Molly Fyde and the Land of Light tbs-2

by Hugh Howey

  Molly got comfortable and peered through her window, watching the guards load into the other shuttle. They looked like a small Marine contingent gearing up for war. Their shuttle would set off toward the train station to intercept Bodi’s group, which reportedly had refueled and turned around after hearing of Molly’s and Edison’s completion of the rite.

  The shuttle with Molly and her friends, meanwhile, would head directly for the city, meeting another shuttle to transfer some fuel, before proceeding on to a defense spaceport. The Circle members, two of which were related to Anlyn, would log the new Drenards into the planetary system—and they supposedly would be cleared to leave.

  Molly wondered how and where they would meet up with Anlyn and whether she was being protected from Bodi’s scheming. She also was having trouble believing they really would be allowed to fly away, not with so many people after them. Her trust of the Drenard people was on the wane.

  The driver snapped the door shut, locking out the wind, and took them around the shelter. He headed straight for the glowing city over the horizon.

  Molly had so many more questions for Dani, but the red bands had been taken, along with her ability to communicate. The frustration of not being able to speak, of having relied solely on human tongues and their wide adoption, fixed her resolve: she was going to learn some other languages. Maybe get her mother to teach her Drenard.

  She wondered if her mom had had a similar experience years ago and if that was why she had taken up the alien language.

  The shuttle lurched side to side in the oncoming breeze, the occupants swaying together. The sound of gusts roaring against the metal hull became deafening at times. Molly sat with Cole, their hands interlocked, her eyes fixed on the red box in the Circle member’s lap.

  Cole asked Edison how he was feeling, and Molly heard something about “meeting expectations” and “being up to spec.” She smiled at Walter, who was bugging his Questioner for a red band and pantomiming a complaint. One of the first bumps had spilled red juice down his new tunic, and he kept inquiring about a fresh one.

  After what felt like several hours, the tall buildings in the distance seemed no nearer than they had been. New, smaller buildings had come into view—so Molly knew they were approaching the horizon—it was just a testament to how far away the city lay. And how tall those buildings must be, stretching up since they couldn’t build out. The only structures out this far were tall towers with five blades—an ancient windmill farm. The rusting hulks hung against the black sky, monuments to an age before fusion power and fuel cells.

  “Seems like a lot of prime real estate,” Molly mused aloud, her forehead pressed to the glass.

  “They can’t build out here,” Cole told her.

  “Why not? Seems shady enough.”

  “You and Dani didn’t spend much time on planetary astronomy, did you?”

  “Ha. No. I spent our time together trying to convince him the Drenard treatment of women belittled them rather than honored them.”

  “Gods. I’m glad I wasn’t there for that one.”

  “Why? You just would’ve seen us staring at each other in silence. Well, with my arms waving now and then.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, you would’ve been miserable. But you would’ve been taking my side, right?”

  Cole sighed for effect. “I would’ve been saying whatever you wanted me to say, Madame Fyde.”

  Molly slapped at Cole’s shoulder playfully. “See? You sound just like them!”

  “See why you never learned about this planet? You can’t stay focused. Typical—”

  “You say anything gender-related, and my jabs are gonna turn into haymakers, buddy.”

  Cole held up his hands in mock surrender. “Can I tell you why they can’t build out here?”

  “I guess,” she said, her arms crossing in mock anger.

  “It’s because there are two Drenard stars. They have overlapping cones of light the planet swings through.”

  “So they have seasons?”

  Cole laughed at this. “Yeah, I guess. Summer and Summest.”

  Molly rolled her eyes.

  “It isn’t really seasons, not like we have. Dozens of our years go by before the two stars orbit each other and the planet lines up just right for the terminator to move. Then it’ll stay like that for dozens more years. There are probably Wadi shelters on the other side of the planet that you can’t get to right now ’cause they’re baking in the heat for another cycle.”

