by Isaac Hooke
“So much for Surus coming to the rescue,” Manic said.
The remainder of the team arrived shortly thereafter, carried in the mandibles of the gatorbeetles. Harlequin and Ms. Bounty followed on foot, escorted by two warrior aliens like royalty. They had removed their helmets, which swung from the attachments on their utility belts, but otherwise they had kept wearing the remainder of their jumpsuits, including the jetpacks. The third Artificial, Tantalus, followed just behind them, dressed only in blue fatigues.
Rade noticed that all three of the Artificials carried laser rifles slung over their shoulders, and blasters at their belts. Ms. Bounty also had the Phant stun rifle, recognizable by the slightly flared muzzle.
Harlequin opened his mouth. Though his lips didn’t move, the chittering language of the aliens came from his throat.
The gatorbeetles promptly glued the new prisoners into empty alcoves, with one alien holding a given Argonaut in place while another expectorated yellow slime upon the limbs of the prisoner. In moments everyone was bound.
“Well,” Harlequin said, stepping forward. “It’s the Argonaut family reunion. The hunters have become the hunted.” He extended his hand behind him, toward Ms. Bounty.
She reached for the black box hanging from her harness and stepped forward. Ms. Bounty seemed very different. She moved more sensually, for one, her hips swaying ever so slightly: Rade wasn’t sure how she pulled it off in that jumpsuit. When she glanced at him, her eyes seemed wanton, a permanent smirk resting on her lips. She was extremely beautiful to start with, but now she smoldered. Rade found himself unable to meet those eyes for very long. He refused to allow her to arouse him, and reminded himself of the woman who was more important to him than anyone in the galaxy.
Ms. Bounty gave the black box to Harlequin. The Artificial approached the glass container and stared at the green liquid within.
“And so our ancient enemy has come to bother us once again,” Harlequin said. “We weren’t bothering anyone. We planned to stay here and live out our lives in peace. At least until our geronium ran out. But then you had to come here and violate the sanctity of our home.” He shook his head. “This cannot be brooked.” Harlequin glanced at Tantalus. “If you will.”
Tantalus joined Harlequin in front of the glass container and took the proffered black box. Harlequin stepped to one side and glanced at Ms. Bounty. She nodded, then positioned herself in front of the container and lowered the Phant stun rifle from her shoulder, aiming it at the green liquid inside.
The eyes of Tantalus seemed to defocus. A moment later a glass panel at the front of the container opened.
The green liquid inside the container immediately surged forward, attempting to escape, but the Phant couldn’t flow past the invisible boundary created by the metal disk on the floor.
Tantalus placed one foot inside, being careful not to touch the disk, and reached up toward the metal circle embedded in the ceiling, the twin to the one in the floor. Keeping its head and upper body outside the invisible three-dimensional cylinder created by the two disks, the Artificial attached the black box to the disk and retreated.
The panel sealed. Ms. Bounty lowered the Phant stun rifle, letting it hang loose once more from her shoulder strap.
The green liquid floated upward, halting at the vertical center of the tank. The trapped Phant began to revolve, flattening into a wide saucer. A background hum filled the air, growing in pitch. The entity became a blur, and individual droplets floated upward, clumping together half a meter higher. More and more of those droplets flew from the saucer, coalescing into a sphere above. When all of the liquid had joined that sphere, it floated upward into the black box. The smaller container sealed, trapping the Green within.
The humming sound receded and the main panel opened once more. Tantalus carefully reached inside and retrieved the box. The Artificial handed it to Harlequin.
Rade attempted to activate the remote interface on the black box, intending to release Surus, but he received an access denied message. Their captives had changed the codes then. Too bad.
“TJ,” Rade transmitted on a private line that included only his core team members. “See if you can hack into that box.”
“I’m already on it,” TJ replied. “Doesn’t look good, though. We made it basically unhackable.”
“Then how did Harlequin and this Tantalus character change the codes?” Fret said.
