Variant: A science fiction thriller (The Predictive: Deep Space Fringe Wars Book 2)

by L. V. Lane

  A loud pop was followed by a whoosh that shook the cave and rattled a few rocks loose. I ducked instinctively before flattening myself against the wall again. Everyone leapt to their feet. The crack of gunfire, screams, and further mini booms followed.

  “That has to be a good sign,” Gael said during a momentary pause in the tumult.

  I nodded.

  It kicked off again with more screams, gunfire, and another burst of explosive pops. Marik? No one else loved blowing shit up that much. The cacophony continued, fading away and then returning closer to the cave.

  “Hey, you in there?”

  At the sound of a familiar voice, I poked my head out to see Marik strolling into the clearing, grinning. He carried a grenade launcher in one hand, a backpack in his other hand, while two other rifles were slung over his shoulder. There was a shit-eating grin on his face.

  Behind him, several fires continued to burn, while the semi-peace was broken by the occasional scream.

  “Mopping the last of them up.” He pointed over his shoulder with the grenade launcher before tossing the backpack at me. “There’s water and rations in there. We arrived as soon as we could.”

  “How did you know we needed help?” I dumped the bag on the ground, pulling out the water to pass around. Everyone slugged it back enthusiastically.

  “Eva had a prediction. Realized Brent and everyone who got sick was Federation. Then she found a stash of control collars at the back of her store transport in boxes labeled as construction material. She knew an attack was imminent. I knew you were heading into a shit storm so I grabbed a team and headed over.”

  Fucking Brent! Someone passed me the water bottle. I enjoyed a long drink as I tried to wrap my head around the news. “She’s predicting, I knew she would.” I grinned but it faded. “What’s happening at the main camp now?”

  “Nothing, Jax is keeping it quiet. We left with my teams under the guise of a routine patrol. Jax sent another team to fetch Landon back. We didn’t want to trigger anything before we could mobilize everyone. I guess it’s a bit late to worry about that given you were trapped. What were they keeping you in there for anyway?”

  “More collars stacked up and under guard. We were finishing up here when we stumbled across them. They can communicate through their wrist plates—better than we can anyway.”

  “Shit!” Marik suddenly looked around. “Where’s Rachel?”

  “Still in the camp. Where else?”

  “We have to get her out!”

  “What, are you some kind of hero all of a sudden? We don’t have time to fuck around getting the geneticist out. They won’t hurt her when they need her.”

  “Her name is Rachel, and I’m not leaving her with those sick bastards!”

  “How are you going to get her out? She was in the middle of the camp last I saw. There are over four hundred people in the camp, all of them sick. That means every one of them is Federation. There’s no way we can take them on.”

  “We gotta take them out sometime. Four hundred less now is a good thing, right?”

  “We can’t take out four hundred on our own! Are you insane?” I rubbed the back of my neck and wondered why I hadn’t cut the discussion off sooner. We should be regrouping at the main base and tackling this in a structured way. Marik snatched his backpack from me and began rifling through it in a frenzy. He whipped out several hand-sized, black balls.

  “Are those pop-bombs?” It was a rhetorical question, I knew they were pop-bombs, it was more complete disbelief that Marik had tossed a bag full of them at me! His love of explosives, and less than ideal handling techniques, were the reason for his prosthetic arm. I took an involuntary step back as cold sweat popped out across my body. They were supposed to be inside safety casings. While you had to throw them reasonably hard to pop them, you didn’t need to throw them that hard.

  Marik winked, sending a gleeful glance at the deadly bombs. “I noticed them on Eva’s stock list when we were checking where the missing boxes had gone. No idea why they weren’t packed inside the proper casing. This is an accident waiting to happen.” He twirled a pop-bomb in his fingers before abruptly stepping over and dumping the collection into my reluctant hands. “Did I pack three or four?” he mumbled as he began rifling through the backpack again.

