by J G Cressey
Then came a mesmerising sight. Seeming to tower above him, Melinda looked every bit the Amazon of myth: incredibly beautiful and entirely formidable.
Quite unlike the synthetic that she’d just launched through the air, Melinda’s face was far from impassive. Cal could see anger there, which, as she looked down upon him, turned to undeniable concern.
Very nearly human.
As his vision began to fade, Cal recalled something his young friend Viktor had said when they’d first met, the words sounding in a loop in the back of his mind. My Melinda could destroy those pathetic synthetics with one arm tied behind her back. As he watched Melinda leap over him, he had no doubt the boy was about to be proven right. He had an overwhelming urge to laugh, but there was no chance of that now. As he slipped into unconsciousness, however, there was definitely something close to a smile lingering on his bruised and battered face.
Chapter Forty-Seven
TIME TO RUN
Laurence was finding it hard to breathe. The shoulders of the Carcarrion carrying him were repeatedly slamming into his gut and chest—not that he was complaining. As the alien leapt across the rocks, Laurence did his best to lift his lolling head. Everything was a blur. Multi-colored pulse blasts streaked through the air. Carcarrions leaping, diving, clawing, biting. Crabs, huge bloody crabs, stomping and snipping off limbs. A big metal spider, a rotating gun on its back creating a circle of destruction. More pulse blasts. White dreadlocks. Gray war paint. Bared fangs. Humans, lots of humans, fighting, shouting, cheering.
Feeling his brain could take no more, Laurence dropped his head, closed his eyes, and held on tight.
“Jumper, here! Over here, bro, run.”
Toker’s shout was distant, but somehow, Jumper managed to pluck it out of the mad din. He continued to bound over the rocks, his breath pumping through his lungs like some sort of steam-powered cyborg. Without slowing his pace, he tried to hone in on the sound and catch sight of his young friend. His vision was overwhelmed with blaster fire, battling aliens, and dropships coming down in dangerously rapid descents. On top of this was the fact that all his running was causing disgusting globs of yellow slime—remnants of the giant crab he’d killed—to drip from his hair into his face and eyes. Using a filthy sleeve, he did his best to wipe it away and was partially successful in clearing his vision. Just as well too because at that moment, a Carcarrion sprung from behind a rock not far ahead. Seeing no gray war paint, Jumper swung his bliss rifle back, ready to strike a club-like blow, the weapon’s darts having long since run out. Locking its malevolent, pale eyes on the weapon, the Carcarrion raised its clawed fists and lunged forward to meet the attack. But it didn’t come. Jumper had rolled beneath the lunge and was already continuing his speedy path across the rocks, safe in the knowledge that the alien could never match his speed.
Once again, he scanned the terrain for his young blond friend.
“Here, Jumper. Over here!”
The shouts were definitely closer, but still, Jumper couldn’t spot him. What he did see, however, was Viktor’s mechanical combat spider, or at least what was left of it. The metallic beast looked as though it had been half crushed, four of its long legs curled up tight, the remaining four flailing while the multi-barrelled swivel blaster attempted to spew out non-existent rounds. Jumper leaped over the defeated machine and continued on. Not far ahead, he saw swarms of people pouring into the dropships. As they boarded, the armed survivors were offering cover fire. Distressingly late, the escape was finally concluding as planned.
A blue bolt of light streaked through the sky high above Jumper’s head. For a moment, he ignored its existence, then its likely source dawned on him: the Star Splinter. He slowed his pace, wiped again at the slime invading his eyes, and scanned the dark skies for the next blue streak… There, emanating dead ahead. Or perhaps slightly to his left. Because of the Star Splinter’s ghosting net, the blue cannon blast had appeared to materialize out of thin air. Judging by its height, Jumper guessed the ship had already landed. Good lad, Viktor.
“Jumper, run, damn it.”
This time, Jumper knew exactly which direction to look and spotted Toker almost instantly. Taking his young friend’s advice, he summoned every last ounce of the Xcel left in his system and ran as if his life depended on it, which of course it did.
