He turned from the ocean to survey the transport float. It was crowded with strapped-down vehicles, strapped-down equipment and, most of all, people. Thousands of soldiers, hundreds of metahumans, checking gear, going over operations orders, joking and chatting, or sleeping, but all tethered to the flat “float” that would be their transportation to the Thulian ship. It was a scene he was familiar with: the calm chaos before a battle, where everyone did their best to seem unconcerned. It comforted Georgi to see how some things never changed. The weapons, while more efficient than ever, were essentially the same. The men that wielded them were similar; the training was better, and they knew more about how things worked, the theories behind war, than at any other time in history. But, at the core, a soldier had a singular purpose: to take the fight to the enemy.
Georgi’s life, while not simple by any measure, suited him perfectly. A soldier in the Red Army during the Great Patriotic War, captured by the Nazis, and then experimented on and locked away in a frozen state in a forgotten bunker until the early nineties, he had stayed static while the world moved on without him. Still, he had adapted, and fell back to the one thing that gave him purpose: service. Communism had given way to capitalism, the Second World War to the Cold War and now to the war against the Thulians. The circumstances did not concern him, so much as how he could best help his fellow man. Here, about to fight a vastly superior enemy with insurmountable odds stacked against him…he felt at home. No matter what happened, he knew that he was doing what he had always been meant to do.
He heard Pavel clomping up to him before he saw him. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, turning back to the ocean. “Old Bear.”
“Comrade.” Bear was clearly displeased by something. “Is nowhere to warm my food, Georgi. Am not being allowed to make fire, and is no microwave.” He held up a single can of ravioli, grimacing at it. “Is inhuman, nyet?”
“It is inhuman to call that food, Old Bear.” He sighed, finally facing the cyborg. “Today is going to be a good day, I think.”
Bear cocked his head to the side, regarding his friend. “You are an odd man, Georgi. And a lousy karaoke singer. But, da, I think you are right.” He took in a lungful—whatever qualified as lungs for Pavel, at least—of ocean air, exhaling contentedly. “I believe the Commissar is about to address the assembled troops. We should be in attendance.”
The surface they were standing on lurched a little, more seawater sloshed over the leading edge, and the “breeze” created by the fact they were moving increased to a “wind.” Georgi looked back at where the shore lay, but it was already out of sight below the horizon. He had been dubious about being towed by a giant woman, but it appeared she could make substantial speed. Even with all we know, there are still wonders out there…“angels,” ocean goddesses, and more. What will we find yet, when this war is over?
Even as he thought that, a meta whom Georgi recognized as Jamaican Blaze, without saying anything, took Pavel’s open can from him, held it in her hands for a moment and her hands ignited briefly. She put the now warm can back in Pavel’s metal hands, and she continued moving to the section of the float where Red Saviour was standing. “She says ‘you are welcome, Sovietski Medved,’” the voice of Eight said over the CCCP channel.
“Blin, what a woman,” Bear said under his breath, already readying a fork. “Am wondering if is violation of protocol to date ECHO girls.”
Georgi ignored him, focusing his attention on the crowd. The rest of the CCCP was already there; Thea, small and pale, leaning up against a crate of ammunition. Soviette towered over many of the men, her hand resting on Chug’s craggy head; he was busy stuffing a piece of a broken pallet in his mouth, chewing intently. Proletariat was there; three of his “copies” were all working on a set of Supernaut armor, occasionally glancing up at the makeshift stage. For ECHO, Jamaican Blaze, Leader of the Pack, Corbie, a number of ECHO Euro, ECHO South America, ECHO Africa, ECHO Pacific, and ECHO PanAsia people Georgi did not recognize were already assembled. Generally, each nation’s military forces congregated around their representative metahumans; the Russians were interspersed with the CCCP, the NATO forces with the Americans and the European ECHO metas, and so on. Like with like. Even gathered here together, fighting for the same thing, we have our divisions.
