by Gorman, K.
“Three minutes out,” Nomiki said, her voice slightly distorted by the wide band comms. “Karin, you good?”
She grunted in acknowledgment, frowning down at the armor covering her fingers. The klemptas was new, less than a week old, but she’d already put multiple scratches and scorch marks in it, and she doubted she’d ever fully acclimate to it. Form-fitting, with an array of pressure-sensitive relays, combat sensors, and medical tech built into its panels, the inner layer suctioned so close to her that it felt like it had melded into every crack, crevice, and wrinkle she possessed―and then moved with them. Like an intelligent second skin.
Nomiki had said that was normal.
The ship tilted, yawing to the left. She readjusted her grip on one of the hallway’s handrails, keeping track of the flight pattern on a map screen to the side. Her stomach did a flip as the ship’s built-in gravity tech slipped during the turn, struggling to keep perfectly even against the planet gravity pulling from below. The dusty haze of the sky slid down just enough to reveal a shallow ridge of mountains, their sides a mix of dark green foliage and a dry, russet soil she’d grown familiar with over the past hour. Several roads ribboned through the mountains, one looping through just beneath them, and she caught sight of a few vehicles down below, crawling along like ants. Signs of a small town appeared in the valley beyond, dust-tinted buildings weathered and ancient, their age indecipherable in their simple, concrete designs.
According to the map, they were somewhere over Western China, close to the Tibetan border. Far from their last mission in Australia, or the one before that in Chile, and nowhere close to either Brazil or Macedonia, where they’d rediscovered two of Seirlin’s Eurynome Project compounds.
The ship straightened out. In the window, blue sky returned, looking burnt around the edges.
A beep sounded in her ear, and a new countdown appeared on her visor’s HUD. She let out a slow breath and rolled her shoulders, feeling the suit respond to the movement. Beside them, Jon stood to the side, holding onto a handrail with a light grip. Ganis, small in comparison even in her mechanized suit―anyone would be small in comparison to him―already had her gun resting against her shoulder, ready to cover.
The ship banked again, this time seeming to lift, and a heavy clunk echoed through the hold. Though her suit sensors filtered the noise, she could still hear the whine of the engines from outside the helmet as they compensated for the landing.
Then, with a heavy lurch that she felt through her knees and hips, they had landed and the doors were hissing open.
They dropped down into the sun and the dust, and she hit the ground running.
Halfway up to the next ridge, the cave opened in the rock face like an old, brown scab.
Doomsday cult with another gravitational anomaly. What fun.
It might have been beautiful, once. If the hill hadn’t been strip-cut and razed, and the forest that once existed here had remained, it had all the potential of being a mystic’s abode. Instead, it stood like a crude testament to Earth’s specific brand of tragic, ugly resource-strapped legacy.
A quick hop over a crenellated barrier put them on a dusty road structure that zigzagged up the ridge, only a few old, dusty signs in Chinese and English marking the route. As they drew nearer, they began to pass signs of worship―talisman papers tagged to the border wall, ornaments in red and gold filigree hanging from the blanched limbs of a scrubby tree at the side of the road, a small roadside shrine with old, burnt offerings in it, their ash long dusted away by the wind, others made of rocks or bits of broken concrete pieces gathered from somewhere.
A group of small outbuildings appeared as they drew level with the cave. Karin scanned the low structures, noting the disheveled façades, cracked windows, and broken roofs―possibly occupied, but not her problem. Fallon had other teams who would sweep them and the main structure above.
The dry mix of dust, gravel, and broken concrete fragments crunched under her boots, and the sun beat down on her suit as they veered toward the entrance, passing a large broken concrete incense holder that had been knocked on its side. Old sticks of used incense littered the area amid other debris and trash.
Nomiki paused at the entrance, her blaster at rest by her thigh. The tiny gun looked inadequate next to Jon’s much larger assault-style rifle, but it suited Nomiki’s style more. She was built for strength and speed, preferring close distance to disable an enemy.
