by Tom Julian
Sergey sidled up next to Gray as he continued to admire the Sabatin rig. “Our lawyers won’t let us say it’s indestructible, but you might.”
“Timberwolf gave us a thorough demo, thanks,” Gray said with his hand to the glass.
Windwhistle was the first to look into the next display window. He jumped back and the others laughed at him. A non-living replica of a Sabatin such as Wrath lurked within, razor-tipped tongue exposed and claws inches from the glass. They admired the display for a few moments and when they moved to the next window jaws dropped. They beheld a replica of a massive Sabatin, four times the size of Wrath, a giant claw crushing the hood of a car. It had three massive horns on its head and limbs the size of tree trunks. The placard below read:
TRIKE: Combat Demolition
“If you get sick of bulldozers, I guess you can use these,” Warner said.
Past the replicas were a series of video posters—Sabatin in Action! read a banner. Sabatin were barreling through hallways, tearing apart vehicles, routing a trench-line of men. The men’s faces faded as they watched the displays. They looked like little boys.
“What, no sales pitch?” Gray said to Sergey.
“These don’t need it,” he said, without looking up from picking his nails.
Windwhistle shuffled anxiously. “Nothing live-fire here.”
“Just wait,” Sergey responded.
DIVERSION
Timberwolf dropped one foot in front of the other. He ran alongside what appeared to be tracks in the dust, the skeletons of the bone yard towering above him. Curious, he released micro-drones from his rig to scan the spaceship carcasses. There were 44,811 dead ships here from over seventy different species. Many were human, Glox, and Szykul, but there were also products of several other unknown intelligences.
He liked running in a rig and hadn’t run very much in this Sabatin armor yet. It had suspension like a dream. It felt like he was trotting down the beach. He’d actually done that in basic once, ran along a beach in Costa Rica with his squad. He’d never gotten to do it again.
He tried to hack into Highland’s security grid and was unable to access any remote ports. As he got farther into the facility, the effective radius of his micro-drones diminished. Beyond visual sensors, it was hard to know what was around the next bend. One thing he was sure of was that the Arnock had not yet landed. When they’d appeared before over Highland and destroyed the wrecker, Timberwolf had felt more than just Kizik. He’d felt thousands of them nearby, excited minds stretching out.
Timberwolf saw the train at the end of the railroad and slowed his run. He scanned forward and it didn’t look like there was anyone lying in ambush. He approached the train and saw footprints in the dust, human and Phaelon and the long three-toed tracks of what must have been the Sabatin. The front light on the train illuminated another huge door; this one too left slightly ajar by Gray’s party. A bar of soft golden light escaped.
He slipped in and found himself at the top of the marble stairs. He took in the view for a moment. It was like nothing he had ever seen and Timberwolf had spent half his life fighting through some of the most amazing places in this part of the galaxy. He took in the perfect golden orb that hung near the ceiling maybe a half-mile up. He scanned it and did a triple check against his readings. The object at the top of the cavern was 96,000,000 miles away. It wasn’t an artificial creation, but an actual star. The space-time continuum bent sharply up towards the ceiling and this sun existed in what could best be described as the localized event horizon of a singularity. Relatively, it had a radius of forty-five yards. In actuality, it was the size of Earth’s sun.
The ability to create a marvel such as this stunned Timberwolf. There is no way this place can fall to Gray or the Arnock. He thought of Dr. Tier standing where he stood, looking at what he was looking at. What would she do with this kind of power? Maybe no one should control the place. Maybe it should be destroyed.
He descended the marble staircase. Meta appeared before him, her tune playing. “Hello, and welcome to the Highland Industrial Defense Park.”
Timberwolf brushed through her and she flickered. He scanned over the landscape with his heads-up. About a mile away he saw the figures of Gray’s party moving. They were approaching a garden along a curving stream. He could catch up to them in just a few minutes and end this, then turn his attention to the Arnock.
He went to take a step and received a frantic message from Achilles.