  “How can you not know how many you packed?” I tried to shut down the images of Marik jogging through the forest to reach me with this bouncing about on his back.

  Marik pulled two more out triumphantly. “Nope, five! That was fortuitous.”

  Fortuitous? Marik must have been spending more time with Rachel than I’d suspected. “Why would they even be on the ship?” I muttered. “Park that. It doesn’t matter. Fine, let’s do this. They already know we’re here. If their comms work over longer distances, it’s possible the main camp knows.” Jax had a level head, and Landon was only a couple of days from the main base at worst—he could be already there.

  I prayed he was already there.

  “It hasn’t gone to plan for the Federation so far. I say let’s screw with their plans some more.” Marik tossed a pop-bomb in the air, then caught it again, giving me palpitations. “How many collars are in there?” He pointed at the cave.

  “A lot,” I said. “Six boxes, five hundred in each.”

  Marik gave a meaningful glance at the pop-bomb in his hand. “Bet you’re glad I packed five now, too.”

  “Don’t get ideas above yourself,” I grouched. “But yes, I am glad you packed five.”

  We made our way back to the Federation camp. A total of fifteen military personnel, and thanks to Marik’s foresight, four remaining pop-bombs after we used one in the cave to destroy the control collars. A satisfying day all round.

  “We need a diversion.” Marik stood to my right. It had been hard getting close to the camp, which was in a frenzy. I suspected Marik’s activity at the cave had been noted. He hadn’t exactly been quiet about it. The Technologists had communication of sorts, so it was likely a message had gotten through even if we’d killed them all.

  We had taken out another patrol to get this close and the threat of discovery remained.

  “Well, you have four of them in your backpack,” I said dryly, uncomfortable with Marik hauling them about in such a blasé way, but figuring if there was any real danger, it would have manifested by now. “They’ll presume we’re heading back to the main camp to warn them. They’re spooked. But I can’t tell if they’re packing up to leave or getting ready for some sort of attack.”

  “They don’t have the numbers for an outright attack. It’s still only seventeen percent. How do you think they were going to use the collars? It’s not like someone is going to put one on voluntarily.”

  “I have no idea.” My gut churned thinking about the collars. A new colony with an army of slaves to do their bidding. The Federation had assimilated many people into their culture along the way. How many generations before we simply accepted our place in the hierarchy? Before the collars were no longer needed and we became compliant like Riley’s people were? “I know where her tent is. I’ll go in,” I said. “Take the rest of the team and create a distraction. We’ll meet at the rendezvous point.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Don’t be a complete idiot. Landon may tolerate your bullshit, but don’t presume it’ll work with me. Besides, we both know you’re the master of diversions. I’ll go in alone.”

  “Not sure tolerate is the right word. It’s more a slow wearing down of his resistance over time. And I just saved your ass. I can’t believe you’re giving me a hard time.”

  “When you start using the brain in your head instead of the one in your pants, I’ll stop giving you a hard time.”

  “Okay, you want a diversion,” Marik said, all business. “One diversion, coming up!”

  “What are you planning to do?” I side-eyed Marik.

  “Leave it to me.” He patted his backpack decisively. “Trust me, you’ll know when it’s time to m
ove.” With those parting words, he took off with the teams.

  Alone, I contemplated the consequence of letting Marik off his leash. I didn’t wait long. An explosion boomed to my left, startling birds to flight and shaking the ground. Ahead, the camp occupants froze.

  A second blast came from farther away. The Federation rushed to respond. I clipped my shell armor shut, worked a handful of mud into my rank insignia to obscure it, flipped my visor down, and stalked toward the camp. As I broke the tree line, I could see people mobilizing, weapons being handed out, and organization far better than I might have hoped.

  They were planning a coup, I reminded myself.

  Enough people were rushing to and from the site of the blast to cover my arrival. In the distance, I could hear automatic fire, signifying the fighting had become close and personal. Since I wasn’t pointing a gun at anyone or firing a shot, I blended into the chaos. It took me a while to orientate myself on the location of Rachel’s tent, and I ended up doing a mini loop before I spotted it.