Karin felt similar. Though she was still adjusting to her new physical abilities, she’d already experienced that parallel between her and her sister.
In mythology, Eurynome may have been an accomplished wrestler as opposed to a warrior, but it was clear that the practical gene mods and physiological changes ran much closer to her sister’s Enyo program.
Then again, Jon, Program Ares, also had similar moves. He was just stronger and bulkier.
We made a base set of ‘warrior’ modifications that could be activated, Tia whispered into her mind.
Ah. That made sense. And, as the whisper bloomed across her awareness, the knowledge slid in, as well―as if she’d always known it, but was just starting to recall it. Vaguely, she remembered Tia talking to one of the Corringhams about it and discussing its integration at some length.
She slipped her weight to the side, mirroring her sister as they flattened closer to the rock wall. Heat radiated from the dusty stone, the sun even managing to push through her suit. A small read-out at the bottom corner of her screen indicated it was thirty-two degrees Celsius.
With a quiet whir of its grav engine and motors, a Fallon N3 drone swooped low and hovered in front of the entrance. The second fire team ran past, heading to secure the outbuildings and upper structure. She watched them run up the road, moving in tactical stops and starts, blasters up to cover each other as they disappeared from view.
The drone above them hovered for a second, the instruments on its front working, then lifted off with a whir.
“All clear,” came the voice from Mission Control back in the war room of the Courant. “Alpha Team proceed.”
“Proceeding,” Nomiki acknowledged over the comms.
Nomiki shifted back. With a click and a whir, she casually popped a small T-series drone out of her suit’s shoulder and tossed it through the opening. It skipped on the air for a second before the quiet burr of wings activated. It straightened, rotated, then followed the slope of the stairs down.
“Initial scan clear,” Nomiki said, her voice sounding closer and clearer on the team channel than it had on the wide-band. “No heat signatures detected. Karin, you follow me, Ganis after her. Jon, you protect the rear.” She paused, apparently thinking. “Sandwich Protocol.”
Ganis snorted, but otherwise said nothing about the name choice. Given Karin’s lack of military training and general inability to condense years of code and military jargon and exercises into the past six days of activity, Nomiki had adopted unconventional re-names to what she assumed were common military techniques.
The first dip of the cave was relatively simple. Though most of it was loose with a sprinkle of scree, the cave had clearly seen use and they found it easy to pick their way through. Ganis branched out to the left, rifle up and roving the cave ahead to cover Nomiki’s lead―most rifles had a built-in scanner better or sharper than the ones that overlaid their suit visors. The smell of heat and dust retreated, replaced by a soothing coolness that crept up from the shade. After a few hundred feet, the cave widened.
Karin narrowed her eyes as she stared into its depths, trying to see into the shadows.
Somewhere down below, there was a gravitational anomaly tripping both the Courant and the Pegasus’ shipboard scans.
And, somewhere down below, a doomsday cult was waiting for them.
But first, to her pleasant surprise, a shrine appeared out of the gloom.
Given its Buddhist lean, she guessed it was the cave’s initial worship site. Hundreds and hundreds of small statuettes of varying styles and size
s collected on the walls, surrounding a much larger statue that stretched a full two meters high and depicted a figure in repose with roughly ten different arms, each holding a different item or making a different gesture. Old, dusty offerings accompanied what had to be the remains of thousands of incense sticks and burnt out candles. Three kneeling pillows lay askew in front of the statue, along with a wooden cashbox that had been rent and robbed long ago.
She glanced at the statue, partially recognizing the shape. Guanyin, the goddess or saint of mercy, depending on which religion you followed and which translation you picked, was widely worshipped in the Sirius system.
Perhaps it was her, but it seemed as though a sense of quiet fell over the small group as they passed the statues and old offerings.
A second later, the hairs on the back of her neck rose all at once, and an odd sensation slid through her bones―cold and quick, like a fish darting to hide in her marrow.
