by Ken Bebelle
As everyone scrambled to cover Harding hunkered down next to Keenan.
The spook unclipped the case and locked it to Keenan’s wrist. “The ID pad is keyed to any of your fingers.” Harding pulled his rifle off his back and scanned down the street. He held the rifle with the ease of a well-trained soldier.
“Best guess, we need to get to within ten feet of one of those iceboxes to successfully activate it. Last drone surveillance says there’s probably a clump of them 100 meters ahead of us.”
Keenan stared at the case locked to his arm. It was much heavier than it looked. Hope and dread swirled into a heady cocktail in his chest. “I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to do with this.”
Harding smiled grimly. “We’ll improvise. Isn’t that what you Wolves are best at?” He patted Keenan on the back. “We’ll cover you. Don’t get dead.”
The five of them moved down the street with Keenan in the middle, hugging the edges of the buildings. Distant sounds of plasma fire and the whine of jumpships echoed through the streets.
The iceboxes stood in a rough circle in the middle of a large intersection, five grotesque structures like some alien Stonehenge. The iceboxes glowed with their own eerie light, casting long shadows into the street. On point, Kekoa stopped at the edge of the last building and looked out. A booming crack sounded and a ball of blue energy pounded the corner of the building into powder. Kekoa flew back from the building, landing in the street in a senseless pile.
Sasha cried, “Cover!” She charged into the street, Keenan following close behind. They each grabbed one of Kekoa’s arms and dragged him out of the line of fire. More bolts of blue energy streaked past the corner, hammering the buildings around them, raining rubble down on their heads.
In the cover of the doorway Keenan hauled on his friend’s shoulder and turned him over. Pale dust covered his slack face, in stark contrast to the livid streaks of blood running from his nose and ears. Keenan pressed his hands into Kekoa’s neck, searching for a pulse. His fingers drew dark lines across the dust. His friend lay motionless beneath him.
Harding ran up and pulled Keenan’s hands off Kekoa. “Leave him! Stay on mission! We take this position, now!”
Keenan popped up, arm hauling back to punch Harding in the face.
Sasha grabbed Keenan’s arm, the metal fingers digging painfully into his bicep. He looked down at her. Her eyes were hard and bright. “No. He’s right, Keenan. We keep moving forward. Bells, grab the extra rifle. We’re going to ease out and lay down as much cover as we can. Faceman, you’re going for the iceboxes.”
She turned away, talking into her gauntlet.
As the others took positions, Keenan unlocked the cuff and thumbed open the small case. Cold, malevolent energy wafted out from the case as the lid hinged back. Dark foam lined the interior, cradling a nearly featureless slab of alien technology. A rime of frost formed on the smooth surface in moments. His jaw ached from the sudden cold.
The artifact, or whatever it was, was about the size and shape of a small tablet. Rubberized plastic coated the edges and extended out on one side to form a handle. Keenan slid his left hand under the handle and plucked the thing out of the foam. As it pulled free of the case, the freezing air cascading from the artifact redoubled, numbing his fingers even through his tactical glove.
Sasha looked back at him. She held a rifle in each arm. “Ready?”
Keenan looked down at his friend. Bells had closed Kekoa’s eyes and laid him on the ground as far as possible from the street. He and Kekoa had come through so much together, it didn’t seem right for the tough man to go down without a fight. A bitter ache unrelated to the weather bloomed in his chest and he savagely quashed the feeling. Later. Mourn later. He turned to Kennedy and nodded.
Sasha popped around the corner and unleashed both plasma rifles on full auto. Keenan sprinted for the intersection, feeling the heat from the rifles baking one side of his face. Bells ran beside him, laying down more fire as she ran. He dropped into a baseball slide and grabbed the first icebox to stop himself, hissing with pain when his hand made contact.
“Bells! Don’t touch them!”
Too late. Bells slipped on the icy road and rolled into the next icebox. She screamed in pain as she crashed into an icebox, pinning one of her legs. Keenan crawled over and dragged her into the shadow of the structure.
She was moaning, her legs trembling uncontrollably. “F-f-fuck! Where’s my rifle? Fuck that hurts!”
