“Her tongue was cut out when she was ten,” Gerty whispers in Alyx’s ear.
“What?” Alyx turns to Gerty.
The younger woman smiles a bit and stares almost longingly at Fern. “Her father did it. One night she wouldn’t stop talking about a toy she wanted for Christmas. He’d been on the liquor pipe most of the day.”
“So he cut her fucking tongue out?”
“Oh, for shit sake,” Row says, walking by. “Fern’s tongue was cut out during the High War by the enemy. We move out in five, ladies.”
Alyx blinks, then hits Gerty with a withering look.
Gerty snorts, shrugs. “I would’ve told you the truth eventually.”
Alyx finds herself chuckling, on the brink of laughter. Because, despite everything, she gets the joke. A joke not about Fern at all, but about Alyx. Gerty is just having fun with the new kid. Like a hazing, of sorts.
The joke wasn’t very good, but it didn’t have to be.
Alyx claps the girl on the shoulder, still chuckling, and walks away. She intends to separate herself from the others. Maybe gather her wits a bit. Since waking up from the fallen cruiser on this dead planet, she doesn’t feel right. Her thoughts are paper thin. Her intelligence seems to have fled the atmosphere. Everything that she is feels like it has been skewed and twisted out of true.
Behind her, Row says, “Dr. Wick? You okay?”
Still chuckling, Alyx waves a hand over her shoulder, nods. She can’t talk to anyone right now and realizes this is how poor Fern must feel. Wanting to talk and shoot the shit, but unable because something horrible has happened to the tongue. For Alyx, instead of missing the tongue, it’s like something between her tongue and mind has been severed. Some primitive link. She doesn’t know.
Before long, she’s away from the others enough for her to sit down and try to figure out what the hell is wrong with her. Is it being shocked back into the waking world instead of slowly reintroduced? Hyper sleep is a dangerous thing. Even after so many tests and studies on it. The false sleep is said to be perfectly safe these days, but what if there’s still glitches? What if waking up too quickly can yank something out of a person that used to define them?
None of it makes much sense.
It’s like she’s this sentient being simply floating among the Marines and not really adding anything to the search. Like she’s just there. A ghost of herself.
Well, it’s time to bring everything back together. Not only for her and the Marines, but for Sully. She needs to be whole to keep her wits about her. Needs to be her true self and do what she does best…
Find unfindable things. Find what is said can’t be found. She might be a pirate, in a sense, but at least she’s a good one. One with some morals. Money is money and needing it so badly, she has to do what she can to live. And live as well as possible. The teaching gig is just that. A partial cover up, a bit of extra money to help make life comfortable. Hunt will pay her for this little fiasco, sure, but the military likes to be weird about paying people. Sometimes it happens, most often it doesn’t.
Yes. She’s good at what she does. And—
“Well, Dr. Wick, fancy meeting you here.”
Her eyes widen. “No.”
She looks up into Vilas’s grinning, old man’s mug. His teeth are perfect. White and even. Not natural. Not real.
“Greetings, Dr. Wick. How’s working for an honest paycheck treating you?”
Gah. That smug, cultured tone of his. She draws her revolver and points it at the old man’s head. “Not as great as blowing a hole in your fucking skull.” And as an afterthought, “Ready to give back the Sythilias now?”
Vilas chuckles in his most pompous sounding chuckles. “Ah, come now, Dr. Wick. Nothing personal with that.” His eyes turn dark. “You need to learn, what’s yours is mine, that’s all.”
“You’re a theif.”
“And you aren’t? Come now. You stole it from that sacred temple. Let it go, Dr. Wick.”
Alyx pulls the hammer of her revolver back with a ratcheting click. “I will when you’re dead.”
The old man snorts, shakes his head, and glances over Alyx. “Tell her to put that thing down, will you? She’s over-reacting again.”
She shoots a glare over her shoulder, spotting Captain Row standing no more than five feet behind her. How long has he been standing there? She never heard him approach.
Alyx stands, sidestepping away from the men. “The shit is going on here?”