Before Georgi could muse about human tribal eccentricities, the Commissar took to the makeshift stage—basically a large crate that Chug hadn’t eaten yet. She wasn’t smoking, he noticed, though he had no doubt that there was a small hill of cigarette butts somewhere close by, possibly hidden by the crate. The Commissar wore the standard CCCP uniform, with a load-bearing vest strapped over it; rifle magazines, grenades, and pouches weighted it down, but if the Commissar noticed, she didn’t seem to show it. Her long black hair was pulled back in a tight bun at the back of her head; unlike many of the assembled troops, she had forgone any camouflage face paint. She took a moment before speaking, surveying the crowd.
“I am not being a great orator.” She paused, putting her fists on her hips. “I have never been a diplomat, and have no stomach for politics or bureaucrats. I am a soldier, like all of you.” From the echoing of his Overwatch implant, Georgi knew that Eight was rebroadcasting this speech on every comm set in the expeditionary force. “We come from different countries, different cultures, different militaries. But none of that is mattering now. All that matters is that we are here to do what soldiers are meant to do—fight, and kill the enemy.” The Commissar raised an arm, pointing away from the coastline, in the direction they were being towed. “The svinya are there. They have killed too many of our people, and will kill the rest if we do not stop them, here and now. All of us have lost someone, maybe everyone, that has ever mattered to us. If we are not stopping them here, it will be like none of us ever existed.” She shook her head, then looked back to the troops. “All of you are already dead. You should make peace with this…and fight like dead men. It does not matter if a single one of us leaves this place, so long as we win. Fight like the dead, be ferocious in the face of the enemy, and bleed them dry. Fight! And maybe, the world we are fighting for will survive. We land in thirty minutes. Make yourself ready, tovarischii.”
Pavel immediately started clapping his metal hands together, producing a clattering racket. The rest of the troops had already started moving, every single person hustling to make final preparations. Natalya had left the stage, undoubtedly to finish checking to see that there were no changes to the plan. Finally, Pavel stopped clapping. “Was good speech. Rousing, nyet?”
“It was direct, like our Commissar. She did not lie, or make naive proclamations. Time will tell if she was right.”
Pavel’s brow furrowed. “Shto?”
“Whether we’re all already dead men.” He punched Pavel in the shoulder. “Come. Let us gather the others. There will be fascista to kill soon.”
* * *
The too calm quiet of the corridors had a familiar air as Mel led Penny forward with the rest of the team assigned to the infil party. Like the others, Penny had listened to the strong words with a sober expression. At the conclusion of the speech, she had reached up and patted Mel’s hand, then checked over her small pack of gear that both Mel and Ramona had insisted she take with her. Now, the little hand gripped Mel’s fingers tightly on their way to the conning tower. Others swarmed past them with faces careful masks of resolve or concealed terror.
The more experienced ones knew enough to allow a little bit of fear to accompany them to the hatch. Fear would keep them alert and agile, and Mel noted more shadows of concern as their comrades filed past. Just ahead of them, Bull’s familiar bulk overshadowed Bella’s lithe blue form. Victrix was probably ahead of them. Penny tilted her head back to see Bull disappear through the hatch and made a small noise in her throat.
“Last one,” Mel murmured to her charge. “We gotta keep it quiet and together once we hit that hatch. Don’t think, just follow me up and through. Got it?”
Penny bit
her lip and nodded. Someone behind them made a hole in the flow and they slipped in the line, heading up the ladder and through the hatch. Overcast skies and a rush of saltwater spray surrounded the group standing on the hull. Mel squinted at a figure standing on an otherwise invisible platform, recognizing the ECHO nanoweave but not the person wearing it. The lithe figure with shining black hair pulled into a sleek bun pointed two fingers at her and then motioned to the opening.
That’s our cue. Mel tugged at Penny’s arm gently, less to make her move and more to alert her to what needed to be done next. Her charge set her jaw and reached for the meta’s outstretched hand. Natalya swung her up and through the door hanging in the air, then reached for Mel next. This woman’s hand was cool against her palm, but Mel felt the slight tremble as she pulled her up and through the door.
