With Eyes Turned Skyward

by Gregory Stravinski

  Cliff keeps his eyes forward. “Corporal Clifford James,” he responds.

  From eight feet away, I can hear his breath quicken.

  I coil my muscles. I’m not losing one of mine.

  Garon leans in. “Well Clifford, I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to kill you today.”

  Cliff’s head snaps up as he raises his hands. “Wait! Not like-”

  ‘This’ hits Cliff’s lips the same time as the bullet leaves the chamber of Garon’s gun. Tearing through Cliff’s outstretched hand, lead buries into his chest. The despair in the Corporal’s voice echoes around the chamber.

  Garon stands with his eyes closed.

  After everything, this is how my bodyguard dies; not by saving my life, but by being executed at the hands of a tyrant. Regret claws through my innards. It was so fast, I didn’t even react. The timeline for our escape jumps. We need to do this now.

  Garon finally opens his eyes. “Now that . . . That was just tasty. Mmmhhmmm. You don’t get to hear a cry like that very often.” He waves the gun at the rest of the surviving group. “You all should really count yourselves as lucky. Because that was rare.”

  All of my bravado sinks to the bottom of stomach as Garon’s boots scrape their way towards me. Framed by the Core’s blue light, his face is as featureless as Death itself. There’s no reasoning with this zealot.

  “Now you,” he says, pointing the gun downwards. “It’s your death that I’m looking forward to the most.” His clenches his jaw. “You’ve made things INCREDIBLY difficult for me.”

  I say nothing.

  He swallows, choking back a sob. “You’ve cost me my daughter,” he motions over to Raltz’s folded corpse, “one of my best commanders,” he pauses, wiping a tear away “and the respect of my men.”

  He sniffs, looking around at his guards. “Although, crying really should be allowed for such great occasions,” he laughs, his composure not quite intact.

  His guards cautiously join him. Garon waves off the laughter with his free hand. “Mr. Basmon, I must say, despite the unpleasantries, it’s been a true treat watching this experiment unfold with you.” His hollow eyes take me in. “But unfortunately for you, I’ll have your old geezer of an Admiral in hand soon, and every game must have its end . . . no matter how much fun it might be.”, he says solemnly.

  Garon’s face becomes grim as he lowers the barrel level with my forehead. “This is checkmate, my friend.”

  I close my eyes.

  Something happens when your body braces with every fiber it has. Your focus narrows to a fine point. Smells seep directly into your brain. Everything around you rings with perfect clarity. Instead of a shot, a voice shatters it all.

  “No! Wait.”

  The knot in my throat releases. Stars circle as oxygen flows back into my lungs. Concentrating on the doorway, I try identifying the familiar voice.

  Sabine makes her way through what’s left of our huddled group. Garon’s face freezes in shock, taking in his daughter for the first time in months.

  My head falls to my chest. So this is how it all came to be.

  Garon’s hand moves to his mouth as she closes the distance. “You’re alive?” he asks, his eyes flicking to her bloodied side.

  “Why did you downplay your wounds?” he says, reaching out to touch her bandaged arm. “It was supposed to be merely cosmetic damage.”

  Sabine’s cool eyes flash right past me, surveying the scene. They rest on Raltz’s corpse for just a moment, but I may have imagined it. She then turns them on her father. Standing side by side, it’s so easy to see their resemblance.

  “Even the best laid plans go awry,” Sabine answers, glancing at the shaking ceiling overhead, “You should know that by now Father.”

  It starts somewhere in the middle of my chest; it’s just a spark, but it’s enough to ignite the rest of what’s inside.

  Baltier - Samuels - Cliff. All dead because of this woman.

  Raltz. Betrayed. All of his loyalty meant nothing in the end.

  Aoife. She should never have been a part of this.

  I slam my fist against the cold floor panel. The sound reverberates throughout the chamber as invincibility seeps back into my veins.

  Garon and Sabine turn their heads as I place both feet under my knees, standing for the first time. I hear the sound of every gun in the chamber snap up. Feel their iron sights on me. I don’t care anymore.