Row sighs. “Alyx, Vilas has agreed to assist us in the search for Company 3.”
“Does Hunt know about this?”
Row smiles gently. “She’s the one who commissioned him.”
“What? Why? This slime has no clue what he’s doing. He takes credit for other people’s discoveries.”
“She’s just mad I found the ancient Sythilias before she did.” Vilas flashes his perfect teeth at her.
“Oh for fuck sake. I found the Sythilias!”
“Not at all. I—”
“Enough,” Row boomed, silencing them both. “I don’t know what a Sythilias is and I don’t care. What I do care about is finding Company 3 and bringing them home safely. What I care about is the welfare of my platoon. What I care about is doing my goddamn job. So when you two are done bickering about bullshit, let me know. We’re out of here in two minutes.”
Row turns and tromps back to his small platoon.
“Well, how about that,” Vilas says. “Looks like we’re a team on this one.”
Alyx grabs Vilas by the collar of his crisp, camouflage jacket and yanks him close to her. She presses the muzzle of the gun to his cheek. “You listen to me. This is about finding my colleague, not about fame and fortune. Stay out of my way or I’ll blow your damn, smug head off.”
Vilas chuckles and pulls out of Alyx’s grip. His eyes are wide, almost wild. “It’s always about fame and fortune, Dr. Wick.” He straightens his jacket, clears his throat. “But I’m not here for that either. I’m here to offer my assistance.”
Alyx laughs, holsters the revolver. “And what kind of assistance might that be?”
Again, Vilas flashes her those perfect, white teeth. “Follow me, dear.”
He turns away and she holds back everything she has not to bash his skull in with the butt of her revolver. Still, she follows the old fool. Curious, despite herself. They climb a mild slope up to a small clearing and…
“What…?”
Vilas claps Alyx lightly on the back. “The best money can buy, my dear. The Sythilias paid for most of it too.”
She’s so rapt, she doesn’t even try to shoot him over the comment. Because what stands before, her everything they need (and more) to commence a thorough search. There are gliders, monitor equipment, armies of drones for both land and air, an armored trailer, and a few men whom looked tougher than the Marines, if that was even possible. Mercs, more than likely. Because of course they are.
When Alyx finally catches her breath, she manages, “When did you get here?”
“Arrived yesterday. Just waiting on you and Company A to begin.”
She looks at him. “So, you knew I was involved?”
Vilas nods. “Of course. You were in the files Hunt let me review. Decided to let bygones be bygones. You should do the same, Dr. Wick. We have the same goal this time. And I assure you I won’t steal Dr. White from you.” He winks, but his joke falls flat. At least to Alyx anyway.
She still wants to punch his smug face in, but this time he seems genuine in the shared goal. She just hopes Hunt didn’t pay him more than he’s going to be worth. Because even with all the gadgets, it takes an explorer’s imagination to find things. To see outside of the box, rather than being trapped inside.
“Jumpin’ shit weasels,” Gerty says behind Alyx. “This shit is bananas.”
Alyx shoots a smile over her shoulder at the girl.
Row steps in front of everyone. “I received communication with Hannah back at the cruiser. She has everythi
ng mostly repaired and it should be ready for our departure once we return.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Gerty spouts.
“General Hunt has deployed a rescue team, which will hover near the planet’s atmosphere if we need it.” Row points at Vilas. “This is Vilas Carvious. Yes, that one. And he’s here on commission to assist out search. As you see, he has a few things to aid us here.”
“What about the lifeforms we were warned about?” Alyx watches Row carefully as he responds.
“The scans are accurate, but according to Lance over there, the animals are migrating away from us. We’re not sure why, but that’s the reason.”
Lance is an older man, maybe in his middle forties. Only one older in the group is Vilas and Row. The thing that sets him apart from old man status is the monitor constantly in front of him. And Row doesn’t act very old. The only true old man is Vilas. Old and ugly.
“Each of us gets a glider and will be followed by Vilas in his…whatever that trailer thing is.”
