by Cary Caffrey
"Suko, get out of the way!"
"Sigrid, don't."
Lady Hitomi raised a warning hand, trying to grab hold of her. Suko ignored her, shoving the last of the guests aside, standing right in front of her.
"Sigrid, this isn't you. You don't have to do this!"
But Suko was wrong. She did. She didn't have a choice. "Suko, I can't stop this. Please! Get out of here!"
"No. I won't. I told you, I won't leave you. Not ever. Not now."
"Suko, you don't understand—"
"I understand everything. I love you."
Sigrid was struggling—she was losing it. Her finger tightened on the trigger and there was absolutely nothing she could do to stop it. Suko knew this too—she had to! Yet she stepped closer, so close that the muzzle of Sigrid's recoilless was only a centimeter from her face.
"Let it go. If this is what it takes to end this, then do it. Do it, Sigrid! Shoot!"
Shoot! Kill me! End your pain!
"No!" Sigrid screamed.
"Step aside, Ms. Tansho."
Sigrid didn't turn. She didn't dare move for fear of shooting her beloved. But behind her, marching toward her, she felt the unmistakable presence of her mistress. Emily Gillings-Jones swept through the crowd, coming to stand by Sigrid, with eight of the Independent soldiers at her side. All of their weapons were raised and pointed at Suko, Hitomi and any of the guests who attempted to move closer.
"You're delaying, Sigrid. You're disobeying. You know how I get when you disobey."
"But, mistress, I-I can't!"
"Do it!"
The pain hit her like a scythe carving into her, cutting her open, and Sigrid crumpled to her knees, crying out a throat-churning scream. Suko lunged for Emily—Hitomi reached out, grabbing for her.
"No, Suko! She'll kill her," Hitomi said, warding her off. "She'll destroy her. They're linked. You can't help her. She must finish this herself."
Emily Gillings-Jones smiled back at her. "Brave words, Hitomi—coming from the woman who abandoned her. You abandoned Sigrid, just as you abandoned me. Just as you abandoned all of us."
"I didn't abandon you, Emily. I tried to save you."
"Save me? Is that what you call it? You tried to have me terminated—all of us. All of us failures and incompatibles. Though I suppose I can't blame you. We must have been a terrible…inconvenience."
"My board ordered your termination. Not I. I made sure you were cared for. All of you. I made sure you lived."
"Lived? You call being hooked up to banks of machines for more than fifteen years living? You abandoned me, Hitomi. You left us all to rot."
"We can talk about this, Emily."
"No, Hitomi, we can't. The time for talk ended six years ago when I woke up. It's fitting, don't you think, that I was saved by your protégé. She saved me, and now she will finish you. She will end you, Lady Hitomi Kimura."
"Then she will have the courage to do what you could not. It's all right, Sigrid. This will all be over soon."
On her knees, doubled over, Sigrid stared at the recoilless on the ground before her. "Hitomi, please. You can't ask me to do this."
"It's all right. Whatever happens, it's all right. Sigrid, listen to me—look at me!"
Somehow, Sigrid managed it; shaking, trembling on her hands and knees, she stared up at her.
"You're not responsible for any of this. You didn't do this. I did. I failed you. Do you hear me? I failed you. You were my greatest success, Sigrid. You were my creation. You were my student and my protégé. But you are so much more than that. You were always more. You are my daughter, Sigrid. You are my daughter and you are loved."
While the hatred emanating from Emily was powerful, twisting and corrupting, a new presence emerged at its side, eroding that hatred, breaking it down and tearing it from her. Emily's hate was losing its hold. Sigrid could feel it slipping away. Something was pushing it aside, beating it down, rising to stand against it and break its hold over her.
Love.
It was there and it was real. Not forced upon her, but a force to be sure. And it was offered to her freely. It came without price or expectation. All she had to do was reach out and take it.
Slowly, Sigrid rose from her knees. Her hair had fallen in front of her face and she pushed it back. More than three hundred pairs of eyes stared at her, waiting for what would happen next. Sigrid saw none of them.
This time when she raised her weapon, her hand was steady and calm. This time, it was pointed at Emily Gillings-Jones.
