by Cary Caffrey
"Those people won't make it three kilometers let alone three hundred. I won't need to stop you, Ms. Novak, the terrain will take care of that."
Sigrid had to agree, but she was hardly going to abandon these people to the Merchantmen.
"Just worry about your ship, Thuan. I'll worry about the rest."
"And how do I know you'll keep your end of the bargain? That you'll transmit the termination codes?"
"You don't. Sorry, Mr. Lai, but you'll just have to trust me. Once we're safely away, I'll transmit the codes and shut down the countdown. If we're safe, then your ship will be safe."
"Those people are of value to me. You, Ms. Novak, are of value. You can't think I will let you walk out of here.
"Yes, Mr. Lai, that's exactly what I think. Kill me, and you lose your ship. Without your ship, what are you? Just another aging grifter looking for the next mark."
"You think you'll find safe haven out there? Word has already spread about you. The Merchantmen aren't the only ones who know you're working for the Consortium. They'll come for you, Ms. Novak. For a chance at one-point-eight-five billion, they'll all come for you."
"Then I suppose I better get moving." Sigrid turned, ready to march into the forest.
"We're not done, Ms. Novak!" Lai shouted after her. He was red in the face and shaking his thin fist. "You've not seen the last of the Merchantmen."
Sigrid glanced back over her shoulder. "For your sake, you best hope you're wrong. Goodbye, Mr. Lai."
Leaving the merchantmen behind, Sigrid approached the cluster of freed slaves. Most of them were quite thin and suffering from malnutrition. This was probably the first time they'd been outside in months. Perhaps years. How on Earth was she going to get them to safety?
"Where will we go?" Nuria asked. She was dressed now in pants and boots stolen from the pirate traders. She still had the eSMG in her hands, and Sigrid thought she looked quite brave, standing there and watching over the escapees, like a shepherd overlooking her flock.
"We'll make for the Crossroads," Sigrid said. "It's our best hope."
"How far is it?" Nuria said, and then she looked about her. "And where is it?"
Sigrid pointed south, beyond the hills. The terrain looked rough and heavily treed. "There, Nuria. A little less than three hundred kilometers."
"Three hundred…?"
"Don't worry, Nuria. We'll make it." They had to.
~ - ~
They had only covered eight of the three hundred kilometers back to the Crossroads when Sigrid called a stop to rest. Their third already. In four more minutes the reactor core of the Merchantman freighter would implode. It was time for Sigrid to decide. Send the code, halting the countdown, or let the Merchantmen blow themselves to bits.
"You should let them blow up," Nuria said. "That's what they deserve."
"I'd like nothing better," Sigrid said, "but unfortunately, at this distance, a freighter's drive core exploding will wipe out much of this valley—with us in it." Sigrid turned back the way they had come. "Besides, I'm not detecting any sign of pursuit. It looks like the Merchantmen have kept their part of the bargain. I won't kill them for spite."
"But if they should come after us—?"
"She's right," Niklos said. "The Merchantmen won't let this many slaves go. It wouldn't look right. Bad for business. You can bet they'll come after us."
"Well," Sigrid said, contemplating the conundrum and giving her head a good scratch, "if they do, then I will kill them. I promise. Unfortunately—" Sigrid let her eyes drift back to the forested hills before them "—right now, the Merchantmen are the least of our concerns."
"They'll make it," Nuria said, gesturing to the cluster of escapees. They were a tired lot, exhausted and drained.
"It's not them I'm worried about, Nuria. There's something else. There's something out there."
"Something—?"
Sigrid hushed her, then lowered her voice so that only Niklos and Nuria might hear. "I've been scanning this whole valley. We're not alone."
Nuria gasped, and Sigrid had to hush her quickly. "I-I thought you said the Merchantmen weren't following us."
"They're not. And that's precisely what has me worried. I didn't call this halt just so we could rest. For the past hour I've been monitoring a new group of signals just beyond that ridge. I'm counting at least forty men. And machines. I've also detected several coded transmissions to orbit."
"Mierda."
"My thoughts exactly."
"Who?" Niklos said. "Who's out there?"