  “Wow.” Molly turned and gazed through the window, thinking on these cycles. “How much you wanna bet,” she asked Cole, “that all the old species on this planet were migratory at some point?”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  “Any ideas about where that water came from in those caves you were in?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to ask Dani about that. Probably condensation. If some of those tunnels go all the way to the cool side, you might get a convection current—”

  “Look!” Molly interrupted.

  It was the other shuttle, parked on a small rise and facing them, waiting. There was an armed Drenard male standing by the large vehicle, his tunics flapping in the breeze. He waved at their driver, who raised a hand in response. Their shuttle slowly pulled past the parked one and swerved to line up on the other side.

  Molly watched the Circle Members lean together and converse in low tones. Edison had his head against his window, softly snoring, while Walter ran down the aisle toward the rear glass so he could get a better view of the recharging process. The guard outside waved their driver back until the flattened sterns of both vehicles were just a meter apart, lined up for the energy transfer.

  “Should we step out and stretch our legs, see if we can help?” Cole asked.

  “I’d rather stay inside,” Molly said. She watched Walter press his metallic face to the rear of the shuttle, peering down. Beyond him, through both sets of glass, she could see several shapes moving in the other vehicle.

  “Besides,” she said, “something doesn’t feel—”

  She was about to say right, just as things started to go very wrong.

  Armed Drenard guards spilled out of the other shuttle and marched around toward theirs. One of the Circle members that had ridden with Molly’s bunch stood outside the door of their shuttle; he urged the soldiers forward, waving his blue arm frantically.

  “Cole—”

  “I see it.”

  “Edison, wake up!”

  Molly moved into the aisle and turned to the one armed guard they had on their side.

  The guard raised his lance.

  But not in the direction she’d hoped.

  And Molly finally saw just how wrong things were about to get.

  19

  The world slowed down, coming to a halt like a Drenard day. Molly saw Dani yelling at the official with the red box in his lap. The third Circle Member stood in the aisle, facing Molly’s group with his hands wide, palms out. Their driver watched from the front of the shuttle, his lance parallel to the floor and pointed back their way.

  Without bands, there was no way to ask anyone what was going on. Dani seemed furious about something. The other Questioner approached the front of the vehicle and the driver. Out of the corner of her eye, Molly could see the line of guards advancing up the side of their shuttle.

  What a perfect plan, she thought. The Circle members had sent Dani’s contingent of guards in one direction while they led them, defenseless, into a trap in the middle of nowhere. Before she could fully admire the scheming involved, the world around her burst back into motion. A cacophony of soothing sounds—Drenards arguing in their cooing tongue—rang out. Behind her, Molly could hear a fierce and throaty roar.

  “Easy, Edison,” she heard Cole say.

  Spinning in the aisle, she saw Cole, bent over the back of his seat, trying to keep Edison restrained. Walter remained by the back glass, but he was looking forward, trying to hiss someth
ing.

  He pointed, his arm quivering, at Molly.

  Or past her.

  She whirled around just as the driver’s lance arced out, cutting Walter’s Questioner in two. The upper half of the Drenard’s body kept going forward, arms flailing, while the lower half kicked back between the rows of seats. Both halves trailed ropes of gore, glistening wet with blood.

  Molly’s eyes burned from the bright flash. She felt someone grabbing her around her neck and looked down to see a blue arm across her chest.

  Through the haze, she watched Cole leap forward, wide-eyed and wild looking. Molly tried to tell him to not try anything, but in slow motion he and Edison started moving over the seats to launch a suicidal attack on the front of the bus. The Circle Member that had Molly pinned began dragging her to the front, cooing something in her ear.

  Her back was toward the danger: the guard in the front of the bus. She tried to wiggle around to see what he was doing, but the best she could manage was to look sideways. Her captor dragged her past Dani, who remained frozen in his seat, his arms up in the universal stance of submission. His eyes locked with Molly’s as she was pulled by. Then she saw him glance down at something—something ahead of him. It came into view as she was pulled closer to the front of the shuttle.