"Sigrid? What are you doing? Kill her!"
Along with the order came renewed waves of pain, agony so raw it threatened to strip her mind bare. Sigrid brushed it all aside.
"You're finished," Sigrid said. "It's over. You've lost."
Emily's eyes widened in horror at the simple realization that her control over Sigrid was gone. "Sigrid, I order you—"
"Sigrid is her own woman," Hitomi said. "And she will make her own choices."
"I believe I just did," Sigrid said.
Screaming her fury, Emily Gillings-Jones lunged for her. Sigrid's finger tightened on the trigger, squeezing firmly. The 18 mm round caught Emily six millimeters above her right eye. Her momentum carried her into Sigrid's arms, but the life was already gone from her body.
The quiet that came over Sigrid made her shudder. It was like a train tilting off its rails and suddenly righting itself. The whispered voices were silent. The link was broken, and the bond between them faded as quickly as the life from Emily's eyes. Holding her in her arms, Emily looked to her exactly as she had in that flash of a memory from six years ago—except this time there were no machines to save her. Emily Gillings-Jones was dead. Sigrid Novak was free.
For a moment, nothing happened. The only sounds were the roar of flames licking up the walls. But then Sigrid heard it. It started as a low and mournful howl, turning quickly to a scream of rage.
Harry Jones stood on the landing above.
Perhaps it was a remnant of her link with Emily, but as she stared up at him, she understood. After all this time, she had a grasp of who this man was, and why he was driven to pursue her and do the things he did. It was all for her. It was all for Emily and his love for her.
And now she was gone. Nothing would matter for Harry Jones. His beloved wife was dead.
"Kill them!" Harry Jones said. "Kill them all!"
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
End Game
Hearing the commands of their master Harry Jones, thirty-seven Independent soldiers descended on the guests corralled in their midst. It was a massacre. Screams of terror rose through the hall only to be silenced by the hail of ordnance that fell down on them.
Diving, Sigrid tackled Lady Hitomi to the marbled floor, cushioning her fall even as she shielded her with her body. The only thing that saved them were the dozens of unfortunate dignitaries, plutocrats and hangers-on who stood between her and the firing soldiers. Raising their hands, they cried out for mercy. Dozens fell. And still more bullets came.
Forever at her side was Suko. She was on one knee and firing back with a large and powerful recoilless. One by one the Independents fell in quick succession. Those who came too close tasted the steel of her sword. And she wasn't alone. Flanked by his warrior soldiers, Colonel Bhandari and Victoria charged into the mix. They came in from behind, stealthily and quick. Not one of the opposing soldiers saw them coming. These Independents were about to learn what it was to face the sons and daughters of the Chagatai clan and this strange machine girl from Bellatrix.
In Victoria's hand, Sigrid saw the long silver chain-whip arcing out. On Bellatrix, that weapon had struck terror into her when she was its target. She didn't envy the Independents who faced her now. The heavy, weighted ball on its end bludgeoned a row of six soldiers, while the razor-sharp barbs carved through four more. They scrambled to get out of her way, but Victoria came at them again and again, swinging the whip in an unrelenting series of arcs. One unlucky soul found himself w
rapped in its wiry embrace. Victoria pulled back hard on the chain, opening him up from neck to hip.
She could only imagine what was in Victoria's heart. Victoria, perhaps more than Sigrid, knew what it was like to be used by the Independents, to be nothing more than a machine, a tool, something to be used and discarded. With each swing of her barbed whip, Victoria exacted her revenge.
From her side, Suko called to her. "Sigrid, let's go!" She was fighting a retreating action, doing her best to keep the surrounding soldiers at bay as more of the Independents poured into the burning hall.
But Sigrid couldn't go. Not yet. On the landing above them, Sigrid saw the thin form of Harry Jones disappear into the smoke, vanishing, as if before her eyes.
"Go!" Sigrid said. "Take Hitomi. I'll follow you out. There's something I need to take care of first."
Lady Hitomi Kimura clamped a hand firmly on her arm. "Let him go, Sigrid. He's not worth it."