Sigrid shook her head. "I don't know. Could be CTF. Could be mercenaries. Or it could be a farmer working her automated soy harvesters for all I know. But we can't go any further. Not until I'm sure."
"We could go back," Niklos said. "We could try to take the ship."
"No," Sigrid said. "I don't think this lot is up to a fight. The plan stands. We'll make for the Crossroads. But I want to investigate those signals first."
Nuria handed her the eSMG, but Sigrid shook her head. "Thanks, but I don't think that will do much good—not against the force I'm scanning. Best you keep it. If I don't come back, it's up to you to lead these people to safety."
"Then you best come back," Nuria said.
"What do you want us to tell the others?" Niklos said.
Sigrid shrugged. "They're so tired I don't think they'll notice. Tell them I've gone to relieve myself. Don't worry. I'll be right back."
~ - ~
While the signals were cause for concern, Sigrid found herself more intrigued than alarmed as she moved out into the forest. Whoever was waiting for her out there, it wasn't the Merchantmen. And it wasn't the CTF either. Niklos had told her the Council forces were due in eight hours. If those were Council troops, then they would have moved in directly. Any delay would mean risking losing her. No, this was something else.
Since the moment Nuria had cut through her bonds, Sigrid felt like she was bursting with renewed energy. Here, out here on her own, Sigrid allowed herself access to all of her energy reserves, unleashing her full potential. All of her senses were heightened and on alert, giving her a renewed sense of focus. She was a blur, a shadow moving amongst the brush, never once making a sound. Not a leaf was rustled, and no twigs snapped beneath her feet. She was a wraith. A ghost.
Perhaps I am this Night Witch? Sigrid thought with a smile.
There was something invigorating, rejuvenating about being out here on her own. She hadn't felt like this since she was a young girl at the Academy, rushing through the forests of Alcyone with Suko close at her side. Yet she knew this wasn't one of Rosa's devious training exercises. This was real, and the lives of those people she'd left behind remained in her hands. They were depending on her, and she wasn't about to let them down.
The signals were stronger now, coming from less than a kilometer away. She didn't run straight toward them. Instead, she performed a wide loop, coming around to their rear. The signals were clustered in a large gully. The foliage here was dense and thick. Without her sensors, Sigrid and her band of escapees might have stumbled directly into their midst.
Clambering up a hillock on the far side, Sigrid had a perfect view of what lay in waiting for them below. Forty men and women moved about. They were armed and uniformed. Five of them were officers, and they wore the uniforms of Cheung-Yoshida Multi-Planetary.
But it wasn't the sight of the officers from the facility that sent icy tendrils coursing down her spine. It was the other thirty-five men and women. Their simple olive-drab fatigues bore no markings or insignia, but Sigrid had seen them before. First on Earth, the night she'd broken into the CTF towers. Then on Scorpii. And, of course, on Bellatrix.
It was the Independents, and they had come for her.
"Mierda," Sigrid said.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Nemesis
"Independents," Sigrid said again. "Blast it."
Sigrid scrambled back into the brush. She was already lying as flat as she could, yet she could
n't help but press herself down even more into the cold ground. She scanned the soldiers again, just to be sure. Those officers were definitely Cheung-Yoshida, and there was no disguising the Independents. As if to add to the evidence, two hulking mechs lumbered into view. These walking tanks were the favored weapon of the Independents. They'd used them to great effect on Alcyone. Their metal feet shook the ground with each of their great strides. An entire platoon of soldiers walked at their sides, clad in their mechanized armor, their identities hidden behind the mirrored faceplates.
With her heart pounding in her chest, Sigrid rolled onto her back, staring up at the sky.
Why they were here wasn't a mystery: they were here for her. They had to know the Merchantmen had taken her, but if they did, then why weren't they attacking?
Sigrid lay there, waiting for the inevitable, yet no alarms sounded, no call to arms came, and no one moved her way. They might not have detected her. They might still think she was aboard the freighter. There might still be time—she could still run.
Out of the question. Sigrid dismissed the idea straight away. She wasn't about to abandon Nuria nor the refugees.
