She opened her eyes and saw Naja clutching a stump. The tracker was gone. So was his hand.
The blast had seared the harpies holding Mairead. They had absorbed most of the energy, saving her life. The deformed beings were screaming, and she kicked madly, tearing herself free.
Mairead grabbed one of the flapping, bony creatures. As Naja lunged toward her, Mairead swung the harpy, slamming its face into the basilisk's gushing stump.
The harpy hit the exposed bone.
Naja bellowed, a cry so loud and agonizing it shook the tunnel.
Mairead released the harpy and ran past Naja, heading deeper down the tunnel. She could not run back to New Jersey. Too many harpies filled the tunnel behind her. Right now, she must plow forward. She raced through the darkness, arms pumping, while Naja screamed behind.
She glanced over her shoulder. The monstrous basilisk was pursuing her. The harpies were flying with him.
As she ran, Mairead reached into her pack and pulled out more explosives.
She hurled the sticky globs. They slapped onto the tunnel ceiling and walls and stuck.
She ran faster. Behind her, the enemy pursued.
Mairead sneered and lifted her minicom to her lips.
"Boom," she said.
She threw herself down, landed on her belly, and covered her head with her arms.
Behind her, the explosives detonated.
Fire raged. Dust and smoke flew. Stones buffeted Mairead's back. The shock wave pounded her like hammers, and she screamed.
She forced herself to rise, wobbled, and hit the wall. Her head reeled. Her ears kept ringing. Her uniform was burnt, and blood dripped down her fingers. She stumbled forward, crashed to her knees, then rose again and limped onward. The tunnel swayed around her.
As she ran, she glanced behind her. Dust swirled. The tunnel had collapsed. Boulders and bricks sealed the passageway. Naja was either crushed or trapped behind her.
Mairead ran onward, swaying, coughing. The tunnel finally sloped upward, and she burst into New York City.
The ruins rose before her, thousands of ragged skyscrapers coated with scales, swarming with snakes. Enemy warships filled the sky, rumbling, churning clouds of smoke. A scaly Copperhead soared from a few blocks away, shaking the ruins.
Smoke swirled around Mairead's feet. Her blood dripped. In the distance, a monstrous shriek rose, the cry of some unknown terror. Mairead swallowed and clenched her fists. She walked into the alien city, into the city of her dreams, into beloved New York.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Every moment away from Earth ached.
Bay paced the bridge of the HDFS New Orleans, a cavernous freighter. His footsteps echoed. He checked the porthole again, but Earth was too far to see. He kept pacing.
"Sit down, son!" Luther strummed his guitar. "You can't walk your way to Epsilon Eridani."
The old bluesman began playing a tune, humming along and tapping his foot. His voice was raw and gritty, but his fingers were deft.
Bay glared at the man. Luther had wrinkly, dark brown skin and white stubble. He wore corduroy trousers, a sweater, and a flat cap. He looked like a typical kindly grandpa—aside from his eyes. His irises were golden and shaped like starbursts. And under his hat, Bay knew, Luther had stubby horns.
He's not fully human, Bay remembered. He's a starling. A human who ventured too deeply into space. He came back … changed. He frowned. Is that why he doesn't seem to care about Earth? Does he not consider himself human anymore?
"How can you play music at a time like this?" Bay demanded.
Luther shrugged but kept strumming. "Care to join me? I've got a bass guitar lying around somewhere. It'll be a few days to Epsilon Eridani. We can jam while we fly. Beats your pacing." He barked a laugh.
"No!" Bay said. "I don't care to jam. Earth is under attack! The war rages! Rowan is there. And Emet. And everyone I know and love. I keep thinking about it, imagining the aliens attacking, and my friends fighting for Earth, while I'm …"
"Stuck here with an old mutant?" Luther said.
Bay felt himself flush. "That's not what I meant."
Luther lowered his guitar. He looked up with those strange, starry eyes. "But that's what you were thinking, son. Wasn't it? Old Luther here—he ain't a human. He's a starling! A human who ventured too far. Aye, it's true, son. I flew into the abyss where no humans should go. Came back with alien DNA spliced through my genes. But hey, it's been keeping me alive, even with the cancer in my belly. I still got a few good tunes in me." He strummed again. "Sit down, son! You can't kill the basilisks by pacing. But you can with the weapons we're gonna buy. We're doing important work here, son. The work I've been doing for your dad for three decades."