Numerous individual Carcarrions came at him as he closed the gap to the Star Splinter. He evaded every one of them, all without swinging a single blow. He’d always had a talent for ducking and diving, and with the Xcel in his system, he was a near impossible catch.
He was close now, close enough to see Toker running toward him, close enough to see the warning on his young friend’s face. Dodging to his left, he twisted in mid-air, came down in a crouch, and skidded to a halt on the scree. Two giant crabs, each with at least three Carcarrion drones on their wide backs, were coming at him at an incredible pace. Barely having time to register their presence, a flash of blue sliced into their ranks. The crabs exploded in a shower of yellow ichor, and bits of Carcarrion drones flipped through the air in a high arch.
Thanks, kid.
Jumper didn’t hang around to see the debris hit the rocks. Instead, he turned and ran toward Toker, ran towards the Star Splinter, ran towards his ticket off this damned hell hole.
Chapter Forty-Eight
SURVIVORS
The first thing Cal saw was a clear, coiled tube sticking out of his arm. His eyes followed the tube to a white box full of bright, blinking lights and low-pitched beeps. Other tubes coiled out of the machine. Sluggishly, Cal followed their paths; they all led to other arms, other people laying on white beds, just like him. His whole body felt numb, and he had the queer sensation that he was hovering in mid-air.
He could hear activity. With an effort, he lifted his head and saw the familiar sight of The Orillian’s medical facility. The large, D-shaped room had been empty the last time he’d been in it. This time, it was anything but. The entire space was jam-packed with beds, people, and monitoring equipment. The vast majority of those people were in a similar position to himself, horizontal and immobile. Some, however, were apparently uninjured and on their feet, weaving their way around the beds, leaning over the patients, and tweaking monitoring equipment. Similar bustle was visible through the wide windows set high within the curved portion of the room.
The facility’s occupants weren’t limited to humans. There were a number of Carcarrions dotted about too, their dark forms stark against the gleaming whiteness. Cal’s eyes drifted toward two of them, who were close by. Both were injured, their dried, purple blood bright where it mingled with ash war paint. Between the two hulking aliens stood a skinny, deeply tanned man sporting a mass of white, dreadlocked hair. Cal blinked. An odd trio.
A familiar, low whirring noise tugged at his attention. He looked to the far end of the room, where a pool hoist was lowering two people while two others were simultaneously being raised. Cal peered through the mass of beds until he caught sight of the shimmering, black surface of the healing pool. The sight of it was almost hypnotic. As he stared at it, he half expected Kaia’s beautiful, pale face to break its surface. But there was no chance of that now.
The numbness he felt was beginning to fade, and in its place came an increasingly intense pain. The floating feeling was also fading, leaving him to the mercy of gravity, a broken body and an only partially forgiving bed. A machine near his feet began to beep, louder and higher-pitched than the others. The noise made his ears ring. He tried to ignore it and continued to take in his surroundings. A familiar face caught his eye; Eddy was laying three beds over, her eyes lightly closed. The girl’s hair was no more than a layer of black stubble, and her face was a patchwork of small healing patches. Cal also saw a familiar tangle of blond hair on the far side of her bed. Toker was slouched on a chair, his face pressed into the mattress.
Eddy had lost her right arm. There was a healing cap on the stump that Cal knew would do little more than seal the wound a
nd help minimize phantom pains.
“There’ll be no fixing that wound, I’m afraid.”
Cal turned to see a young man, maybe mid-twenties, who had approached the foot of his bed and was looking toward Eddy.
“That black liquid is pretty incredible stuff, but it doesn’t regrow limbs.” The young man turned to Cal and gave him a half smile before turning his attentions to the beeping machine.
Without saying a word, Cal looked back toward Eddy and Toker. It was hard to feel sadness about her lost limb; seeing them both alive filled him with a relief too great to leave room for anything else.