Rising and keeping low, Sigrid started to make her way back to them. She would run, yes, but they were all getting out of here.
All of us. Or none of us.
The heady excitement she'd felt on her way out was gone, replaced by a new sense of urgency, and she headed back with even greater speed. She took great care to make certain she wasn't detected or followed, using every ounce of her energy and training to maintain her stealth. She was good, and she knew it. It was for that reason that she was most distressed to see the alert flash in her HUD: a new signal appeared before her.
Sigrid slowed, dropping to a knee. Scanning ahead with her optical module, she zoomed in. The heat signature was unmistakable. Someone was out there, waiting for her. Sigrid froze, waiting, scanning. But the signal neither moved nor made a sound. It might be a sentry—perhaps someone she'd missed on her way out?
Taking great care, Sigrid moved slowly to flank the person. There was something familiar about that signal, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was almost as if they knew they were being scanned, blocking her. She needed line of sight.
She closed to within twenty-five meters, coming around behind them, and still the signal didn't move.
It's a guard, Sigrid. Just a sentry. That's all, she told herself, though she didn't believe it for a second.
She paused behind one of the large ombu trees; the giant roots thrusting out of the ground granted her the perfect cover. Careful to engage her cloak first, Sigrid peered over the edge.
There were plenty of things in life that made Sigrid afraid, she wasn't immune to fear, but the terror she felt in that moment was like nothing she'd experienced before. She practically gasped aloud, slapping both hands over her mouth before collapsing back behind the tree.
The panicked wheezing of her breath and the pounding of her own heart sounded so loud she was sure the person must have heard it. And she didn't need to look back. She knew what was waiting for her out there.
That girl…
It was her. It was that—that machine from Bellatrix. One of Harry Jones's constructs. One of his volunteers.
Sigrid would never forget her. Stronger and faster than Sigrid, she was more machine than woman. She had fought her on Bellatrix—twice—and very nearly died.
And now she was here.
She wouldn't be alone either. Harry Jones had made an army of them. She'd seen the factory—she'd blown it up. It had taken twelve of them to take her down on Bellatrix. Sigrid wasn't going to let them take her again.
Forgetting her stealth, all of her training, Sigrid leapt to her feet and ran. Crashing through the brush, she gave little thought to the ruckus she was making. Her only thought was to run. Flee. Escape.
A new alert flashed in her HUD. That thing was after her. It was coming for her and it was gaining on her fast.
Reaching deep within herself, Sigrid mustered every ounce of her stamina, running as fast as she could. She didn't dare lead that thing back to Nuria. She'd kill them all. She had to lead her away. In her haste and panic, Sigrid failed to see the looping curl of an outstretched root. It caught her ankle, tripping her and sending her crashing to the ground. Clawing at the loose earth, Sigrid scrambled to her knees.
"You're much louder than I remember," a voice said from in front of her.
Sigrid scanned frantically about her. She couldn't see anything or anyone, and nothing showed on any of her sensors.
"Who are you? Show yourself."
"Who am I?" the voice said, and Sigrid heard the bitter laughter—it was from behind her this time. "The question is, do you know who you are, Sigrid Novak?" The voice came from one side, then the other. It was all around her. "Do you even know what you are?"
Sigrid spun, whirling toward the voice. Her fist came up raised, ready to strike—
Only to find herself knocked flat on her backside. She hadn't even seen the strike coming. The swinging roundhouse kick landed square on the side of her head. Her jaw ached, and her vision went black for a second. It felt like she'd been hit with a steel pipe.
Panting, sobbing, Sigrid stared up at the figure as it swirled in and out of focus. She shook her head, trying desperately to clear her vision. The figure stepped forward.
For a moment, the only thing she saw was the muzzle of the large-caliber recoilless aimed squarely at her forehead. Then, slowly, her eyes drew back to move up and along the arm until she saw the woman holding it. The slim-fitting top she wore left much of her scarred midriff exposed, while her black leggings and tall military boots highlighted a figure that was as lean and powerful as it was dangerous. But it was the girl's eyes that struck Sigrid most of all. They were deep brown, round and large. They looked almost black in the dying evening light.