But she was wrong. He was worth it. Harry Jones had killed Mei and Tara. His lies killed Sara. And he was the key to her memories.
"It's not Jones I want, mistress. It's what he stole. I want it back. I want my life back."
Extracting herself from Hitomi's grasp, ignoring Suko's shouts of protest, Sigrid ran. She hadn't forgotten the words of the courier nor the promise of his mysterious patron: "Find Jones. Find him, and bring him back alive." As distasteful as letting him live was, if it meant removing the barriers from her mind, if it meant getting her life back, then it was a deal she could learn to live with.
Of course, she had to find him first.
Rushing after him up the winding stairs, she arrived on the landing only to be greeted by a raging inferno. Entire sections of walls had been blown away; fires burned everywhere, climbing the walls and rolling across the ceiling. The corridor was filled with greasy black smoke. Breathing was out of the question and it was only her optical implants that allowed her to see. But this was precisely what Sigrid was built for. She was in her element, and no fire was going to slow her pursuit.
She was tracking Jones even now, and his signal blazed brilliantly in her HUD. The signal blinked its presence not thirty meters from her. It wasn't moving, she realized. He was waiting for her.
She had him.
Sigrid charged ahead. She rounded the corner of the fiery corridor, ready to face him—when something extraordinary happened. The tracking signal split into three new blips.
"What the…?"
Worse, those three signals split into nine—and then twenty-seven. Twenty-seven separate signals. And then all twenty-seven dashed off, exploding in different directions, moving impossibly fast, impossible to track, even for her.
Twenty-seven?
With fires burning around her, Sigrid stood perfectly still. Slowly, her brain was processing what was happening. Harry Jones was going to get away.
~ - ~
Colonel Bhandari and his warriors poured it on. Firing relentlessly, they kept the surrounding Independents suppressed, driving them back. This gave Suko and Victoria just enough cover to hoist the Lady Hitomi Kimura by her arms and lead her from the burning palace. They had only taken a handful of steps when the first of the burning beams fell from the ceiling. It crashed to the ground not a meter from them and sent up an explosion of sparks and ash.
Suko looked up in time to see the domed ceiling sag. The entire structure groaned its protests, heaved and then collapsed. Doing the only thing she could, Suko scooped Hitomi into her arms and ran. Eight long strides took her across the marbled floor, over the bodies of the dead and dying, the burning rubble and debris. Her final leap sent her crashing through the shattered remains of a great plate-glass window overlooking the courtyard beyond.
She emerged from the smoke, landing hard and skidding across the ice, somehow staying upright, with Hitomi still in her arms. The others were right behind her. Victoria came first, diving through and crashing and rolling to the ground. The colonel's warriors followed next, half-carrying, half-shielding Nuria between them. The colonel was the last out, leaping through the shattered glass even as the entire palace appeared to implode, collapsing in on itself in an enormous gush of flame and smoke.
More fires burned in the courtyard outside. Victoria and the colonel had done a number on the place with their charges. The palace grounds looked more like a battleground than a stately resort. Scores of Cabal and Independent soldiers lay dead around her. But there were survivors as well. Most of the Independent force remained intact, and they were hastily regrouping to form a firing line from which no one would escape.
Three rounds from Suko's recoilless took care of the ones in closest proximity. But there were more on the way. They kept low, steadily moving in while staying hidden behind the cover of the marbled walls and the heaped banks of freshly plowed snow.
Suko emptied another magazine, more out of frustration than anything else. Their situation was deteriorating quickly. The three thousand garrisoned soldiers of the Cabal were descending on the palace grounds. They were too late to save their masters, but they could still wreak havoc on the Independent invaders. If Suko, Hitomi and Victoria happened to be trapped between them, they didn't seem to care.
A stone statue shattered under a barrage of ordnance, spraying them with splinters of rock and dust.
"Our position here is not tactically sound," Victoria stated, quite unnecessarily.
"I know!"
She was right, but Suko doubted the two forces would cease fire long enough for them to make their escape. The battle was only heating up. Outside the walls, Suko scanned an entire squadron of Cabal tanks moving to form a perimeter, cordoning the entire area off. Eight Starlings flew overwatch in the snowy skies above them. They broke off into two formations, strafing the Independent forces along the ground.