Fear was a necessity. Mel knew it more than most. Fear would help them see it through.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
* * *
Too Far Gone
Mercedes Lackey, Dennis Lee, Cody Martin and Veronica Giguere
I was, at this moment, busier than I had ever been since I became self-aware. But then, so was everyone else. Not too busy to keep my main focus on my friends, though. I was afraid for them. Very afraid.
The hand that hauled Penny up through the hatch belonged to an honest-to-God ninja, although Penny didn’t think that ninjas were supposed to have more guns than they had hands. The woman—Penny was sure the ninja was a woman, she had hips and small breasts—made sure she was steady before motioning her to stand next to a man wearing a strange uniform. Both of them were short, and she squinted at the patches on the man’s jacket. The red and white swastika startled her, and she glanced back at Miz Mel with a frown.
Mel mouthed the word “okay” and motioned her ahead. Penny acknowledged her with a nod, but she gave the Nazi man a wide berth as she moved forward. While they waited for the others on the team to move into place, she studied the floor and walls. Where the submarine had been dark and smooth, this new ship had walls full of little holes and cracks, with long thick strands of gray-white connecting parts of the walls to the floors and ceiling. It reminded her of cobwebs or enormous stringy pieces of pizza cheese. Penny bent her knees and pushed gently against the floor. It felt spongy under the special ECHO boots that the adults had made her wear with her new uniform.
Someone else came to stand behind her, and she scooted forward to give them room without going too far into the room. The entire space had a damp smell to it, a combination of wet dog and moldy oranges that made her nose wrinkle. Penny covered her mouth with one hand and swallowed. She had smelled worse, but not by much.
“Smells like a monkey cage, huh?” Mel stood behind her, her voice low. She rested a hand on Penny’s shoulder. “It’s a whole different kind of circus, though.”
“No popcorn?” Penny shifted to look past Mel as the heavily armed ninja helped more people into the squishy, smelly room. Miz Vickie squeezed through the small group, and the Nazi man followed her.
The little man glared at Penny, then at Miz Vickie. “So I guess this means we’re going for broke. Seriously, Victrix? You’d bring a kid on this death trap?”
Penny scowled at the man, who she figured wasn’t a real Nazi since Miz Vickie hadn’t punched or stabbed him. He didn’t talk so much as growl the words, which made Penny like him even less. She folded her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at him.
“Do you really think I’d have brought her if there was a choice? Give me a break, Jack, I’m not a sociopath. She’s got skills we have no substitute for.” Vix put an arm around Penny’s shoulders. “Besides, she’s not going anywhere. She’s going to stay right here—”
The long strands between the ceiling and the walls shivered, giving off a series of tiny vibrations. Penny saw the spongy wall closest to her pull in, then push out like it was breathing. Thick orange goop leaked from the holes while tiny hairs wiggled out and reached toward them.
The tall man and the woman with the wings both erupted into flame, instantly dropping into crouches. “Ship’s reactin’ to us, an’ not in a good way,” the man said.
Miz Bella said something that Mama would have beat Penny for saying. She stripped off a glove and put her hand fearlessly on the oozing wall, wincing a little when she did so. “Immune reaction. Dammit, Jack, you might have warned us this thing was alive! Sera, JM, turn off the fire, you’re making it worse!”
Both of them immediately extinguished themselves; the winged lady cocked her head to the side, as if hearing something distant. “It knows that we are foreign, like a virus. It has been ordered to kill anything foreign that comes in here.”
“This is new,” said the little man. “Most of this place isn’t organic like this, at least not lining the corridors we’ve been down and mapping. We should retreat, get back to the high-tech zones.”
“No time,” the giant man said. “Everyone on me, now!”