“Once the Black assumed the body of Ms. Bounty,” TJ said. “It would have had access to her entire memory, including the existing codes we used. With those codes, it would be a simple matter for the Black to apply a new set.”
“This is going to become the centerpiece of my new collection,” Harlequin said, gazing at the black box. He attached it to his harness. “Along with the skulls of all of you. I will refer to them in the days to come, when I reminisce upon the fools who so vagrantly attempted to kidnap my Queen. My enemy will stay by my side, trapped for millennia, at least until I have a chance to toss the Green into the core of a star. I must thank you, by the way, for providing us with new Artificial bodies. Do you know, when we first came here, we were forced to share Tantalus?” He glanced at Ms. Bounty. “Then again, I suppose we’re not going to use these bodies for very long. We will return to the Conquered, whose senses are far more attuned to the ways of pleasure. Before I do so, I am going to reprogram this one. The one you call Harlequin. He resists, but he will be mine. And he will join Tantalus at my side.”
Tantalus smiled knowingly. “I resisted, too, at first. But that path only leads to suffering.” He glanced at Harlequin. “Will you reprogram some of the humans, too?”
Harlequin frowned. “I think not.” He glanced at Rade and said, by way of explanation: “We brought human pets here with us to this place. But they all died. I have learned my lesson. Do not rely on humans.”
Ms. Bounty stepped forward seductively, her eyes locked on Rade.
“I think they should pleasure us while we have these bodies,” Ms. Bounty said. “I’m used to mating constantly throughout the day. Before I return to the Conquered, I wish to do the same with one of them. Let me have him, my King.”
“They are yours, of course,” Harlequin said. “Which one would you like to start with?”
Her eyes never left Rade. “I only want him. The rest can die.”
seventeen
The gatorbeetles severed the binds and dragged Rade from the tunnel. They carried him deeper into the nest.
“If an opportunity to escape comes, take it,” Rade sent his team. “Don’t come back for me.”
“Of course we’re coming back for you, boss,” Tahoe said.
“If we have to fight through hell we’ll come for you,” Shaw said. “Whatever happens, don’t let them break you.”
“I’ve never been broken,” Rade told her. Though he had certainly come close, on occasion.
“And remember, I’ll always—” But Shaw cut out before she could finish.
He glanced at his overhead map, worried that someone had harmed her. But then he realized the ping times associated with the blue dots of his team were trending toward infinity—indicating that the connection had been lost. He was too far, the tunnel walls providing too much interference.
After a journey through many different caves and caverns, most of them visible only on the LIDAR band, the alien that held him finally entered a small chamber with no exits and threw him down. A vertical bar of light in the corner provided dim illumination on the visual spectrum.
Rade attempted to rise, but the alien forced its mandibles down upon him, pinning him to the floor.
There was a mat nearby, he saw, but otherwise no other furniture.
Harlequin entered the chamber, as did Ms. Bounty and Tantalus.
Harlequin chittered something at the gatorbeetle and it released Rade. Harlequin had drawn his blaster, and beckoned with it toward the mat.
“Lie down,” Harlequin ordered.
Rade got up, gave the g
atorbeetle that had held him a scowl, then moved to the mat and lowered himself.
“Take off your helmet,” Harlequin said.
Rade hesitated. He knew that if he did that, he would lose his psychic protection against the Black. That he hadn’t experienced any psychic attacks so far told him that the shielding definitely worked.
“The helmet...” Harlequin said.
Rade checked the air safety. According to his suit sensors, it was breathable, but like Lui had said earlier, mildly toxic: he probably wouldn’t be able to last for more than a few hours before having to don the helmet again.
He reluctantly raised his arms, opened the necessary latches, and removed his helmet. The air smelled acrid—he was reminded of the smell a cockroach made when stepped on, except magnified twofold. It also burned his nostrils, throat, and bronchial passageways slightly. His face felt cool compared to the rest of his body.
As he set the helmet down beside him, the scene changed.