Achilles301: Timber! I need you to activate our security system. The Arnock are landing soon. I’ll guide you to the controls.
Timberwolf4545: I’ve got Gray in my sights.
Achilles301: Please, they can’t land!
Timberwolf looked through his heads-up to Gray’s party. The Sabatin would give him trouble, but he felt he could still kill Gray within a few minutes, and then he’d double back and deal with the security system. He tried to leap forward, but the suit prohibited it. He pulled against the machinery, unable to get the servos to budge.
Timberwolf4545: You even need me?
Instead of responding, Achilles projected an arrow onto Timberwolf’s heads-up. It spun as he swiveled his head and he followed it to the side of the cavern. The arrow pulsed when it got him to where he needed to go and Timberwolf scanned the dust. There was a hidden entranceway in the ground. He lifted it open with a latch and descended a narrow staircase.
At the bottom of the staircase, he illuminated a sign with an arrow that read Infiltration Office. Dull yellow lights in the drop ceiling flickered on down a long hallway and he began walking. Suddenly, a clear security partition fell in front of him and another behind, trapping him.
Timberwolf4545: Little help, Achilles?
FORENSIC
Shuttle Santa Maria—Over Highland
Salla fiddled with the thumb drive. It was the one she had pretended to throw out on The Outpost, filled with historical video clips from Timberwolf’s helmet cam. She had been trying to restore them using terminals on Santa Maria, but hadn’t had any success.
Achilles scanned the scopes obsessively, looking for the Arnock ship. He should have been able to find it, since he built it and knew exactly how the cloak worked. They must have adjusted it though. That voids their warranty! Shaking his head, he decided to take a break.
“What’s that?” Achilles motioned to the thumb drive Salla held.
“They were videos of Timberwolf, but they deleted themselves.” She smirked and bent the thumb drive, almost breaking it. Achilles took it from her and scanned it quickly with his smart-device.
“There, they’re restored.” He handed it back to her. “It’s from The Clergy, by the way. They’re trying to play in this game, for whatever reason.” Achilles went back up to the controls, and started to obsessively scan the surrounding space again.
She raised her eyebrow and stuck the thumb drive into her smart-device. She found that the files were clearly labeled now with things such as: Cairo Sunrise, Deminar Insurgency, and Purity Hospital. She continued to flip through a preview of each file before flipping back. Purity Hospital was a mental institution.
Starting the video, she didn’t get what she expected.
Timberwolf was laughing and speaking to someone that he knew well. He had a bandage over one eye and the signature purple blotches from vacuum exposure on his cheeks. He was speaking to Gray. The camera panned and they sat across the table from one another. Timberwolf wiped his eye from laughing so hard. They were clearly reminiscing about something and Gray seemed extremely glad to see him. Timberwolf’s laughter faltered to that of breaths of relief.
“You okay?” Gray asked him.
“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded.
But he clearly wasn’t. He shivered and rubbed his arms. “I’m fine.”
The video jumped to Gray sitting in a separate room behind a desk. His name appeared on the screen below him. “Colonel Velez has no recollection of the events from Project Jackhammer. The encounter with the Arno
ck, Kizik, on RP-10-10 has been suppressed. He currently believes his lifter went down before they got to the target. He knows he’s the sole survivor. He’s been physically injured so as to approximate what he would have received in a lifter crash. He’s in stable condition and mobile. It’s been two days since Jackhammer.”
The video panned. Sitting next to Gray was the woman Salla had seen in one of the first videos she had watched back on The Outpost. The name Dr. Thea Tier appeared on the screen under her for a few moments before fading away. “We will be awakening the memories starting tonight. He seems to realize there’s something not right. We have to act now before the Arnock presence begins to manifest itself without any context. Colonel Velez is an extremely strong mental specimen, but we’re at a critical time. If this fails, we move directly to termination.”
“He’ll be fine,” Gray said, looking sideways at her. “I have the highest confidence in our specimen.”