  Garon eyes me quizzically. “And what, may I ask, do you believe you’re doing Mr. Basmon?”

  “She was just a girl!” I yell. “Just a girl waiting for her father to get home.”

  They both stare blankly at me, confused.

  My head spins. My sister’s face swaps with Aoife, back and forth.

  “That’s all she wanted,” I growl. “That, and making sure you had a smile on your face every time she saw you.”

  The smell of smoke and burnt flesh choke me. The scars burn across my hands.

  “You wouldn’t know who she was.” I bring myself to look directly both of them. A wisp of a burnt red dress floats by behind their heads. “But you . . . ”, I say to Sabine. “You came to her funeral like you had no idea you were part of it. Like you didn’t fucking kill her!”

  Sabine’s eyes hold their ice, unwavering.

  “That little girl did more for the world in six years than you’ll ever do in a lifetime,” I spit out, trying to keep myself from shaking. The sickness pushes its way in.

  Garon furrows his brow, raising his pistol at my head once more. “Huh. Let’s prove that hypothesis, shall we?”

  I tense every muscle in my body, getting ready to lunge.

  Sabine uses her free hand to pull her father’s arm down towards her. “No, Father,” she says.

  She’s fighting against the pull of the Core. Being so close could probably kill her at this distance. Blood has soaked through her bandages entirely. Her body strains against the metal inside that wants nothing more than to release itself back to the blue obelisk.

  Sabine sweeps back, taking the pistol from her father’s hand. “Let me,” she says, bringing the gun level with my eyes.

  I faced fire and hell to fight for this woman; to fight for all of us.

  Raising my chin, I meet her cool stare. “So this is how you want it to end?” I ask.

  Her father looks over at her proudly as she places her bandaged hand on his back. “Of course it is Mr. Basmon,” he says, his smile widening. “She’s a smart girl. She always knows how to put the finishing touch on our projects.”

  Silence pounds, her eyes locking with mine.

  “So true father. As always, I’m doing this because . . . ” she whispers.

  The ice melts from her eyes. “I love you.”

  A click echoes.

  It’s not the hammer of a gun, but the release of a pin. Garon eyes sweep down, turning to the origin of the sound. I barely glimpse the grenade behind Garon’s back before Sabine tackles him off of the platform. Her platinum hair whirls outward. She twists behind her father’s back, firing her pistol as she clutches the grenade to his chest.

  The guards to our left dive, her bullets finding their marks; the other half is too shocked to react. Her father’s protests go unnoticed as Sabine hugs him close. Their upward arc completes.

  The grenade and their bodies explode against the wall of the Core. They disappear into blinding light, replaced by a puncture in the Core. A blue beam bursts outwards in the perfect shape of the hole. Two guards above disintegrate in the beam’s path as it cuts another guard in half.

  Taking advantage of the confusion, I lunge for my revolver. The soldiers on the opposite platform spin, pirouetting to an orchestra of bullets. Before I understand what’s making them fall, I fire two shots into the man and woman who helped execute Raltz. It’s the least I can do. Crumpling forward, the man doesn’t even put his hands out to break his fall as his head smashes into the floor. The woman slumps, clutching her stomach. Pain etches across her fac
e as she searches for the source The muzzle kicks as I fire one more round into her, just to be sure.

  The sound rushes back. Most of the gunfire echoes from the doorway. Marines post behind either side, strafing the platform. Some of our group lay motionless on the floor, claimed by the chaos engulfing the chamber. Others scrape for their weapons, rushing towards the corridor.

  The blue beam of the Core chews through the paneling of the ramparts above. The giant pillar of light flickers. The Core pulsates as it turns, rupturing from the inside. Scrambling, I push off the floor as the tiling below gives way.

  Lunging up, my feet power under me once more. We’ve just set in motion the destruction of the heart of the Ark. Without its power, this whole place comes down. Ricochets flit off the floor around me as the survivors trade fire. Holding my breath, I make it the last few steps through the doorway, into the corridor. About ten or so of our crew wait for me there, including a familiar face.