Rade was no longer lying on a mat in the nest, but sitting on a reclining chair at the beach. An umbrella blotted out the sun. Waves lapped against the white sand in front of him. Tanned bikini-clad women walked by, occasionally casting sly glances his way. Beside him a small, round table was set in the sand. A Bloody Mary with a fresh stick of celery rested on the side closest to him. On the farther side was a glass of vodka. Beyond the table, under a second umbrella, resided another reclining chair. In it sat Alejandro, his childhood friend.
“This is the life,” Alejandro said. “Fifteen hard years, and now retirement. The Dissuader profession has been good to us.”
“It has,” Rade agreed.
Alejandro seemed pensive, then began to chuckle to himself.
“What is it?” Rade asked.
“Remember when we tried to sneak across the border all those years ago?” Alejandro said.
“How can I forget,” Rade said.
“Can you imagine what would have happened if we had actually succeeded?” Alejandro said. “Caramba. We would have been drafted into the military. That was the stupidest idea you ever had, especially considering all the Alien Wars that have been fought since then.”
“I suppose it was,” Rade said. “Good thing I had you there to talk me out of it.”
“I didn’t do much talking, did I?” Alejandro said. “Versus throwing you out of the truck. What was that guy’s name? The Navajo who tried to convince us to stay?”
“Tahoe,” Rade said.
“Ah yes, Tahoe,” Alejandro said. “That guy was loco. I feel sorry for him. He’s probably dead by now.”
“Probably,” Rade agreed.
Alejandro was quiet for some time and they people-watched in silence.
“Hey,” Alejandro said. “Did you see that mamacita? I think she wants a piece of this. Hey, mamacita! Mamacita!”
“She’s ignoring you,” Rade said.
“Ahh,” Alejandro said. “I was too slow.”
“Well why don’t you run after her and talk to her instead of shouting at her?” Rade asked.
“Ha!” Alejandro said. “Like that works. Besides, not my style. These chicks, they have to come to me, my brother. I’m the fisherman here. And my sexy bah-dy is the bait.”
Rade took a sip from his drink, then set it down to watch the waves gently lapping against the shore.
Alejandro sighed. “I have something very important to tell you, but I don’t want to. I want to prolong this moment instead.”
Rade frowned. “What’s on your mind?”
“Ah, never mind,” Alejandro said.
“No,” Rade said. “Tell me, Alejandro. Don’t hold back, leaving me in suspense like that. We’re brothers. Come on, you can tell me anything.”
“I suppose I can. Fine.” Alejandro leaned closer to him. “None of this is real.”
Rade chuckled. “What are you talking about?”
“No, I’m serious,” Alejandro said.
Rade glanced at Alejandro’s drink, thinking his friend was drunk, but he’d hardly touched it.
“All right, I’ll humor you.” Rade reached toward his eyes, searching for an aReal device or other virtual reality visor. His fingers touched bare skin. “See, nothing there.”
“This isn’t augmented reality, bro,” Alejandro said. “But a mind attack. You and I, we succeeded in crossing the border all those years ago. We joined the navy. The MOTHs. You and Tahoe survived the First Alien War, and all the succeeding wars. I didn’t. I’m dead, Rade.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Rade said. “This isn’t funny, Alejandro.”
“I wish I were joking,” Alejandro said. “Listen to me very carefully. In a few minutes, your mind is going to be reprogrammed. You’ll believe yourself someone else entirely. Already you’ve forgotten your military years.”
“Alejandro, look—” Rade began.
But Alejandro talked over him. “You’ll be asked to perform brutal acts against the men you fought with for the past fifteen years. You’ll be asked to kill a woman named Shaw.”
That name stirred a vague emotion inside Rade, but he couldn’t quite place her, or the emotion.
“I want you to promise me you’ll find a way not to do it,” Alejandro said. “She’s important to you.”
“I don’t know how,” Rade said.
“Think of a mnemonic to associate with her name,” Alejandro said. “Shaw. She Has Always Won. Repeat it.”