Harding screamed from across the street. “Flynn! Do it!”
Keenan snatched up Bells’s rifle and thrust it back into her shaking hands. She rolled over with a groan of agony, tearing open the med kit on her thigh. She grabbed a hypo from the scattered items and jammed it into her leg. Her eyes flew open as the meds kicked in. She gave him a quick nod, crawled to the edge of the clearing and began firing around the nearest icebox.
Keenan crouched in the lee of the iceboxes and took out the artifact. Cold energy and deep blue light pulsed from within, like it knew where it was.
He licked his lips. The air sizzled around him, alternating blue alien energy and white-purple plasma bolts. He distantly heard the yells and screams of his teammates. Just bringing his right hand closer to this thing was making the itch in his palm unbearable. Gut-knotting fear and curiosity warred inside him, like the grisly desire to stick his hand into a spinning turbine.
The pulsing beat of blue light quickened until it mirrored the hammering of his heart in his chest. Keenan’s vision narrowed down to his hand hovering a fraction of an inch over the surface of the artifact. The biofilm glowed and pulsed in sync with the alien tablet. That was a good sign, right?
His palm came down on the glassy surface of the artifact.
Time slowed to a halt.
Searing pain roared up his arms, clenching his body into a gruesome rictus. A gasping, reedy scream escaped his lips as his eyes rolled up into his head. A bone-shaking vibration thrummed through his chest. The vibration built to a violence enough to feel like his teeth were being shaken from his head. The pain stretched to eternity. He felt something strike his hands, and the pain ebbed. Keenan collapsed to the icy ground, falling on top of Bells.
She shook him. “LT! LT!”
The world swam back to him in black and white. He shoved himself up to sitting and promptly threw up. He rubbed his head and ears.
Keenan realized he couldn’t hear anything. “What happened?”
Bells returned to her prone position, aiming down the street. “Dunno. Everyone stopped shooting after I knocked that thing out of your hands.”
He looked around the clearing. The artifact lay on the ground a few feet from him, the dim light still pulsing like a rapid heartbeat. The grating whine of a jumpship appeared above them. Keenan looked up in time to see a bright square of light open and two figures jump out. Both landed in the middle of the iceboxes, graceful and catlike.
Even in the low lighting, Keenan recognized Jonesy’s bald silhouette and the glowing tracing of the neural implants on the side of his face. He didn’t recognize the sinuous braid of biomechanical cables that had replaced his arm, or the Ringhead claw he now had for a hand. Jesus H. Christ.
Behind Jonesy stood a tall ghostly pale woman with a similar alien prosthetic leg, and a biomechanical lens over one eye. Her silver blonde hair radiated out from her head, an electric halo. She too had a dark claw for a hand, jarring and ugly against all that pale skin. They both wore Sino-sov tactical suits, stained with substances Keenan couldn’t place.
Jonesy stopped a few meters from Keenan, making tut-tut sounds. “Keenan! Mother says you’ve been very bad.”
Eighteen
Homecoming
Something was shaking her.
“Fuck!” Cam tried to go back to sleep. They shook her harder.
“Quit it!” Cam opened her eyes only to find it was pitch black. Before she could scream, a panel lifted, flooding her with cool air and a hazy twilight darkness. Cam blin
ked, remembering where she was. Closing her eyes in relief, she leaned her head back. “Are we home yet?”
Reaching out to the exterior sensors, Cam looked out, nervous about what she might find this time. A vast green blanket of forest stretched out before her, as far north and south as she could see. In the center winked a lake of blue. Oh my god. Lake Tahoe. Cam choked back a sob of relief at the beautiful sight. “Thanks, girl.”
With a thought, Cam’s released her flight restraints and rolled her shoulders. Huh, good as new. The excitement at being so close to base had cleared the last bit of fatigue from her system. As AJ slowed their approach, Cam considered what the hell she should do next.
It was a good thing these damn jumpships had a cloak or no doubt they would shoot at AJ on sight. Cam puzzled over where to land. Walk in? Walk in covered in her nifty alien armor? Her options sounded bad. Really bad.