“Tracker,” Vilas, says, smiling.
Row nods. “Okay, he’ll be following in the Tracker. His men will join us as added protection. Now, let’s move out. We still have a lot of ground to cover before the last known location of Company 3.”
Everyone gravitates toward the gliders, which resemble motorcycles in design, though hover over the ground about two feet. They also come equipped with brush cutters that snip off anything that will get in the way. Alyx has never ridden one before, and she’s slightly terrified.
She’s inspecting one when Vilas says, “Just like riding a bike, dear. Hop on and it will do the rest. Your throttle is on the right handgrip. Brakes on the left. Just like a bike. Everything else, it will do for you.”
“Thanks,” Alyx says. She sighs and gets on the glider.
The small monitor set near the handlebars scans her weight, body type, and eyesight. The seat adjusts itself, conforming to her. She watches the others get on their gliders without hesitation. Apparently, she’s the only one who hasn’t driven one of these things.
Figures.
Over the whirring of the gliders, Row shouts, “We have a good forty miles to go. Let’s move out and find our brothers and sisters.”
“Oorah,” the Marines yell.
Then Row takes off in the lead, Alyx follows close behind him, not wanting to be last. When they arrive at the location, she wants to be one of the first people to see it. She needs to get a grasp of it before everyone clouds her thinking.
EIGHT
After a while, Alyx comes to love the glider. It’s weird at first, but eventually she gets the hang of it and is soon gliding along without any worry at all. The woods slip by and all she can think about is why Vilas would help the military. There has to be more in it for him than the money.
Is it the artifact Hunt wants? The thing that can create a new world? She’s still not sure how that’s possible, but people like to believe in what they want.
Though it must’ve intrigued Sully, otherwise he wouldn’t have accepted the mission.
Surely Vilas won’t be stupid enough to take the artifact for himself when it’s found. The military will hunt him down and kill him for it. Especially if Hunt wants it so bad. Then again, it’s Vilas. He’s greedy, but not stupid. No. Not at all stupid. He’s the most cunning of snakes and Alyx has to remind herself not to enjoy the glider too much. It’s just part of the old man’s show.
They’re about ten miles to their destination when someone says through the glider’s COMM system, “Incoming lifeforms ahead.” Alyx assumes it’s Lance. Probably is.
“Slow gliders down to five,” Row commands.
Alyx fumbles with the brakes until the glider begins to slow. And when she comes up on Row way too fast, she clutches hard on the brakes. The force about bucks her off the glider. Thankfully, it doesn’t. She’s done making a fool of herself. She quickly accelerates until the number 5 flashes on the monitor.
“Lifeforms are large,” Lance says. “I recommend we hide and see what we’re dealing with before contact.”
“Roger that,” Row says. “Company, seek the heavy brush. Turn off the gliders. Only shoot if the lifeforms attack. Otherwise, stay quiet until I give the command to move.”
Almost in unison, the Marines say, “Roger that, Sir.”
Alyx follows Row’s lead into a strand of dense foliage. She shuts the glider off and waits.
A moment later small trees crash over in front of Row. Something groans. A deep sound that vibrates Alyx from the inside out like standing too close to a giant speaker pumping out bass. A gut trembling sensation.
The groan is followed by another. Bluish leaves seesaw around Alyx. The world is a mixture of thumps, and groans and she has yet to see the creatures responsible for it all. In her earbud, Row whispers, “Lance, where are they?”
“Right in front of us, Sir.”
And that’s when Alyx spots one. A massive creature standing about thirty feet that appear to be a mixture of a lizard and gorilla. The way it walks, it uses its front arms, very much like an ape, though its long body is covered in iridescent scales. Its head has a muddled vulpine shape, long, curved teeth poking out from the upper jaw. Its black eyes swivel in their sockets like the ancient lizards she read about in books. Chameleons. A long tail sweeps back and forth as it lumbers through the woods, knocking down trees. In its wake follows another creature of the same origin, yet slightly smaller. A strange, clear liquid seeps from the corners of its eyes, as if it’s crying.