“She Has Always Won?” Rade said.
“Yes. She’s always won your heart.” Alejandro lifted his hand. “Now rub your thumb and forefinger as you say it, like this. Shaw. She Has Always Won.”
“This is silly...” Rade said.
“Do it you motherfucker!” Alejandro shouted, the veins in his neck cording. “If you are truly my friend, then you will do this! I’ve never asked you anything. Never! But I ask you this now. This one time, I’m begging you, do what I say. We don’t have time to dally. Trust me.”
Rade stared at his friend, stunned.
“Say it!” Alejandro yelled.
“Shaw,” Rade said. “She Has Always Won.”
“Rub your fingers together!” Alejandro said. “And say it again!”
Rade massaged his thumb and forefinger together. “Shaw. She Has Always Won.”
“Again,” Alejandro said.
Rade did so.
“Again. Again.”
After roughly ten repetitions or so, Alejandro nodded to himself. “That should do. I’m sorry for yelling at you, but this is some serious shit, bro. If you fail here, well, you’ll be a slave for the rest of your life, short as it will be. And your men, and the woman you love, they’ll be gone forever.”
Rade shook his head. “You mystify me sometimes.”
“I know,” Alejandro said. “It was good to see you again, my brother, if only one last time. You’ll join me here yet. But not for quite a while. And when you do, it will be with Shaw. And you’ll thank me for what I did here today.”
“All right,” Rade said, confused.
And then the beach was gone. Instead, he was floating in the darkness of space. No, not floating, hurtling. Stars streamed by as he neared the galactic core. He flew past blazing coronas and ringed gas giants. Finally he neared the black hole at the center of the galaxy. Or at least he thought that was what it was, judging from the colorful accretion disk. In moments he had passed the event horizon, and his body spaghettified.
Shaw. She Has Always Won.
Rade resided in a cave of some sort. He lay on a mat.
“It’s done.” The King holstered a blaster.
The Queen stepped forward. “Remove your jumpsuit.” Her voice was deep, husky. She was completely naked.
Rade studied this women who was perfection embodied. He ran his gaze down her face, to her ample chest, belly button, and wide waist, lingering on her mons veneris before continuing onto her long lithe legs. Around her feet various assemblies were scattered, apparently from a jumpsuit she had s
tripped away and discarded.
Rade stood up and began to remove his own jumpsuit. The woman helped him. Her breath felt warm on his exposed skin.
When it was done, she shoved him onto the mat.
Leering, the King and his Servant watched Rade service the Queen.
eighteen
A few hours later Shaw and the others were cut down by the gatorbeetles and carried farther into the nest. They all still wore their jumpsuits, and those mandibles had clamped around their utility belts, pressing painfully into the hips.
“Where do you think they’re taking us?” Manic asked.
“Wherever it is, can’t be good,” Fret said.
Shaw didn’t really care. She only wanted to know what had happened to Rade.
About half an hour later, after taking several different branches in that labyrinthine nest, Rade’s indicator finally showed up on the overhead map.
“There he is,” Tahoe said.
Shaw tried to tap him in, but he refused to connect.
“He’s not answering,” Fret said.
“You think he’ll be happy to see us?” Manic said.
“What, you mean like erect?” Bender said.
“No,” Manic said.
“They might be bringing us to Rade so he can watch us die,” Tahoe said.
Shaw dearly hoped not. That would destroy him. Then again, if the Blacks were as psychically powerful as Surus had led them to believe, he might already be completely in their power.
She had a terrible thought.
What if they make Rade kill us?
Several minutes later the prisoners emerged into a wide cavern, lit by glow bars embedded in the ceiling. It was the most expansive cavern Shaw had yet seen in the nest. Around the perimeter successive levels of seats had been carved into the sloping rock, forming stands of a sort; those stands were currently occupied with gatorbeetles lining the walls all the way to the ceiling. The packed stands were present on all sides, and formed a wide circle around the central area of the cavern.