  “You there! What do you think you’re doing?”

  I turned slowly, hand casually shifting toward my weapon to find a grunt waiting with hands on hips poised to give me a dressing down.

  “We have attacks on the east and south. Get that supply box over there now!” He pointed at an enormous box overflowing with spare guns and ammunition.

  I resisted the urge to punch the man in his red nose since there were far too many people around and no way would I get away with it. Hefting the box into my arms—it must have weighed more than I did—I started walking in the direction indicated. Once I was out of sight, I turned a sharp left at the next tent and set out at a jog toward Rachel’s tent. Between the monstrous bouncing box of arms and the pace, I was sweating by the time I reached her tent and burst through the flap.

  It was empty.

  At no point during my finely honed plan did I anticipate her not being here. There were no guards outside so that should have been a giveaway. I dropped the box and riffled through the contents for some backup supplies since Marik’s harebrained rescue was about to fall apart.

  Stepping back outside, I stopped to scan the chaotic crowd. Where the fuck was she? I turned a full circle, desperation clawing at the back of my skull as the fear of discovery and not finding Rachel vied for attention.

  I froze, catching sight of red hair, and praising the gene pool that had manifested my deliverance. I took off at a jog on a collision course. There were two men flanking her, taking her somewhere in a hurry.

  “I have orders to take her to safety.” I didn’t spare a glance for Rachel and hoped she had the sense to follow my unorthodox lead.

  “Orders, what orders?” The one on the left lifted his wrist plate to study it with a frown. “I have orders to take her to the Commander.”

  Commander? It took me several awkward seconds to realize we were talking about their Commander. I must have missed the promotion communication, I thought cynically. “Change of plan.”

  “This is highly irregular,” the other man said.

  This wasn’t getting it done fast enough, and we were far too close to the command hut. And since neither of them was wearing shell armor…

  I jabbed the nearest one in the face—he wilted, out cold. Then took the wind out of the second one with a punch to the gut before dragging him down to the ground.

  Rachel addressed the curious onlookers. “Infection related! Please, don’t linger. This strain is deadly!”

  Impressed by Rachel’s creativity under pressure, I subtly snapped the flailing man’s neck—which wasn’t easy to do subtly at all.

  “Eric, what the hell is happening? Why is everyone in this camp suddenly acting crazy?” she hissed at me as the crowd dispersed. “Oh my God! Did you just kill him!?”

  I yanked the nearest man’s cap off and shoved it at her. “Cover your hair. We’re leaving the camp, now.”

  Without protest or question, she shoved the cap on her head. The sounds of gunfire were fading away. “Marik’s creating a diversion, but we don’t have much time. This camp is full of Federation. We’re heading straight for the trees. I’ll be right behind you. Walk, don’t run, unless I tell you to—then you run!”

  Fingers shaking, she tucked stray hairs under the cap. Once done, she nodded, and we both stood.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes,” she said, a little breathless.

  We headed for the trees. I might have told her to walk but she set a brisk pace within those bounds. We were no more than a dozen paces from the trees when a call to, “Halt!” came from behind.

  “Run!”

  As she sprinted for the trees, I turned to see a dozen soldiers break away from the camp to give pursuit. I presumed they wanted Rachel alive because none of them fired. Sending a quick burst of cover fire, I raced after Rachel, only to have Marik emerge from the trees armed with a pop-bomb in his hand.

  “Good thing I don’t follow orders. You’d be screwed if I’d gone to the rendezvous point.” Marik sent the pop-bomb sailing over his head. A second later, a boom shattered the air.

  And for that, I was also grateful.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Eva

  THE FOREST WAS hot, but thankfully, dry. Ahead, I could just make out Reeve, her backpack swaying as she walked.