The video jumped and Timberwolf sat in a hospital room at the edge of a bed. The room was dark, save for a small light from a desk. This feed was from a surveillance camera. It zoomed in on his face, focusing. He blinked, long and hard again and again, like he was trying to clear something from his mind. Every time he opened his eyes again, there was something less on his face, a piece of him slipping away. His mouth started to drop open in realization and Dr. Tier’s voice was heard. “Timberwolf? Timberwolf? Colonel Velez? Do you understand what is happening to you?”
“No. What is this?” he begged.
“It’s Kizik. On RP-10-10 you were exposed to the Arnock master.”
“That’s fatal!”
“What’s that feel like?” she asked.
“I don’t know. It’s like I have a passenger. It’s male. He’s small. He’s taking up more and more room. He’s fucking angry.”
“I want you to…”
Achilles snatched the smart-device from Salla’s hand, his sudden action jarring her. “I have to kill Timberwolf, right now!”
THE SACRAMENT
Past the Sabatin display, the party walked along a stream. The sun shined brightly and cedar trees threw long shadows. The dust was completely cleared away here and they walked over a real dirt path. The soil was earth-like in its consistency, warm and rich brown. Warner bent down and put a generous handful in his pocket. In the stream, frogs leaped from lily pads and small water snakes slithered along the bank. The bottom of the stream was cleared of the dust in stripes, and tiny spherical machines made their way across the streambed, consuming the stuff.
Warner had Jan, a steady man, take point. He wasn’t tentative and moved ahead of the group on alert for surprises. The stream tapered off and over the path was another neon sign. This one read, Property Defense. Beyond it was a garden and exotic flowers stood almost as tall as a man. Droma reached in and picked one, taking in its rich aroma, her back scales fluttering. They passed a pool filled with Koi and Meta’s tune played again. She appeared in front of them, inhaling the aroma from a flower just as Droma did. “Don’t you want to protect your most personal places? Your getaway for reflection may be where you’re most vulnerable.”
She disappeared and the party continued again, moving alertly and watching for threats, Jan leading them. A flower tracked the group, turning its face as they walked past. Unknown to them, other flowers began tracking them as well, slowly rotating and opening their petals. Jan sensed something was odd in the garden, but he wasn’t sure what. A flower in a clump of others seemed to sneeze and something grazed his wrist above his glove. He looked down and saw tiny flechettes stuck into his wrist gauntlet.
“Just a scratch. Move on,” Warner said. The party continued walking, Jan still on point. As the garden thinned out, Gray noticed red spots in the dust.
“Jan!” Gray called. The man turned. Blood oozed from under his armor. He pulled off his glove and found his wrist to be a swollen, red mess. Jan fell to his knees and Michael cracked open his gauntlet. His arm was open past the elbow, gushing blood.
“Am I dying?” Jan breathed hard, his skin suddenly pale.
“You’re not,” Gray said. “Tourniquet!” he whispered sharply to Michael.
Jan was losing consciousness as Gray tightened the tourniquet around his arm. A red puddle underneath him grew bigger and deeper. Warner jammed a med-kit syringe full of nano-menders into the man’s leg, but it was too late.
“Come on son!” Gray demanded.
All at once the wound opened up almost to Jan’s shoulder and blood gushed out. He slumped over dead in a ragged, red heap. Gray held the dead young man for a moment and then laid him gently on the ground. The others gathered around, the Phaelon hanging back. Sergey disappeared behind the crowd, away from Gray’s attention. But Gray knew this wasn’t time for rage, even as a man lay dead. He’d settle accounts with Sergey later, but this moment was important.
I can use this.
Gray dipped a finger into Jan’s blood. He drew the mark of the Believer on his own forehead.
“Each of you,” he said calmly. The men formed a line, each dipping a finger in the blood and tracing the Believer symbol onto their foreheads. When they were done, they stood in a circle, Michael and Warner joining them.