  Baltier presses himself against the arc of the doorway, directing fire. I barely make out his words as he gestures for me to take the surviving crew back out to the Artemis.

  Scrunching my shoulders down, I wave the group back into the tunnels. Without the Core’s consistent support, the magnetite strains against its own weight. The walls shift, sparring with the remaining power.

  We come to our first intersection. There’s no way I could remember the route even if our lives didn’t depend on it. There’s little hope now.

  I stop, my eyes darting from opening to opening. “Uh . . . ”

  Footsteps thunder behind me. Baltier’s a blur, blasting past us into the tunnel on the right.

  “This way!” he shouts.

  I struggle to catch up with him.

  He looks back. “Sabine told me another route we could make it back,” he yells.

  I skid to a halt. “We’re not listening to her!”

  Baliter grimaces, but doesn’t stop running. “For fuck’s sake Baz, follow me! How do you think we got to you in the first place?”

  Perplexed, I move again, trailing behind the rest of the survivors who’ve passed me.

  None of this makes sense. Sabine set us up, then killed her own father? What changed?

  “Why’d she let Raltz die?” I yell ahead.

  “She didn’t!” Baltier echos back. “We got there right as Garon shot Corporal James.”

  Cliff’s young, unblinking eyes stare up at me in the darkness.

  “It took everything she had to pull it together and put on the show,” Baltier says, fighting to catch his breath. “I don’t care what you think - she’s a goddamn hero!”

  “Why don’t we wait to call her that after we get out of here first!” I shout back up the echelon.

  Baltier doesn’t get a chance to respond before a cry goes up. Metal splinters as our section of the hallway caves in. Sticking close the opposite wall, we keep our heads down, squeezing through the opening.

  24

  Twisting and winding through the labyrinth, we find our way back to the surface. A chill prickles my skin. We’ve made it to the upper hallways. They’re entirely empty.

  “I don’t like this,” I whisper. “Where is everybody?”

  An eruption ripples down the stairwell.

  “I think we have our answer,” Baltier muses.

  Pressing myself up to the gate above, my lungs tighten as I catch sight of the Artemis. The balloon’s checkered with blown compartments. It’ll never fly, not in the shape it’s in. This doesn’t stop Baltier though.

  Standing in the middle of the gate, he unclips his flare gun before leveling it at the the Ark’s ribcage ceiling. A green flame explodes. It arches across the hangar, illuminating the maelstrom below. The middle of the deck is chaos. Flashes of muzzle fire, coupled with the glint of sabers, indicate the Artemis is overrun. We can’t hold them.

  Baltier clips his flare gun back onto his belt and takes his rifle off his shoulder. He looks back over at me, clearing its chamber.

  I let myself breathe out. “No one said this would be easy, right?”

  “Not a one,” he says, nodding curtly.

  Pressing new bullets into my revolver, I look back to the fifteen or so survivors still with us. “You ready to make history?” I ask.

  One young woman looks back at me. “Already have Lieutenant,” she says, tapping the point of her sword on the floor.

  I manage a smile. “Well, let’s go do it again.”

  We creep over the ramparts. Although most of the Cascade are rushing the ship, we don’t need to draw any more attention to ourselves than we already have. The flare seems to have caused more confusion rather than giving away our position.

  The sound of straining hydraulics escapes from the top of the Artemis. The giant engines begin turning over to face the front of the ship. If we don’t sprint, the Artemis will leave without us.

  I’m not being left behind again.

  Most of the attackers are too engrossed in the fighting to notice us slip past them. Darting from cover to cover, we make it to the Artemis’s hull. A rope ladder hangs over the side of the exterior as it shudders to life. Baltier and I take either the side of the ladder, directing our survivors up while scanning for encroaching Cascade marines.

  A shot rings out.

  One of our escaping soldiers drops off the ladder. She hits the deck, struggling for breath. Everyone dives, finding fallen pieces of wreckage. Our black uniforms on the Artemis’s grey hull paint easy targets. We need another distraction.