Bay nodded. Yes, for thirty years, Luther had supplied the Heirs of Earth with their weapons. He had donated hundreds of creaky old starships from his scrapyard—starships the Heirs of Earth had refitted for war. Without Luther, there would have been no Heirs of Earth. No human colony on Earth. Maybe no humanity at all.
But Xerka destroyed those ships, Bay thought. She took everything from us.
He finally sat down. He looked at the old man. "Do you really think we can buy weapons at Epsilon Eridani? I heard tales of the place. They say it's overrun with diseases. A sort of leper colony."
"Aye, I spread that tale myself." Luther winked. "Keeps the Peacekeepers out. And snot-nosed kids like you. Ha!"
Bay rolled his eyes. "I'm twenty-eight."
Luther snorted. "Pup."
The hours stretched by. Luther seemed incredibly relaxed. He rustled up some pancakes—but that just made Bay miss Rowan even more. They played a few rounds of Counter Squares, but Bay couldn't focus on the board. Luther played him a few records of Bootstrap and the Shoeshine Kid, his favorite blues duo, humming and tapping along, but Bay wasn't in the mood for music.
He kept seeing it over and over. The hellwolf leaping into the trench, ripping men apart. The basilisks swarming across the ruins, crushing soldiers. And old memories. Finding Rowan in the killing fields of Aeolis, her body mangled, every bone shattered and her teeth scattered on the ground. Seeing the naked, skeletal gulock survivors, some bearing the scars of medical experimentation. And always—the worries for home. For his family. For Rowan, the woman he loved.
Finally, Bay could not bear it. He left the bridge, entered his cabin, and fell to his knees. He breathed heavily, eyes stinging, and it was a long moment before he could calm himself.
He approached a porthole. He gazed back toward Earth, but the planet was too far to see, and the stars were streaked into lines.
"I miss you, Rowan," he said softly. "You can't hear me, but Ra damn, I miss you, babe. I love you a ton. Hang in there."
A sudden vision—Seohyun lying dead, her burnt arm reaching out of rubble.
Bay shoved that memory aside.
Yes, he had lost loved ones. And he still mourned them. But he must have hope. He must stand tall. He must not surrender to fear. Luther was right. They were doing important work here. And Bay swore they would not fail.
Epsilon Eridani was close to Earth, only ten light-years away, making it the third nearest star to Sol. The trip only took a few days, but every moment gnawed on Bay.
Finally, after that short eternity, Bay stood on the bridge, gazing at their destination.
"Aye, there it is," Luther said. "Epsilon Eridani. The star of the damned." He pointed. "We're heading to a planet called Niraya. It'll be coming into view soon."
Bay frowned. "Niraya. Sounds familiar." He pulled out his minicom and opened Wikipedia Galactica, then looked at Luther. "The Buddhist name for the underworld. Coincidence?"
"No, sir," Luther said. "Starlings live there. Half humans. They know human lore. This planet ahead of us? This is the land of the damned. Of the forgotten. Of the lost. This is the underworld of the cosmos."
Bay shuddered. "It can't be worse than Earth right now."
Luther's voice was soft, as if lost in memory. "Nir
aya too is a home for the homeless, for those scorned and exiled. I lived there once." His shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Ah, there it is! The planet Niraya."
Luther pointed. Bay stared out the viewport, but he saw nothing.
"What, that speck?" he said.
Luther laughed. "That speck is another star, light-years away. Niraya is right ahead of us, as large as a full moon from Earth."
Bay titled his head. "Are you pulling my leg, old man?"
Luther rolled his eyes. "Son, the people who live on Niraya are called the lost. And they prefer to stay lost. In a galaxy swarming with monsters, you either become a monster yourself—or you learn to hide in shadows." He tapped on his control panel and picked up a mic. "Gunt! Gunt, you son of a bitch. I know you're still the gatekeeper, so answer your old pal. It's Luther. Big Blue. Don't tell me you forgot me."
For a long moment—silence.
Luther cleared his throat. "Gunt, it's me, damn it. Don't you remember that time we smuggled those star-nosed amphibians out of Beta Canopus? We wrote a song about it. I'll strum it if you like." He picked up his guitar and strummed a chord. "But you better hurry and pull back the curtains, cuz I'm flying in, blind or not."