“Still, that magic black pool certainly did you a world of good,” the young man continued. “According to that blonde synthetic, you were hanging onto life by a thread when you went in there.” Finally, the machine stopped its infernal beeping. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re still in a hell of a state, but you’re stable, and that’s what counts. We’ll get you back in there once the others have been stabilized.” The man’s voice was cheery, but it seemed a struggle.
“Ju…Jump…er.” The word didn’t leave Cal’s mouth easily, like forcing treacle through a sieve.
“You’ll have trouble speaking, I’m afraid. Your jaw is still partially broken, and you’re on enough drugs to topple a horse. If it’s your tall, black friend you’re asking for, he’s making his way over here now.”
Cal tried to follow the young man’s line of sight, but his neck wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he studied the man. He was clean-shaven and wore an immaculate white coat, but his face was gaunt, hair roughly cut short, and despite his youth, his eyes had a haunted edge—the look of a man who’d spent months in a living hell.
Suddenly, Cal was confronted by a tall stranger…no…Jumper. The afro was gone. Just like Eddy, all that covered his old friend’s head was a thin layer of stubble.
“Good to see you awake, Cal,” Jumper said, giving him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“You’ll not have long,” the young man informed him. “The drugs will take effect very quickly.”
Jumper nodded without taking his eyes off Cal. “How you feeling?”
“A little…pissed…off.”
Jumper didn’t laugh at that, just nodded his understanding.
“Viktor?”
“He’s fine,” Jumper replied quickly. “You’d have been proud of him. You’d have been proud of them all.” He glanced across at Toker and Eddy. “They fought hard, saved a lot of lives. And they gave those invading bastards something to think about before the dropships arrived.”
“I’m sorry…there were—”
“I know,” Jumper interrupted him, saving him the effort of the words. “Viktor showed me everything on the lab’s security feed.”
“Took Kaia.”
“There’s no way you could have saved her. No one could have. It was a bloody miracle you managed to activate the dropships let alone survive those synthetics. Every soul on this ship and the starship following owes you their lives, Cal.” Jumper gave a brief grin. “We’re just damn lucky you’re such a bloody relentless bastard.”
Cal tried to shrug, but his body only half obeyed. “Thanks for…Melinda…dead without her.”
Jumper nodded. “I just wish that mosquito ship had been faster.” Then he shook his head. “Or I wish I’d sent her sooner. Hell, I wish a lot of things.” He rubbed at his stubbly head, and his eyes strayed towards Eddy. “I tell you, Cal, I’m not overly keen on being put in charge of anyone but myself.”
Cal managed a very small nod of understanding. “Must been…chaos.”
“Yes.” Jumper turned back to him. “I saw the recordings from your Infiltrator too. Saw the inside the Insidion base. Not what I expected.”
“Ag… Agreed.”
“It’s as if this is all a game to them. A sport.”
Cal could feel the drugs starting to reclaim him.
“And if Kaia’s theories are right,” Jumper continued, “we mightn’t have even seen them yet. Not the real them at any rate—”
“How many?” Cal managed to interject. “How…many saved?”
“Of course, sorry.” Jumper looked down and paused a moment before answering. “Half… Almost half. The others died fighting.”
The two men went silent for a moment.
“A good deal of our Carcarrion allies made it too. I’m not sure how many they lost.”
Cal could feel himself slowly slipping back into unconsciousness. It was a welcome feeling. Before he went under, however, he managed to mutter one last thing. “Kaia… She’s…not dead.”
Jumper nodded almost as though he’d been fully expecting the words. “I know, Cal. I know.”
Eddy looked pale and incredibly fragile lying on the large bed. Her shaved hair had barely grown at all since Cal had seen her five days previously. She was breathing steadily, and her eyes were closed, eyelids hiding the wildness within. At that moment, all Cal could see was a young, innocent girl. He looked up at Toker, who was standing over the bed, staring at Eddy, anxiety clear on his face. He was rubbing at his neck, and he kept throwing Cal and Jumper worried glances.
“She’ll be awake any moment now.” The voice was that of a middle-aged woman, one of the few military refugees with enough medical experience to aid the injured. “Do you want me to stay and help explain about her arm?”