Her head snapped up, almost immediately finding a Shadow by the other wall.
Ganis swore. “That wasn’t there a second ago.”
“Well, it is now,” Nomiki replied. “Leave it be. Maybe it’ll go away again. Karin?”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s a threat,” she said. “More curious than anything.”
“It still fucks me up that you can talk to them,” the Marine grumbled, veering to give the Shadow a wide berth. “Fuck.”
Karin kept her mouth shut. Technically, anyone could ‘talk’ to the Shadows. She didn’t do anything more special than opening her mouth and making words come out of it.
But not everyone could have the Shadows reply back. And not everyone had the Shadows so intently focused on them.
At least they’d stopped attacking, for the most part.
That would change the second Sasha got involved, though.
Which was why they needed to find her.
A rush of static prickled her skin, and her attention slid back to the Shadow.
As if watching a movie, the Shadow turned its head and looked toward the cave up ahead.
Karin shifted, following it. Nomiki was sweeping her flashlight around, glancing over a series of murals painted onto the rocks.
Movement shifted farther into the cave. She glanced over, and saw a man aim a rifle.
She lunged forward. “Nomiki! Heads up!”
The bullet cracked against her sister’s helmet. Immediately, their HUDs lit up the field, back-tracing the shot and searching for opponents. Nomiki flinched, swore, then launched forward.
Behind her, the crack of answering laser-fire came as Jon and Ganis joined the fight.
Well, guess we’re going in fighting.
She ducked, following her instincts into a roll down the next slope. A bullet cracked into her shoulder, and her HUD lit up her suit in red, showing the impact dispersal in the corner of her screen. Pain numbed like a surface bruise across her shoulder and chest.
But, a second later, her combat modifications kicked in, and everything changed.
The cave sharpened, focused. Adrenaline crashed through her veins, followed swiftly by a cocktail of pain suppressants and steroids. She rolled out of her tumble and into a low sprint, a snarl tracing her lips as her powers reached out, warping the universe around her.
The next three bullets slipped into the other world, cracking the quiet of the Shadows with a series of thuds. Her breath roared in her ears, her feet a crash of pounding on the floor. Her brain caught on three people crouched in varying parts of the cave―three sets of eyes, attention drawn to her. A second later, her HUD tagged them, painting their weapons in red for her.
One, a woman, raised her gun at her.
She twisted, felt the universe bend.
The bullet slid past her shoulder and into the other world, cracking harmlessly against a wall. With her other hand, she directed a splice through the center of the gun, slicing the firearm clean in half just ahead of the trigger.
It was quick and quiet. Nothing fancy. No lights or cameras.
One second, the woman had a gun in her hands. In the next, she had half a gun, and was pulling on the trigger uselessly.
Power crackled through Karin’s veins. For a second, everything seemed to go still. A hush fell over them, broken only by the tap and crack of her boots and the rustle and click of her suit. From across the room, she could feel the Shadow’s gaze on her. Its Shadow dimension pulled at her, images of its quietude and hushed presence sliding through her mind.
She shook them off. In her head, Tia had already focused on the other two soldiers.
The dimension rippled as she brought her power to bear.
She clipped the second man’s gun the same as she’d done the first―a simple cut and shove job to the other dimension―but the third man was holding his too close for a clean cut. If she tried at this distance, she’d likely slice into his chest as well.
Instead, she shoved him bodily into the other dimension and stepped in after him.
The Shadow realm enveloped her in quiet immediately.
It was like stepping around a curtain. Too real to the metaphorical Wizard of Oz for her liking, but that was the truth. One second, they were in the cave full of shouting, dancing lights, cracking guns and blasters―then, the cave had grown quiet and still and dark.
Without Jon and Nomiki, it was just her own light that illuminated the surroundings.
And in the Shadow world, the darkness felt so much…more.
