station. I’ve dealt with your rich-ass bullshit for years because I bought into everything you were selling. But we’ve both changed since then. I’ve become more human. It seems to me you’ve become less. Much less. Screw the galaxy? I don’t think so. I’m coming for you, you son of a bitch. Oh, and by the way: You can take my retainer and shove it up your electrons.”
Hayley couldn’t help but smile at the statement. She glanced over at Tibor. He couldn’t exactly smile in his second form, but his qi was clearly amused.
The amusement faded an instant later as a group of synth soldiers rounded the corner from the tube, bringing their rifles up to fire, too close to evade.
She didn’t have a chance to try. She felt something hit her from behind, dragging her to the floor before she could react. The synth soldiers started shooting, their aim too high to hit her as she slammed into the floor, sliding forward on her stomach.
The shots weren’t too high to hit Tibor. He had knocked her to the ground to protect her, and now he bounded over her and toward them, his muscular form carrying him to the soldiers. She saw the plasma bolts dig into him, leaving deep pockets of what had to be excruciating burns along his flesh. He didn’t react, hitting the first synth full-on, claws digging through its armor and far into its artificial flesh.
Tibor roared as he bounced away from that one, lashing out with large claws and catching another guard in the head, the razor-sharp ends slicing away the synthetic skin and leaving the metal beneath exposed, the force knocking the synth hard into the wall.
Hayley shoved herself back to her feet, aiming her pistol and opening fire. She caught the damaged synth in the side of the head, distracting it while Tibor grabbed the synth beside it and threw it to the floor, jumping on top of it and digging in with his hind claws. Then she ran toward the fray, grabbing her Uin and flicking it open, joining Tibor in the scrum and dragging the weapon into and through a synth’s neck.
“Clear,” she said as the last of the synths went down to Tibor’s fury. The Goreshin turned, mouth open and teeth bared in a frightening snarl. “I said, clear,” she repeated. “Relax. They’re out of commission.”
He nodded, calming visibly. “They didn’t hit you?”
“No,” she replied. “You saved my life.”
His snarl turned into a grin. “No, I didn’t.”
Sykes caught up with them, surveying the damage. “Wow,” she said. “I’m glad you’re on our side.”
Hayley pointed to the tube ahead. “This way.”
They hurried to the tube.
“Now what?” Sykes asked, looking through the semi-transparent doors. “The platform is gone.”
“Xolo?” Hayley said.
Tibor dug his claws between the doors, yanking them open.
“Now we climb.”
9
“We?” Tibor said, looking at Hayley. “You don’t have any naniates.”
“Sorry,” Hayley said. “I should have said you.”
He growled softly, crouching low. “Hop on.”
“Are you sure about this?” Sykes asked, looking at him hesitantly.
“What’s the point in having a genetically enhanced Goreshin if you aren’t going to put him to work?” Hayley said.
“The two of you together can’t weigh more than a hundred and ten kilos,” Tibor said. “I was tested at nearly four hundred.”
“How much could White carry?” Hayley asked.
“Twelve hundred. Maybe more. He broke the equipment.”
“I’m glad that asshole’s dead then.”
Hayley wrapped her arm around Tibor’s left shoulder, grabbing the front of his armor. Sykes did the same.
“Witchy, this is Colonel. We’ve cleared the docking ring. Heading along the housing ring on Deck Eleven toward the secure tubes. It’s going to be a short walk unless you get the controls unlocked.”
“Roger, Colonel,” Hayley replied. “We’re on our way up.”
“Copy that,” Quark said.
Hayley gasped as Tibor threw himself forward, bounding through the open doors of the tube. His claws screamed against the far side as he dug in with hands and feet, leaving Sykes and Hayley dangling on his back.
Hayley looked down. Her vision didn’t extend far enough to see the bottom.
“One hundred twenty meters,” Gant said, answering her question before she could ask. “The platform is offline.”
“Pallimo shut it down,” she said. “He knows we’re in this tube.”
Something in the station made a snapping sound.
“Shit,” Tibor said.
“What just happened?” Hayley asked.
“They turned the lights out,” Sykes replied.
“I can’t see my claws in front of my face. It’s pitch black in here.”
“Damn Pallimo,” Hayley said. She looked up, able to see the shape of the tube amidst the qi surrounding her. “The tube goes up another seventy meters. You don’t need to see it to climb it.”
“Roger,” Tibor said.
“Colonel, did you go dark?” Hayley asked.
“We sure did,” Quark replied. “I can still see, as you well know. But Narrl and Jil are fragged.”
“Where are you?”
“Still in the housing ring. The blind leading the blind, huh? Stay alert. Pallimo didn’t cut the power because he thinks we’re afraid of the dark.”
“Roger.”
Tibor started to move, planting his claws on the wall and pulling them up as if they were climbing a ladder. He moved slowly, more cautious in how he positioned himself now that he couldn’t see.
Hayley heard something hiss overhead. A moment later, three forms leaned into the tube, their energy visible to her.
“We’ve got company,” she said, letting go of Tibor with one hand and reaching for her sidearm. “You need to-”
She stopped talking when one of the synths threw itself into the tube. It fell toward them, body twisting to direct itself to where Tibor was clinging to the wall. Of course, the synths could see in the dark.
“Xolo, watch out!” she shouted.
But there was no time. The synth hit them a moment later, slamming against Tibor’s head and arms, the force of the impact pulling them from the side of the tube.
The world spun in front of Hayley, an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of color moving too fast to home in on. She lost her grip on Tibor, separating from him, her back hitting the wall of the tube and bouncing off, her limbs flailing in a desperate attempt to find some kind of purchase. The air rushed past her, cool and stale, and she thought she caught a glimpse of Sykes a little further down, white with fear as she plummeted toward the bottom.