  The red box.

  The third Circle Member clutched it with one hand; his other one held a small device leveled at Dani, a gun of some sort.

  Molly reached up and grabbed the arms holding her across her chest. She gripped them as she tightened her stomach muscles, pulling her knees to her chin, her feet high off the ground. The Circle Member started pulling her forward faster now; she was almost out of range before she had time to act.

  She lashed out with both feet, aiming for that frustrating clasp. The kick drove the red box into the abdomen of the Circle Member.

  The air rushed out of the elder Drenard.

  And something else rushed out of the box.

  ••••

  The Wadi Thooo was free!

  She shot from her prison and under a ledge of some sort, looking for a dark place. The air was full of scents. Many of them. More than she had ever smelled in close proximity. Some were tendrils of fear, leading back to their source as vividly as colored columns of smoke. Other smells were bright arms of rage and deceit, smells the female Wadi knew well. Male smells. Powerful odors from big Wadi. But she’d fought plenty of large Wadi in her day. The males of her kind might grow large with age, but the females grew wise.

  And she was older than she looked in those ways.

  She kept her moisture tongue tucked in its pouch and flicked her scent tongue in wide patterns through the air. There was another smell here, fainter than the others, and new. Not as primal and dominant as those she’d known for so many cycles of the two lights.

  It was the good smell. A trace of kindness floating in the air, thin as a single ray of light and surrounded by all that reeking blackness given off by fear and rage.

  The Wadi stuck her head out from under the ledge and sniffed it all in, her tongue sampling the many wisps of mingling emotions, all wrapped around one another. There was much going on—much feeling—but she could see exactly where they all led. Could tease them apart like bright plumes of smoke emanating from holes in the rock.

  ••••

  Another bright flash erupted by Molly as the driver’s deadly lance lashed out again, this time in the direction of her friends. The bolt arced toward Cole and Edison, splitting between them and shattering the transparent shield out of the rear of the shuttle.

  Walter fell to the ground, showered with chunks of glass. Edison roared and grabbed his arm, smoke rising from his fur, but he and Cole renewed their push forward. Molly yelled for them to stop as Dani continued to struggle with the stunned Circle Member, trying to wrestle his small weapon away—

  Something rushed at Molly’s head, something small and fast. It pushed off her shoulder and went right by her ear. The blue arms clutching her chest flew away, pawing the air above her.

  Molly threw a high elbow, back into the stomach of her captor. She was the closest one to the front of the shuttle, so it was up to her to get to that guard. She needed to attack an armed male Drenard.

  Alone.

  She didn’t pause to think about it. Spinning around the Circle Member, she took three large steps, vaulted over the remains of the Questioner in the aisle, and threw herself at the driver.

  He brought the lance around from Cole and Edison to fend off the new threat.

  Molly crashed into the large blue arm holding the lance; it was like trying to tackle a marble column. The guard’s other hand came around and grabbed at her tunic. She found herself climbing a rock face, looking for purchase, kicking off a large blue knee and scampering toward the head high above.

  The guard seized one of her arms and wrenched it, filling her entire body with pain. Molly cried out, then looked up to see the Drenard sneering back down at her. Both combatants had open mouths—one in the effort of causing pain—the other in the resulting agony.

  Molly felt herself slipping, forced down by the strength in that one arm. The other brought the lance up to lash out at her two friends, threatening to cut them in half. Molly saw the handhold she needed but wasn’t sure if she could reach it. She lunged against gravity and the powerful blue grasp, stretched her body out, one arm extended as long as it could, her hand shaped into a hook.

  Three fingers went into the Drenard’s mouth; she pulled his jaw down with all her weight, could feel sharp teeth sinking down to the bones in her fingers, but they just improved her grip, her flesh hanging on a line of razors.