For another moment, nothing happened.
And then—
Bay gasped.
"Impossible!" he said.
Yet it was happening before him. A planet was flickering into existence. Bay blinked and rubbed his eyes.
Luther laughed. "You look like you saw a ghost, son."
"Or a ghost planet," Bay muttered. "Bloody hell. I've never seen an invisibility cloak this large. I've seen small ones that could fit a person, even some that could cover a small starship. But a planet?" He whistled. "Must have cost a Ra damn fortune. More than an entire armada of warships."
Luther nodded. "Invisibility is worth more than warships when you make hiding from wars your business."
"I'd buy one for Earth," Bay muttered. "If only Xerka and every other damn lunatic in the galaxy didn't already have our coordinates."
They flew closer, and Bay watched the planet. It was a small world, smaller than Earth's moon. It had no oceans or rivers that Bay could see, and its landforms were black and deep blue, but charcoal clouds hid most of the planet. It seemed a sad place, dark and muted. Even without the invisibility shield, Niraya nearly vanished into the darkness of space.
"It barely seems habitable," Bay said. "Too cold for running water. Too small to have much gravity. I'm barely seeing an atmosphere. Not the kind of place you'd expect to find civilization. A mine or two at most."
Or a gulock, he thought with a shudder. The scorpions would have loved this place.
Luther nodded, uncharacteristically somber. "It was a hard home."
Bay looked at the old man. He realized that he knew nothing about Luther's past. Bay used to visit the starling's scrapyard as a kid. He had fond memories of those days—of Luther, who had seemed old even then, frying him pancakes and playing him songs on the guitar. Bay had imagined that Luther had always lived in his scrapyard aboard the Relic, that massive hulk of an ancient spaceship, converted into a hive for smugglers, bounty hunters, and arms dealers. But of course, Luther had come from somewhere. Must have had a proper home long ago. He had been human once, or close to it. But seeing the sadness in those strange eyes, Bay dared not ask.
They entered orbit. Many satellites and starships were orbiting Niraya with the New Orleans. Bay looked around in fascination. There were ships here from countless civilizations—ships that were spiky, smooth, long, boxy, some filled with air, others with thick mist, and many with water. Bay could recognize none of these species. The ships seemed cobbled together from scraps—a basilisk engine here, an Aelonian hull there, Meduzian cannons, and other parts from across the galaxy. Bay had spent years traveling between sin hives, mingling with mercenaries and gamblers, but he had never seen such a motley collection of machines.
"These are all pieces of junk!" Bay said. "These wouldn't last five minutes against a basilisk armada."
Luther snickered. "We're not here to buy starships, son. Couldn't afford them anyway. The lost have other weapons. They'll help us."
Buoys orbited the world, directing traffic. Bay took the helm and glided the New Orleans downward. Several hundred satellites were orbiting farther down, while an assortment of patchwork starships hovered around him. When the clouds parted below, Bay could see city lights. The cities were sizable considering how inhospitable the planet was.
"A hundred thousand aliens must live here," Bay said, wonder in his voice.
"Aliens?" Luther cocked an eyebrow. "Some might qualify. Most don't neatly fit the label. Any label. Bay, the beings who live here—they don't belong to any single species. Some are mutants, the result of radiation or medical experiments. Some are hybrids, maybe created in a lab, maybe in some night of passion on a distant world. Some are simply … unknown. They don't belong anywhere. So they come here." He nodded sadly. "Five million souls make their home in Niraya."
Bay's eyes widened. "Five million!" He pointed. "On that rock?"
"The lost can't be picky. They park their bones where they can."
Bay thought of his long years in exile. He nodded. "I think I know something about that."
The New Orleans entered a stable orbit, and Bay and Luther stepped into a shuttle. They descended toward the planet. Drones buzzed around them, pointing cameras, scanning the shuttle with sweeping lasers. As they entered the upper atmosphere, Bay saw lifeforms hovering around them. One was like a floating jellyfish the size of a hot tub, glowing blue and lavender. Another was humanoid, tall and slender like a dandelion seed, his wings feathery, his jaws filled with fangs. A strange bird flew below, body formed of raw bones, wings stretched with what looked like tarpaulin. No two creatures were alike.