  A rocket launches less than thirty feet away.

  “Cover!” Baltier shouts.

  The impact rocks the hull, tearing a truck-sized hole into the plating. I clap my hands over my ears, but ringing is the only thing I hear. The smoke clears, revealing half a bedroom set spilling out over the side of the open wound. I calculate the distance we need to jump to make it up there. Every scenario tells me it’s still too high.

  From behind my overturned cart, I spot the rocket team pinning us down. One of the Cascade soldiers picks up another warhead, moving to load it into the launcher. Before he can, a high-powered round finds his right eye. The warhead drops from his hands, landing on its trigger pin. The barricade harboring the rocket team ignites, throwing smoke and debris high into the air.

  “This is our chance!” I yell to the rest.

  I follow the path of the mystery bullet to Stenia’s crow’s nest. Always the protector. She’s probably low on ammunition by now. We’ll have to make every shot count. With her intervention, half of the team is able to scamper up the ladder before more Cascade soldiers take an interest in us.

  The flank presses in on the remaining survivors. The number dwindles due to rescue or death. Baltier, two servicemen, and I are the only ones still left. With Stenia’s help, we’re able to evacuate the remaining two marines and get Baltier halfway up the ladder.

  I start my ascent, bracing for the bullets destined to tear through the back of my ribs. Instead, a whoosh of air rises up behind me. The red of a rocket flits past the corner of my eye, arcing upwards. I shout out, but I know it won’t do anything.

  The rocket collides with Stenia’s crow’s nest, blowing it in half.

  “No!” I cry through gritted teeth.

  I’ve lost too many. There are too many dead from all of this.

  I struggle to pull myself up and over the edge of the Artemis’s deck as the burning remains of Stenia’s perch crash onto the hangar bay. An arm grabs onto my back, hauling me the rest of the way as the firing renews above me. Swinging my legs up onto the deck, I come face to face with Captain Dixon.

  “You need to get the fuck up,” she growls, “you’re not the only one who’s lost somebody today.”

  Her salutation’s a quick-acting serum. Banishing the thought of surrender, I force myself to my feet. I barely get my balance before the Ark’s hangar bay ignites, sending shockwaves rippling across the ship. The explosion sends the bay doors swinging off their hinges, disappearing into t
he abyss below.

  The engineers are out of time; they’re blowing the doors now.

  A pale light fills the hangar for what seems like the first time. Closing my eyes, I try adjusting to the sudden change. The cacophony of a hundred harried voices fills the comm in my ear. With the path cleared, the Artemis begins moving beneath me. We’re escaping this place.

  Intense heat rises from the stern. Opening my eyes again, I see fingers of flame curling up from the tail of the Artemis. We were too close to the hangar doors when they blew. If we can’t divide our forces to combat the flames and fight off the Cascade boarding parties, the ship will be engulfed before we make it out of the blast radius.

  “Fire on the aft!”

  “Where’s the CO2?”

  “Our fire suppression system is shot! We got nothing.”

  “Where are the engineers??”

  “Flush auxiliary systems. I don’t care if you’re filling buckets from the tap. Get to that fire now!”

  I reach up, switching off my comm. There’s too much going on.

  Crew members rush to fight the flames as a marine leans over the railing, pointing into the melee below. “The engineers are cut off! They’re not going to make it back!” he shouts.

  Following his hand, I see the Cascade folding in on our ranks, blocking the passage of the fleeing grease-monkeys. Without our engineers, the Artemis has little chance of surviving, especially as damaged as she is.

  Captain Dixon grips the banister, staring into the surge below. Looking back up, our eyes catch one another’s.

  “You’re going to take care of her, right?” she asks, thumbing the pommel of her saber.

  Dixon’s words sink in. “Janna, there’s got to be a better way,” I say.

  Her jaw tightens. “Not one we can work out in time. You and I both know that. You and I both know it takes a lot longer to train an engineer than a grunt,” she says.

  I flinch, crouching low as another shot buries itself in the siding. “Janna, you can’t look at it like that,” I plead.