  The chin snapped down and another flash from the lance went wide, exploding through the side of the shuttle. Molly pulled herself up as the grip on her arm loosened, a confused shock rippling through her towering blue enemy. She pulled her other arm free and made a fist, her thumb out and stiffened. She drove it as hard as she could into the Drenard’s large eye, the only visible weakness on the alien’s massive frame.

  Warm fluid splashed back onto her hand and coursed down her arm. She pulled back to strike again when someone grabbed her from behind.

  “Watch out!”

  Cole pressed her flat as another shot flashed through the air, right where she’d been. She found herself sandwiched between the fallen Drenard and Cole, her cheeks crushed from both sides. Her eyes faced the shuttle steps where several guards held lances, trying to work their way aboard single file.

  Molly felt Cole roll off her and pull her away from the driver. Edison took their place on the prone guard and began doing something brutal with his claws.

  “Let me go!” Molly yelled, trying to fight off Cole, but her shoulder hurt too much.

  Another light flashed at the front of the shuttle. Molly spun, expecting to see Edison cut in half, but he was holding the driver’s lance, had it leveled at the open door. Smoke and screaming billowed in from outside.

  Cole stumbled backward; Molly pushed off him and ran forward.

  “Help Dani!” she shouted over her shoulder. She didn’t look back to see how that was going—there was too much she needed to do at the front of the shuttle. The guards outside still had them trapped, and in a vehicle that didn’t have enough fuel for an escape!

  Edison knelt on top of the dead driver, his lance pointed at the smoke by the door. Molly squeezed around him and threw herself in the driver’s seat. There were dozens of buttons and indicators on the dash; she knew Walter or Edison would be able to tell at a glance how to operate this thing—

  Then she saw something familiar. A single black handle rising out on the left side that looked like a standard flight control. Molly hoped logic guided Drenard design aesthetics and grabbed the joystick. Movement to her right distracted her—another guard making a charge on the shuttle, his lance raised and ready to lash out. He was almost in the door when Molly jerked back on the control stick.

  The shuttle lurched in reverse, driv
ing the jamb of the door into the guard, sending him spinning.

  No sooner had the shuttle shot into motion—it crashed to a dead stop, slamming violently against the rear of the shuttle behind them.

  Edison fell backward into the aisle, and Molly was nearly thrown to the ground. She spun out of the seat, dazed, and grabbed handfuls of Edison’s fur, helping him up.

  “The glass!” she shouted, pointing at the lance.

  “Acknowledged.” He lumbered back down the aisle, stepping over several dead Drenard. The sight of so much violence and blood stunned Molly, but the sounds of guards rallying outside forced her back into action. She took a step toward the rear—

  And something flew up from one of the dead Drenards and latched onto her tunic. Molly nearly fell back in panic before she realized what it was: the Wadi. The creature pulled herself up Molly’s tunic and curled around her neck.

  Behind them, feet stomped into the shuttle. Molly saw Cole helping Dani, who looked injured but otherwise okay. She ran to them, urging them both toward the rear, where another burst of light flashed, followed by an explosion of glass. Molly looked up to see Edison tossing Walter from one shuttle to the other. The Glemot turned to beckon them forward, looking incredibly fearsome in his tunic, the long metal lance waving about.

  Molly and Cole pulled Dani with them as they struggled toward the rear. Molly heard a lance crackle—a now familiar and sickening sound. A bench to her side exploded in a cloud of fabric and stuffing, the hair on the back of her neck standing at attention from the static discharge. Ahead of her, Edison made to retaliate, but there wasn’t a clear shot. He waited until Molly, Cole, and Dani reached him, then finally fired an electrical blast forward, providing some cover.

  Dani went through the abutting windows first, stepping over the matching and crushed jambs. Cole helped Molly through next, yelling at Edison to get a move on. Molly didn’t waste any time. The guards outside could see through the glass and tell what they were doing. She saw two of them race along the outside of the fuel shuttle, trying to get to the open front door.