Bay doubted these were the starlings, those human hybrids. They were aliens. But aliens without worlds of their own. The only or the last of their kinds.
Mutants, Bay thought. Experiments. Freaks.
Often, he had felt like that. After all, weren't humans the rejects of the galaxy?
He looked at his left arm. The prosthetic was carved of wood, inlaid with brass gears and gauges. Often Bay had felt like a freak—first with his deformed hand, then with the prosthetic that replaced it. Maybe Niraya was something of a haven for him too.
They dived closer to the city. It was night on Niraya, but the city lights shone as bright as day. Skyscrapers rose, some a kilometer high. Roads wound in a chaotic labyrinth, their traffic flowing like luminous blood through arteries. Shantytowns clung to the slopes of a jagged black mountain, shining with a million lanterns on cables. Chimneys pumped out smoke, machines dug into deep mines, and strobe lights flared over a gladiator dome. Countless shuttles were flying to and fro, some the size of whales, others smaller than his fist.
"Take us down to that industrial complex." Luther pointed. "See that hangar by the roundabout, the one with all those chimneys? That's our destination."
Bay cringed. He saw the hangar. It nestled between brothels, drug dens, and fighting pits.
"That's a baaaad neighborhood, Luther."
Luther nodded. "Ayep. Sure is. Why do you think I left?"
Bay began guiding the shuttle down. "You lived here? In this shithole?"
Luther barked a laugh. "For a while. Wasn't as bad back then. Had a family diner next door. Made the best damn chili you ever tasted. The place sells sexbots now. My friend Akira and I were partners here. Sold small arms together, mostly to smugglers and mercenaries. Sometimes to gangs. Truth is, I never asked."
Bay lowered the shuttle between chimneys. For a moment smoke covered the windshield.
"Why did you leave Niraya?" Bay said. "Hell, you did more than just leave. You traveled halfway across the galaxy. Your old scrapyard was all the way in another spiral arm."
A sigh rolled through Luther. "One day we sold guns to the wrong guys. It was on the news next day. Our client
s gunned down fifteen schoolchildren. Sent a message to their parents. Gang war." Luther lowered his head. "After that, it was no more guns for me. I flew as far as my money could take me. I switched to selling tankers and freighters. And only to customers I trusted, customers I knew were noble. Customers like your father, Bay."
Bay placed a hand on the old man's shoulder. "You're a good man, Luth."
He laughed. "Man? Man implies human. Been a while since anyone's called me that. Why do you think I lived on Niraya in the first place?"
They descended toward the grimy street, their thruster engines scattering paper cups and cigarette stubs. The shuttle landed with a thump. A few hooded figures lurched aside, dropping their bottles of grog. One bottle shattered and the drunk wailed.
Bay shut off the engine. He slung Lawless, his rifle, across his back. Luther tucked a pistol into his belt, and the two men stepped onto the street. A cold wind moaned, billowing Bay's blue coat and rattling its buttons. He shivered and tightened the garment around himself. Empty grog cans rolled around his boots, and scraps of paper fluttered. Neon signs shone along the street, illuminating a dozen storefronts. Bay read a few of the signs.
The Wizard's Rug—Ride The Chemical Carpet!
Cheap Mortgages—No Credit Checks
Girls, girls, girls! Best species blends!
We Buy Your Guns! Real Scryls Paid!
Cop Lawyer: The Lawyer Who Kills
A boxy robot creaked toward Bay and Luther. Two glassy eyes focused on them, bugged out, then contracted again. The robot transformed, gears turning and parts folding and unfolding, becoming something vaguely resembling a woman. The mechanical woman limped closer, swaying so madly she nearly fell, and her joints sparked.
"Care for a trick, guvna?" the robot asked, voice shrill. Metal breasts extended from her chest, shedding rust.
"No thanks," Bay said.
The robot held out her palm. "Donate a few scryls to feed the children, guvna?"
Bay rolled his eyes and pulled a few scryls from his pocket. But instead of handing them to the robot, he tossed them at the drunk nearby. The hooded creature was still weeping over his shattered bottle, trying to lick the grog off the street, only to cut his tongue on broken glass. The drunkard gasped, collected the scryls, then looked up at Bay with three bloodshot eyes.
The Song of Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 5) Page 11