One of them must have seen them. It slowed and swung away from the battle, coming to hover above them. Blinding floodlights caught them in the glare, and a voice boomed out from a loudspeaker embedded in the craft's belly.
"Halt! Don't move!"
Suko raised her recoilless.
"Wait!" Hitomi said. With a cautioning hand, she had Suko lower her weapon. "Not even you can fight that, my dear."
"If you think I'm letting them take us prisoner—"
"Never," Hitomi said. "But there may be another way out of this."
"Diplomacy?" Colonel Bhandari asked.
"Perhaps," Hitomi said. "After all, I am an honored guest. They won't kill me. At least, I hope."
"They might," Victoria said. "Once they figure out who we are—and what we did to their master's palace." She wagged a thumb back over her shoulder. "I think this is beyond a fixer-upper."
"With respect, Lady Kimura," Colonel Bhandari said, "there might also be alternatives to diplomacy."
The Starling drifted lower. The hot jet wash from its thrusters blasted down on them, while two more fireteams of Cabal soldiers hurried their way.
"Prayer, Colonel?" Hitomi said. "If you're suggesting divine intervention, I should warn you, I've never been one to believe in angels."
"My matriarch has been called many things," the colonel said, "but Lady Godelieve is no angel. She is, however, renowned for her preparation and planning. She believes in…contingencies. With your indulgence?"
"By all means."
Raising his arm, the colonel swiped the comm unit strapped to his wrist, activating it. With a gloved finger he tapped out a twenty-character sequence and hit the execute button. Flashed and encoded, the preprogrammed signal went out.
Hitomi gave him a sideways glance. "I saw what you sent, Colonel. 'Attack Plan: Night Witch'?"
Colonel Bhandari shrugged, though he grinned as well. "As a code word, it seemed appropriate. Don't worry, milady. Our people will understand its meaning."
A low rumbling grew in the distance. It was quiet at first, though it grew quickly in volume. Like an avalanche, it grew in force and intensity until it shook the ground where they lay. Suko's sensors pick
ed up the new targets. Twenty-four heavy transports on approach. They burst over the surrounding peaks, sweeping down over the mountain and moving quickly toward them. They kept low, flying only meters off the deck. They were Kingfishers, troop transports, and they were flying the colors of the Consortium.
The Cabal Starlings hovering over them had no choice but to turn and engage the newcomers. Small, light and agile, the Starlings sped toward them, descending quickly on the lumbering transports. But the troop transports hadn't come alone. Flying escort were a squadron of Thunderhawks. These gunships were predators, and the sight of the eight attacking Starlings only whet their appetites. They feasted on them, making quick work of the smaller craft, digging their talons in deep before turning their attentions on the forces below, Cabal and Independents alike.
"I shall have to meet this magistrate of yours," Hitomi said. "She seems a most intriguing person."
~ - ~
Ignoring the smoke, the heat and the rising flames, Sigrid kept a careful watch on the twenty-seven retreating signals. One of those fleeing red blips was Harry Jones. But which one? She had to pick the right one, and she had to do it fast.
Fighting the urge to chase madly after them, Sigrid forced herself to work the problem. Everything Harry Jones had worked for was lost. He'd lost Sigrid, but more importantly, he'd lost his wife. His beloved Emily was dead, and it was all Sigrid's fault.
That left one of two possibilities. Jones would come at her hard. He would want revenge. He'd want to kill her.
Sigrid dismissed the idea instantly. Trying to kill her himself was suicide. Whatever Harry Jones was, he was no fool—and he was no warrior, either. He was a master at disappearing, losing himself amongst the crowds. Sigrid might be able to disappear completely, but Jones had the greater power of being able to be seen, but never being noticed. That left only one possibility.
He's running.
It was the only thing that made sense. Jones would run, live to fight another day, and then he would come at her from strength. And if he was running, then there was only one way out of Portillo: the tunnel. The winding tunnel that led down the mountain. If Jones made it there, he would be lost to her forever.