  Our destination was still many days away, but the city was our one hope if the Federation had infiltrated the next ship. They had infiltrated this ship, so infiltrating the next one did not seem such a leap of faith.

  My first future prediction since Brent drugged me had been a long time coming, but it had landed with all the force of the cursed planet’s rain.

  Landon would kill those responsible. He wouldn’t hesitate.

  Variant. So much had gone on since we arrived that I had spent little time considering that revelation about Landon. He wasn’t a normal human anymore, but then again, neither was I. They had picked him to lead this colony because he wouldn’t hesitate to make difficult choices. I was an emotional sponge, and he had very little emotions at all. No, that wasn’t fair. He wasn’t cold, he simply kept it all locked down.

  I wondered what burden that placed on his soul…

  This was about survival, I got that, and resigned myself to the consequence of hard decisions even though I had never had to make them myself. This was just another such decision as a result of my prediction.

  Did that make me responsible? I’d been pulling levers my whole life, guiding people in directions by voicing what I knew. I had abused my power at times for personal gains. Understanding how people would react to stimulation was a terrible burden, and hard to resist. Cause and effect, eternally entwined, and I was one of a select few who can see the way it worked. My relationships were forays into my dark side. I had needed them, all of them, at least I thought I did, but I had been unquestionably selfish while convincing myself of my lofty self-importance.

  It seemed irrelevant now the war was once more beating at our door. It felt inevitable, and inescapable, perhaps because it was. Our collective demise once again, here, so far from our former homes and worlds. And, at the juxtaposition, underlying the bitter hatred the two sides directed at each other were ordinary people who did not want to kill or fight, who did not thirst for power, and desired only the quintessential human goal: to live in peace, to recreate themselves in their children, and leaving this simple legacy, die.

  Such humble aspirations were out of our reach, and the denied linchpin, always peace.

  The deaths sat heavy upon my shoulders—the seventeen percent who had fallen sick and that Landon would kill without hesitation or indication of remorse.

  It was them or us, but for once, I wanted hope.

  Ahead, Reeve was waiting. “They should have put you through training,” she grumbled.

  I had observed that Reeve grumbled a lot, but it carried a note of habit rather than genuine complaint. Although, since Reeve often waited for me to catch up, her complaints were ju
stified.

  “Predictive. No need until now.” Base genetics could only stretch so far, and after I tested predictive, they didn’t bother trying. I was envious of Reeve’s combat capability. Besides Eric and Jax, she was the toughest soldier I’d met.

  “A tragedy.” Reeve stepped aside as I approached. “You’re on point. That way I can kick your butt if you start dawdling again.”

  I made a concerted effort to increase my pace. The ground was deeply layered with thick ferns and my focus was consumed with where I would place my next step. For all her serious exterior, Reeve had a dry sense of humor. Her name was a curiosity. “Why do people call you by your surname? What is your first name?”

  “Rose.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I found the big Marine grinning. My brain scrambled to process whether that was a lie, and when nothing became apparent, I replied with, “Rose?”

  “My first name is Rose, but anyone using it is going to end up bloody. I assume my mother has a sick sense of humor, either that, or she genuinely loved roses. My family has been in the military for generations, so I’m leaning toward a twisted joke.”

  “It’s a beautiful name,” I said.

  “Not really beauty pageant material here.”

  I laughed at her matter-of-fact admission. “I think Majestic would suit you better.”

  “Yeah? Now that sounds like you’re asking me to kick your butt again… You know he’s going to be pissed at both of us.”

  I sighed. The steady thud of my feet against the springy forest floor seemed to emphasize the inevitable confrontation when Landon caught up. “It was necessary.”

  “To force his hand, I guess.”

  “All I know with absolute certainty is that we will be enslaved when the Federation arrive. We don’t have the means to protect ourselves. We’re exposed and vulnerable. You will be no more than a strong, capable body, and I will be used to manipulate and monitor for dissension. You would become their weapon, but I would become a worse one.”