Frustration mounted while Cam walked through each scenario. She settled on what seemed like the most direct plan. She would park AJ on the tarmac and keep her cloaked. Then she’d sneak into the flight prep area and send a comm to Colonel Phillips to explain everything. If it didn’t seem like it was going well, she could bail. It was a shitty plan, but Cam liked the thought of being on base again, albeit somewhat covertly. Also, she could steal some new clothes and get out these nasty Sino Sov castoffs.
Squared away for now, Cam turned her attention back to the ship and realized AJ was just hovering--no longer descending into the Reno area. “Why are we stopped?”
The interior screens lit up, pulling up visuals of the skies above Reno. So far, so good. As Cam watched, small red circles began proliferating around the city. Oh no. Red was bad. Cam’s stomach clenched as she watched other red marks blinking as well. Those were moving. Shit. Other jumpships? Why the hell were they there?
Cam scanned the screen, trying to pinpoint Camp Glenn’s location. No moving marks, but some circles near it. She could still make it to base but she would have to evade the other jumpships. Shit. If I can see them, they can see me. Only now did she notice the faint plumes of smoke arising from various points in the city.
Cam bellowed in frustration, a primal sound from deep in her gut. She was so close to getting home. Cam struggled to calm herself. “Ok AJ, nobody’s shooting at us. Does that mean they don’t know I’m in here?”
AJ started descending, but at the speed of a fat ladybug. Cam took that for a no. Cam let out a breath of relief. She could go forward with her plan to get to Camp Glenn. AJ would just have to dodge all the other jumpships.
AJ expanded the view and voices filled the cabin. Human voices. “AJ, you’re the best.”
It was a lot like listening to a police scanner. For a moment, Cam sat there and just let the voices wash over her, familiar and foreign at the same time. She didn’t know how long she’d been alone. The forced solitude had her talking to an alien ship. Hearing the chaotic transmissions interspersed with static comforted her.
They’d just take it slow and easy, threading the needle to avoid the jumpships over Reno. All that time left Cam to wonder. Why the fuck are there so many jumpships over Reno? They couldn’t see her and she ruled out the idea it was a search party. That left the gruesome conclusion that the Ringheads were laying down a massive offensive strike in Reno, showing off their new ability to penetrate the Green Zone. That meant the Colonel had his hands full. Nevermind Cam showing up. Ugh. Cam needed to know what was going on.
“Hey AJ, can you filter the communications?” Cam concentrated on search threads she wanted, working with the shipmind to sift the massive amounts of streaming channels. Cam’s lashes fluttered as AJ jolted the feed. The voices sped up, losing all meaning. Moments or eons passed. Then the words slowed and Cam could make out a single channel that AJ had found.
<
Cam’s eyes shot open. Keenan!
All thoughts of reporting to the old man vanished.
“AJ, find me that signal.”
As if channeling her urgency, the ship accelerated, zooming towards central Reno. On the screen, Cam watched the alarming spread of the red circles, with the odd one winking out over by Sparks. Huh.
Her chair started vibrating, shaking so hard that Cam’s teeth clicked together. Ow, fuck. AJ was going crazy, lighting up a flashing blue icon on the screen.
Is that Keenan? Cam released all of her seat restraints, scrabbling to the doors. The ship careened downwards, so fast that Cam thought she would float upwards. She used the exterior scans to look below. Iceboxes glittered on the landscape and the normal hustle and bustle of this desert town, along with columns of black smoke everywhere. Auto-cabs sat dead in the street and people on foot streamed out towards the main roads. God help them all.
Cam readied herself as the cityscape grew larger. “AJ, dress me up. I’m going for a dive.”
Around her feet, layers of the armor wound itself over her, spiraling up her legs and torso to encase her. She flexed her knees, testing her mobility. This shit is amazing. Cam slammed the control panel and the doors slid open. Her visor activated and the blue light flashed like a homing beacon. Keenan, surrounded by Ringheads. “AJ, give me cover fire. I’m going in.”