The colors were off, too. Where before they’d been tinted a distinct spectrum of brown shades, the occasional streak and speckle of white catching the light, it was as if someone had toggled the desaturation button on an image filter. It all seemed drained. Gray. Her light cast onto the few meters ahead of her, shining on rock and dirt. Dust hung in the air, creating a haze that shone in the whiteness of her light.
The Shadow had followed her over, too. She could feel its gaze on her back.
Her suit beeped when it registered the comms and sat link disconnect.
She ignored it, focusing instead on the surprised gasp of breath that came from ahead and to her right.
The man scrambled along the wall, wide-eyed in the beam of her light, and she let her gaze slide over him, quietly assessing.
His looks matched the area―Asian descent, likely a mix of Han Chinese and one of the local peoples, which wasn’t surprising. Earth wasn’t as much of a genetic mix as the rest of the systems. Here, ethnicity actually had a meaning. His close-cropped black hair was coated in dust, along with the rest of his face and clothes. By the streaks on his shirt and shoes, and the darker markings around his knees, he’d either fallen or been laying down, or had been working on something previously. Another stain, a bit like milk or paint, had soaked into his shoulder from another time.
She paused.
Actually, he looked like he’d been painting.
A frown pulled at her brow as he began to speak.
The precise dialect of his language was out of either her or Tia’s scope, but its tone wasn’t. They both frowned when they heard the fear in it, the desperation.
He was begging her. Pleading for something.
We look like a god damn government assassin, Tia said. Can you imagine? Of course he’s begging. Anyone would be.
If he didn’t want government assassins coming after him, maybe he shouldn’t have joined a doomsday cult, she replied.
But, even as she thought the words, they felt off to her. Even Tia felt it.
Something’s wrong, Karin thought.
I agree.
She pressed a button on her suit to allow her comms to broadcast.
“Do you speak System?” she asked.
He dropped into silence, visibly flinching at both her gesture and her speech. His eyes darted up and down, taking in the gun at her hip, then moved to the rest of the cave that sat in darkness.
“How about English?” she tried again, switching between languages. “Do you speak English? Français? Español?”
He frowned at her, his mouth opening, then closing.
Eventually, he shook his head.
Shit, she said to Tia. I’m out of languages.
And I left most of my language core in the god-damned tank, the doctor grumbled.
Charades it is, then.
She lifted her hands, making a gesture toward the gun the man still held. “Give me the gun.”
He eyed her, and didn’t move.
She pointed at it, then herself. “The gun. Give it to me. No one has to get hurt.”
You realize that gesture could imply that you want him to shoot you, or do something else with the gun? Tia asked dryly.
Theater wasn’t my strong suit. I’m hoping he’s smart enough to fill in the context clues.
She gestured again, this time taking a step forward.
He flinched back, his hands jerking the gun up. Dust rose in the air between them, disturbed by the scuff of his feet on the ground. Once again, his eyes darted from her, eyeing the darkness around them.
Gods. This was stupid. Of course he wouldn’t obey her―she’d literally transported them into another dimension. Why the hells should he trust her?
“Come on,” she said, more to herself than him as she took another step closer. “Just hand it over, and we can all go home.”
But, before she could take more than a step, the darkness shifted beside her.
The man yelped as a Shadow stepped out of it, walking toward him. The gun came up, aim drifting toward the Shadow, and adrenaline slammed through her as she watched its muzzle turn. She leapt forward, grabbed its end, and wrenched it down. A bullet cracked off, and a swathe of pressure struck down the inside of her leg. A second later, she smashed an armored elbow into his face and shoved the muzzle down to the ground.
Despite his resistance, the end of the muzzle cracked hard into the ground. With a jerk of her arm, she snapped the strap that attached it to him, forced the firearm from his grip―another bullet cracked off, a brief flute of fire and a spark on the wall some meters behind her―and smashed it terminally into the wall.
He yelled and punched at her. Briefly.
She threw an elbow back. To his credit, he dodged, but he couldn’t evade her next grab. She caught his ankle and pulled, feeling the suit’s mechanisms kick in to aid the strike.