As they scurried to his side, Penny found herself wondering about this giant who was never far from Miz Bella’s side. He was huge, his voice was almost as gravelly as the little man’s, but there was something about him she found immensely comforting. She could feel it. There was a gentle quality to him, and a strength, a good strength, like a great big shield she could hide behind…
Penny yelped as a shimmering ball of light erupted around all of them, lifting them off the ground. They struggled to keep their balance, some even succeeded, but Penny felt her feet fly out from under her on this newly curved and slippery floor. She landed squarely on her behind, wincing at the pain, but stopped in horror as she watched the world close around them outside the protective bubble. The hairs on the wall were growing. They were so fast! And they were wrapping themselves around the shield, and then they started to press in…
“Ideas would be good right now…” the giant grunted. He sounded like he was in pain.
Penny was beginning to panic, but Miz Bella seemed oddly calm, even though the palm of her hand was now discolored with a blotchy purple. She held onto the giant and closed her eyes. “Keep that shield going, Bull. I think I might have this…it’s a matter of figuring out its innards.” She took a long breath, a sort of testing breath, as if she was…a dog, sniffing for something. “Let’s see if this works. Sera, I may need a boost.”
“Certainly.” The winged lady wrapped her wings around all of them. “One for you as well, Bulwark.” The tall man next to her took the winged lady’s hand into his own, and then closed his eyes.
Penny felt herself shudder with relief as one of the wings drew her closer in. A moment before, she had almost been screaming in terror, but now—all she felt was warmth and light and love, all from a simple touch from the winged lady. But she wasn’t a lady. She was an angel. This is what angels do, Penny remembered. How many times had her brother, Pike, told her about angels? You had to believe in them, he had said, or they would never come for you. She thought they were stupid baby stories, that she had outgrown them, but to feel it…
It was enough to make her believe.
She noticed she wasn’t the only one. Mistuh Bull didn’t look like he was in pain anymore. He stood tall, proud, his arms held wide as he held the gross hair back, and his shield seemed much brighter. It had been folding in places before, now it stood firm.
The ninja lady was holding herself closely, as if she was afraid the feathers would touch her. Penny wondered why. The angel leaned in close over the ninja lady’s shoulder before she could move away, and whispered something. Penny shouldn’t have been able to make it out, but the new ears that Miz Vickie had put in caught it. “Forgiveness is always possible.” The ninja lady looked away, and didn’t answer her.
Miz Vickie’s eyes were very big, and very bright, as if she was about to cry. The angel put a hand on her shoulder, and smiled faintly. Miz Vickie nodded.
The short man just grunted and flicked a few feathers from his face. He looked annoyed.
“Go
t it,” Miz Bella breathed. The hairs slowly relaxed, and just as slowly pulled themselves back into the wall. The orange goop, now several inches deep on the floor, drained away. The walls drew back and stopped moving. Penny held back a sob of relief.
“I found the off switch,” Miz Bella added, and then frowned. “This ship is…really strange, guys. This isn’t the only part that’s organic, and the organic part is old. And failing, I think.”
“A discussion for another time, I would think,” Mistuh Bull said, lowering the bottom half of his shield so that everyone was standing on the floor before he dropped it completely. “We might want to follow Jack’s suggestion and move right along. This area isn’t safe.”
“No,” Miz Bella disagreed. “That’s not the plan. I am not taking Penny further into this monstrosity…”
“Plans change, darlin’,” the short man said. “We’ve been mapping out the surrounding area. Got a safe point just around the next bend. Safer than here, anyway. You can do your mojo there.”
“No plan survives first contact with the enemy,” said Miz Vickie, sounding calm and practical. “I say we get out of this…homicidal cloaca. Your ‘off’ switch might not stay off.”
Reluctantly, Miz Bella nodded, although Penny could not imagine why she’d want to stay here. They all followed the little man and his ninja friend out of the weird, round metal plate that opened up like that thing on the front of a camera and let them out into a much more “normal” corridor. The angel and her tall man lingered behind for a moment. The angel rested her hand on the wall as Miz Bella had. Then the two of them looked into each other’s eyes. The tall man nodded, and they both followed.
Avalanche: Book Five in the Secret World Chronicle Page 62