They fell, all three of them plus the synth, bouncing off the sides of the tube toward the bottom. At this height, they only had six seconds. It felt like forever. Everything slowed down, the universe coming to a sudden near-stop. Hayley didn’t have any naniates to stop her fall, and from up here the impact was sure to kill. She had never expected she would die so easily, so pathetically, tumbling down a tube shaft on a space station in the middle of nowhere. She wasn’t even going to die fighting the damn Nephilim, and that instantaneous thought was enough to drive her mad.
That fury drove her mind, reaching out blindly around her, calling out to the naniates. Were there any onboard Rage Station? Were there even any individuals? She had seen them through the windows when they were docking, hadn’t she? But there had been no sign of the molecular machines in their qi.
It was desperation. Self-preservation. The naniates could create tiny folds in time and space. They could reach her in an instant once they heard her cry. Even if they came, would she have enough time to break their momentum before all three of them splattered against the platform?
She felt them come, even if she had no idea where they were coming from. Her body started to tingle, the trillions of naniates suddenly appearing, unable to resist her persistent, frightened, furious command. They had barely settled in the grooves of her tattoos before she cast them out again, throwing them beneath her, ordering them to slow their descent.
She couldn’t use them on herself. They wouldn’t touch her. No matter what she asked them to do, her momentum wouldn’t slow. Whether she saved Tibor and Sykes or not, she was still going to die.
At least this way she would die for something.
She heard Tibor growl beneath her, caught hard by the naniates, his momentum slowed abruptly enough that even their rescue was enough to knock the wind out of him. An instant later, she felt his hand on her waist, reaching out and grabbing her. Another heartbeat later, her head was planted against his chest, her body pressed against his as they hit the ground together.
She heard his bones break. She heard the loud thud and clang of the metal platform as it captured the impact, the force causing it to dip slightly in the shaft. She heard Sykes cry out, and she cried out herself, pain washing through her body. Tibor had softened the blow considerably, but he couldn’t absorb it all himself.
Then everything stopped moving. Time regained itself, but the action was over. She remained on top of the Goreshin, trying to regain her vision. Tibor was a sea of purple qi beneath her, his body broken from the fall. His breathing was shallow, and he wasn’t moving at all.
“Tibor?” she said. She pulled the naniates back to her. She could heal him. If he were dying, she could save his life.
“I’ll be okay,” he said quietly. “I’m healing already.”
She exhaled, flushed with relief. She rolled off his chest, looking up toward the top of the shaft, and cursing when she did.
The remaining pair of synths had seen they survived.
Pallimo had thrown them down the shaft after them, a pair of robotic projectiles.
“No!” she shouted defensively, throwing her hands out and falling back onto the platform as she did. The naniates exploded away from her once more, meeting the synths.
The robots didn’t as much explode as disintegrate. The naniates tore through them, ripping them apart, deconstructing them in milliseconds. Hayley watched with terrified fascination as first the flesh of the synths was burned away, and then the metal and wires and tubes broke apart into tiny droplets, each of the base materials splattering down on them like an immediate tempest, the hailstorm clattering on the metal around her. The small impacts stung a little on her bare flesh, but they left her otherwise unharmed.
Unharmed, but not unshaken. Hayley shivered as she turned her gaze from the shaft above her to the tattoos on her arms. The naniates had resettled there after completing their work, and she stared at them in shock and fear. They weren’t the normal blue of the naniates from Hell’s Gate, the blood red of the Nephilim’s Gift, or the white of the Shard’s Light.
Instead, they were copper and green. A pattern she had only seen in one place, and not that long ago.
10
It seemed impossible. They had done everything they could to lose Thetan and the Collective. They had gone to a place that wasn’t on any maps. A place that Quark had never spoken about before. The Collective had said the Oracle needed data to make predictions. But there was no data in the universe that could have predicted the Riders’ destination.
Unless…
>
Hayley stood, sweeping the floor. She found Tibor first. His qi was improving, the naniates embedded in his bones helping to put him back together.
She found the synth that had fallen into them. It was twisted into an awkward position, its metal frame demolished by the impact. It shifted and twitched, trying to move but unable to overcome its damage. She saw the shape of a hand sticking out from beneath its back. She cringed as she followed it, picking out what was visible of Sykes among the wreckage.
The Engineer was dead.
They would never know if Sykes had sold them out a second time, somehow telling the Collective, or Thetan, or both where to find them. Dead women told no tales. Did it even matter now? Whether she had or hadn’t, the Collective was on Rage Station. The enemy had found them. Again.
This was getting real old, real fast.
“Colonel,” she said, reaching out for Quark on her comm. “Colonel, come in.”
Nothing.
“Colonel,” she said again. “Gant, are the coms offline?”
“Negative, Witchy,” Gant replied. “I’m picking up heavy interference. I believe we’re being jammed.”
“Can you unjam us?”
“From here? Not unless you happen to be carrying a high-output electromagnetic wave generator in your pocket.” The AI chittered in squirrely laughter.
“Time and place, freak-monkey,” Hayley said. She returned her attention to Tibor. “Can you move?”
“Witchy,” Tibor said. “Your arms. You’re-”
“Green. I know. One thing at a time. Can you move?”
He growled as he rolled over and shoved himself to his knees. “Oh,” he said, his eyes falling on Sykes. “Ouch. I’d feel sorry for her, but she did kind of bring this on herself.”
Hayley did feel sorry for her, despite her betrayal. It was a lousy way to die. “She didn’t deserve to have it end like this.”
Tibor got to his feet and shrugged. “You’re too kind, considering what she did to you.”
“You would still be under Devain’s thumb if she hadn’t.”