Nineteen
No Exit
Keenan
The last time Keenan had seen Jonesy, they’d been at dinner together, laughing over drinks. Cam adored the big guy, and when she talked about Jonesy’s huge family, Keenan could hear the affection laced with envy in her voice.
Keenan couldn’t reconcile the ghastly scene in front of him with those memories. Also, Jonesy and Cam had last been seen together. Where was she?
“Jonesy. Where’s Cam?”
Jonesy frowned. “She’ll come around. She’s meant to be with us now.””
Disappointment swamped him. Keenan got to his feet, still swaying a little. The Ringhead rifle bumped against his back.
Jonesy’s head tilted, looking past Keenan. “I’ll be taking that rifle. Plus the little toy you tried to use as well. You shouldn’t mess around with things you don’t understand.”
Keenan moved to his right, keeping himself between Jonesy and Bells. Bells pulled herself along the ground, inching herself away from the newcomers. He had to buy some time. He swung the rifle around and got his hand on the grip. He didn’t point it at Jonesy. Not yet.
“What’s going on? Why are you talking like this?”
Jonesy smiled. His eyes burned fever bright, an eerie silver glow against his dark skin. “Because it’s the only answer that makes sense. You’ll see it too, eventually, just like Cam will. They’re beautiful, really. The Ringheads. They strive for perfection at a level we can barely comprehend.”
Keenan tightened his grip on the rifle. His palm itched from the energy flow to the weapon. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt Jonesy. “C’mon man, they’re killing us. How can you take their side?”
“Well--”
A sizzling bolt of plasma hissed past Keenan, baking the side of his face as it went. The bolt crashed into Jonesy’s chest, the bolt bursting apart like a splash of lava. Jonesy crumpled to the ground.
Keenan cried, “No!” He whirled, Harding crouched just beyond the ring of iceboxes, rifle trained on Jonesy. Kennedy approached on the other side, trying to circle behind.
Harding fired again. “Keenan, pull out! Now!” The second bolt scorched his arm as it passed. Keenan turned to see the woman thrown off her feet and out of the ring. Jonesy was getting to his feet, smoking plasma dripping off his bare chest. Shit.
Keenan dragged Bells to her feet and shoved her out of the ring. Jonesy raised his alien arm--it glowed white hot--and shot a fiery lance of energy at Bells’s back. It missed her by inches and carved a neat, smoking hole in the side of one of the iceboxes.
Harding and Kennedy opened fire, pouring plasma into the ring. Keenan grabbed the ali
en tablet and backed away from the intense heat. Jonesy and the woman stood in the midst of all that plasma fire, still standing, leaning into the gunfire like it was a stiff wind. Against the white-hot glow of the plasma Jonesy raised his arm towards Harding.
Keenan ran and dove for Harding. “Get down!” They crashed together and the energy lance burned above them, drawing a hot UV burn across his back.
Harding wrestled him off and got in his face. “Goddammit, Keenan. Get in the fight! We need your firepower! It’s us or them!” Harding rolled over and resumed firing.
Ringheads erupted from the surrounding buildings, their guttural roars singing counterpoint to the gunfire. Keenan spun and fired his rifle at a Hunter running straight at him. The leeching cold crawled up his arm as the rifle discharged. A searing ball of blue energy shot out of the rifle, striking the Hunter in the chest. The energy spread around the alien’s torso and encased it in a blinding flash of light. The Hunter collapsed mid-stride.
He turned again and saw Sasha in the distance. Two-fisted, she pounded the Ringheads with her rifles, but didn’t see the ghost woman approaching her from inside the ring. Keenan brought the rifle up to bear, the cold now sucking into his chest. He fired and the energy ball streaked across the intersection. It slammed into woman’s legs, toppling her like a felled tree. She screamed in rage as the ball coalesced and flashed around her leg.
As the ghost woman’s body went still, a battering pulse of energy bloomed from the iceboxes, throwing everyone, Ringhead and human alike, from their feet. An inarticulate roar of rage crashed across his mind. Along the street humans and Ringheads all clutched their heads in pain.
As one, all the Hunters on the street straightened, and all their heads swiveled to look at Keenan.
Oh, fuck me.