After a few minutes, the creatures disappear into the woods and Row gives the go ahead to keep gliding.
Lance says, “No more lifeforms detected.”
“Roger that, Lance,” Row says.
The woods zip by and Alyx isn’t sure what to think right now. With Vilas joining the search, she’s more than a little suspicious. It wouldn’t be a problem, except Vilas is an asshole. A cheat. A real thief taking credit for things he didn’t find. She has to hand it to him, though. He achieved everything she wanted, even if he did it the wrong way. Maybe she would’ve ended up the same, if not for the sliver of morals stabbing her every time she thinks about stealing from other explorers.
Morals are also assholes.
She’s thinking about ways to expose Vilas for what he really is when something clanks against the side of her glider and sparks fly into her face. She screams, squeezing the brakes and swerving away from Row and the others. The glider banks off a large rock. Something under her explodes. Heat burns her legs.
The next two seconds slow down to a crawl as her gaze lifts to the huge tree directly in front of her. The tree that will end her life right here and now and—
Alyx is yanked off her glider and swung sharply around. Before she can comprehend what’s happening, Rip is telling her to breathe. He’s telling her to hold on to him as her glider explodes into the huge tree.
“She good, Rip?” That’s Row.
“Aye, Captain.”
“Stop that.”
“My bad, Sir.”
If Alyx hadn’t almost died, she might’ve howled with laughter.
“What hit her?” Gerty asks.
“Dunno,” Rip says. “Blood all over my glider’s shield, though.”
“Just a small animal then,” Row says.
“I registered no lifeforms,” Lance says in monotone.
“Well, there sure as shit was a lifeform,” Rip spouts.
“Maybe it moved too fast to register.”
Rip chuckles. “We got some little critters out there, guys. Stay alert.”
“Almost to destination,” Row says. “Stay focused. All of you.”
No one responds, but Alyx is sure they all heard. Her sights glance over the woodland whipping by. Little critters, Rip had said. But was it mere chance, or is something trying to stop them?
Not all predators are giants.
Not all are monsters…
Still, as they make their way through the woods, no one else’
s glider is attacked. So, maybe it had only been chance after all.
She shoves it all out of her mind for now. She’s had her fair share of near death experiences and it’s best not to dwell on them too much. It will drive one to madness otherwise.
“ETA in ten minutes,” Row announces in her earbud.
Well, she has to give Vilas credit, the gliders cut away all the time constraints. In no more than two hours after they crashed, they’ll be at Sully’s last known location. Finally. Then the real search can begin.
“Upon our arrival,” Row says. “I want all of you to be on high alert. There’s no tellin’ what waits for us there.”
“No lifeforms,” Lance interjects.
A long sigh. “Thanks, Lance.”
“Welcome, Sir.”
Row clears his throat. “Anyway. I want professionalism the moment we stop. I want Company 3 found and safe before nightfall.”
“Tall order, there, Sir,” Gerty says.
Row doesn’t acknowledge her and falls silent.
Alyx kind of feels sorry for Captain Row. For being the leader of an elite platoon, he has to deal with smartasses daily. Gerty and Rip being the worst of them. Row has patience. Which is a good trait to have as a leader, but damn…
They burst through a thicket into a sprawling clearing that’s almost a meadow. If a meadow is made of all rocks, of course. A few miles away stand what appear to be mountains.
“Halt,” Row says. “Stay awake, people.”
Rip stops the glider and dismounts without a word. Alyx follows, though not sure what the hell she’s supposed to be doing yet. Does she gather with the Marines, or stand back? She chooses a happy medium, standing somewhere between Row and the others. Vilas saunters over from his Tracker a moment later. And Christ, the douchenozzle is already grinning. His shiny, high-end boots crunch over the rocks.
“I want you all to spread out,” Row commands. He paces back and forth in front of his small elite platoon. “We are on search and find mission right now. I want you all to keep all your senses about you. The tiniest clue, I want it reported directly to Dr. Wick or myself. Understood?”
Dead World Page 6