“That was a sacrament,” Gray began, his head down. “God loves our sacrifice. God loves that boy; Januarius Patrick DiPaolo Revelata was his full name. A hell of a name. A pure name. Chosen by his family. He was the first to die in this new part of heaven that we’re taking in the name of God.” He scanned each of their eyes. “So he’s still here with us. Walking with us. There’s no difference between the living and the dead here.”
“We sing for him?” Michael asked.
“No. Why? He’s still with us,” Gray responded warmly. “He’s just around the next bend.” Gray waved off into the distance, to the way they would be going next. “Just off that way.”
Without a word, they all began to walk again, eager to travel the way Gray had indicated. One of the men knelt beside Jan. Sergey tapped his shoulder. “Might not want to touch the body. Those anti-coagulants will kill you and he’s got some stuck in his glove. Unless you want to, you know, see heaven up-close or whatever it was he said.”
The man got up and began walking with the others. Michael and Warner fell in beside each other a moment. “That sound crazy to you?” Warner asked.
“Depends on if he meant any of it,” Michael responded. The truth was Michael had no idea. Gray could still be play-acting for the faithful, in order to drive this drama to the result he wanted. “I think we’re looking at a fifty-fifty bullshit ratio here.”
“I don’t know. I sort of like it,” Warner said in his creaky old voice. “I want to live forever.”
In front of them, Sergey stood in the path in front of a sensor. He lifted his arm up and down, like he was adjusting something unseen. “What the hell are you doing?”
Sergey wiped sweat from his brow. “It’s hot in here. I’m turning down the sun.” He snapped his fingers and almost at once, a wall of gray clouds collected in front of the sun and the place suddenly darkened. The soft golden light was gone and the long shadows in the cavern disappeared, replaced by the diffused light of the overcast.
Michael stuck his rifle to Sergey’s back. “You. Move.”
A bitter cold wind came through the place and Sergey shivered. “I like it cold.”
TOM AND JERRY
“Why are we killing Timberwolf?” Salla asked Achilles. He moved about the cabin of the Santa Maria in a flash. He went from screen to screen, shutting them down. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Removing distractions.” He settled down into the command chair and breathed. “I have to pick either Tom or Jerry.”
She had no idea what he was talking about.
“Which one kills him?” Achilles asked himself. “Tom. He’s the deadly one. Jerry is something else.”
“Okay—what’s going on?” she asked. He tried to explain but couldn’t breathe. “Please calm down,
” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
“He’s under The Catalog. Near the Infiltration Office. Security gates are falling.”
“And this means?”
“Means he’s trying to shut down Highland’s planetary defense.”
“Shit,” she said.
“Kizik is making him do it. Must be. Tom is behind his left ear. It’s less powerful than a quarter stick of dynamite, but in his helmet it’ll kill him instantly.”
“What’s Jerry do?”
“Jerry might diffuse Kizik. Maybe for a little while, but forget it. I need you to kill him. Press this button.”
“Why me?” Salla asked.
“I trust you. I don’t trust myself.”
He handed her a tablet computer. A cartoon cat and mouse with the names Tom and Jerry showed on the screen. Her finger hovered over the choices for a moment. She picked Jerry.
“What the hell did you do?!” Achilles gasped.
“This gives him a chance. We can pick Tom later.”
“No, we can’t! They’re physical components on the same fuse!”
Salla slumped back into her chair. “That’s how you built the kill switch?”
“That rig is designed to be tamper-proof. I set that up when I rebuilt it. If I was right in front of him, I might be able to do more, but that’s it.”
“Jesus! Never ask me to kill anyone again!”
“I thought you’d do it.”
“Well, think again.”
They sat in silence a moment.
“What’s Jerry get us?” she asked.
“Depends on how strong Timberwolf is.”
COPACETIC
No one had sat at the computer terminal in the Infiltration Office for fifty years. A crack went down the screen where a maintenance machine had bumped into it a decade ago. Lights flickered on and a coffee machine sprang to life. A yellow light spun and a ping repeated out over the intercom. But there was no one in there to pay it any mind or spring into action. There didn’t need to be.