How many nights had Sigrid lost herself staring into those eyes?
"S-Suko?"
Sigrid blinked twice. She had to shake her head and look again to be sure. But it was her. As impossible as it seemed, it was her. It was Suko.
"Suko? I-I don't believe it!" Scrambling to her feet, Sigrid rushed toward her, ready to throw her arms about her.
But Suko shoved her back, clubbing her on the neck with the butt of her recoilless and forcing her down. Sigrid stared up at her, confused, bewildered. With her thumb on the arming hammer of the recoilless, Suko pulled it back, cocking it, and Sigrid heard the hiss of the weapon powering up.
"Don't you move," Suko said. "Stay down—or I swear I will put you down forever."
CHAPTER TWENTY
Identify
Blood flowed freely from the wound on the side of Sigrid's head where Suko had clubbed her. She touched it with her hand and it came back sticky and crimson. Sigrid stared at it in dismay. It wasn't the blood that bothered her, it wasn't even the pain. It was that Suko had done this—her Suko. She'd hit her with such violent force as to come within a hairsbreadth of killing her. And as Sigrid stared up the length of the gun barrel pointed at her face, she was quite certain Suko meant to kill her still.
"I asked you," Suko said, "who are you?"
Sigrid was on her knees on the forest floor. Utterly confused and terrified, she shook her head. "Suko, you're frightening me."
"Who? I won't ask you again!"
"I don't understand! I don't know what you want! Suko, why are you doing this?"
Taking a knee in front of her, Suko grabbed her by the scruff of her collar and shook her. Sigrid cried out and tried to look away, but Suko braced both sides of her face between her hands; the cold metal of the recoilless against her cheek was a chilling reminder: Suko wouldn't hesitate to kill her.
In a staccato monotone, Suko said, "Tell me who you are!"
Sobbing and sucking in short breaths, Sigrid answered, "I'm-I'm Sigrid. I'm Sigrid. My-my name is Sigrid Novak. Suko, you know me!"
"I knew you," Suko said. "Once. But t
hat was a long time ago."
"Suko, please…!"
Ignoring the recoilless, Sigrid threw her arms around Suko's neck. She clamped on tight, holding to her like a drowning woman, for indeed she feared if she let go, it would be the end of her. Her cheeks were soaked with tears. Her nose ran freely, and her body shook with each ratcheted sob. She was terrified, though it wasn't dying that frightened her, but the fear that she knew exactly why Suko meant to do her harm. Sigrid hadn't forgotten her dream and the terrible, unforgivable things she'd done—none so terrible as blasting Suko in the chest, murdering her in cold blood.
Perhaps this was still that same nightmare. And if it was, then she was sure this would be the end.
A single red alert pulsed in Sigrid's HUD, strobing nearly as fast as her beating heart. Suko's grip on her was like a vice. Her finger tensed on the trigger. Suko was going to kill her.
Sigrid's PCM prompted her to action. Thousands of tactical scenarios were presented to her. Her choice was clear: Kill Suko, or be killed herself.
But killing Suko wasn't an option. She hadn't made her escape and come all this way to simply murder her lover. She couldn't do it. Even if it meant her own death.
Knowing this moment might be her last—ignoring the prompts from her PCM—Sigrid did something not listed in any of her tactical scenarios. She kissed Suko. Hard and full on the mouth. Suko's lips were cold, defiant. They stood firmly against her, as if refusing to let her in. Yet at the same time Sigrid felt Suko's grip on her relax. The gun was still pressed to her cheek, but her finger loosened on the trigger, and she let the hammer fall back.
In that moment, Sigrid sensed Suko's resolve to kill her waver, and she pressed her advantage.
"You know me, Suko. I'm Sigrid. I'm your Sigrid."
Through the blur of her tears, she saw that Suko was crying as well.
"You're not—"
"I am! Suko, it's me."
Suko shook her head. "But how…how can I be sure?"
"Because I love you. I love you, Suko. And you love me. I know you do. Please, Suko. Tell me what's going on!"