Instinctively, Cal glanced at Jumper then said, “No, that’s okay. Thanks though.”
The woman gave them a warm smile then moved off toward another bed. Watching her walk away, Cal caught sight of someone being hoisted out of the inky depths of the healing pool.
“He looks a bit like you, don’t you think?”
Cal turned to see that Jumper was also looking towards the pool.
“But he’s a little skinnier.”
With a raised eyebrow, Cal turned back as Laurence Decker stiffly transferred from the hoist to a bed. “He wasn’t always so slight.”
“I guess months spent on a prison planet changes a man.”
Cal nodded. “More than you know.”
“She’s waking… I think she’s waking up.” Toker’s voice was little more than a whisper, but it was loud enough to attract Cal’s and Jumper’s attention. Cal used his crutches to shuffle forward slightly. Toker was right; the rousing drugs were doing their job and stirring the girl from her long, induced sleep.
As Eddy’s eyes flickered open, her look of confusion was almost instantaneous. Slowly, she turned her head and gazed briefly at each of them in turn. “Did we win?”
“We did…okay,” Jumper answered. “All considering. How you feeling, kid?”
Eddy blinked a few times. “J man, where the hell’s your hair got to?” she asked, ignoring his question.
Instinctively, Jumper reached up and rubbed his head. “I, um, well, I got a little too close to the slimy innards of the enemy. When it dries, the damn stuff sets hard as rock.”
Screwing up her nose, Eddy turned to Cal. “Geeze, Cal, you’re lookin’ pretty banged up.”
Cal tried his best to shoot her a lopsided grin. “Well, that’s what happens when you piss off a synthetic.”
Eddy screwed up her nose again, staring at him like she could see right through his forced smile. Then she continued to look at them each in turn. “What’s goin’ on? Why you all lookin’ so flippin’ sad? An’ what’s up with you, blondie? You look like your butt’s been got at by a giant pincer ant.”
Toker opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He coughed and tried again. “Well, er, we’re…we were worried…you…there was…” He shook his head, swallowed hard, and looked imploringly over at Cal.
“I’m afraid you were injured, Eddy, during the fighting.”
“Yeah?” Eddy said, continuing to look back and forth between Cal and Toker.
Eventually, she followed Toker’s line of sight, and her eyes locked onto the healing cap covering the stump of her missing right arm. “My arm’s gone,” she said in a sma
ll, rather bewildered voice. “Where’d my arm go?” she asked, her gaze not shifting from the space where her missing limb should have been.
“It was one of those giant crabs,” Jumper explained. “Like the one you managed to kill.”
“Bastard snuck up on you,” Toker added, his voice far from steady. “Don’t worry though, Ed. Viktor’s gonna…Viktor’s gonna…” his words faltered as Eddy looked up at him, tears brimming in her big eyes.
Viktor took a step toward the bed. “Hey, Eddy. What Toker’s doing a pretty crappy job of explaining is that I’m gonna build you a new arm. A cybernetic, nano assisted prosthetic limb actually.”
Eddy turned her glistening eyes towards the boy, her expression suggesting she wasn’t really understanding his words. Cal could sympathize. It was a huge thing to take in, particularly with a drug-addled brain.
“I’ve already started working on it,” Viktor continued, suddenly eager as he turned to Melinda. The synthetic woman passed him a long, white box. “I took the dimensions of your left arm already, see. Then I started building the basic cybernetic skeleton. It still needs loads of work of course: tendon shifters, sensory pads, fiber optics, and of course sufficient tubing for the nano threads plus all the synth-flesh too, but the basic structure’s there.”
Eddy turned to Cal, confusion still evident on her tear-streaked face.
The sight made Cal feel like spilling some tears himself. “Viktor’s making you a cybernetic arm, Eddy. Like a synthetic’s arm.”
Viktor nudged Toker out of the way and, setting the box down on Eddy’s bed, opened it up like he was presenting the girl with a prize. Eddy awkwardly leaned over to stare at the cybernetic limb contained within.
