Triple Blind

by M. R. Forbes

  Hayley was suddenly aware of the Goreshin’s presence. She couldn’t see him. She was so groggy; even the colors were absent in her head. From the sound of his voice, she knew he was near the entrance to Medical.

  “Witchy,” he repeated, moving closer. “You need to wake up.”

  “The patient is in recovery,” the med-bot said. “Please refrain from causing distress.”

  “Distress?” Tibor said. “I’ll show you distress. Witchy, Violent has incoming on her sensors. We only have a few minutes.”

  The words sounded like they were traveling through mud to get from her ears to her brain. She tried to speak, but it came out as a groan.

  “Is she fixed?” Tibor asked.

  “The fragment removal was a success. The muscular repair process was a success. The flesh readjuctant was a success.”

  Readjuctant? Did that mean anything? She wasn’t hearing straight.

  “So that’s a yes?” Tibor said.

  “Affirmative,” the bot replied. “The patient requires two hours for proper recovery. Please vacate Medical until visiting hours are posted.”

  “Yeah, right. Witchy, you need to get up now.”

  Hayley tried to lift her head. It felt like it weighed as much as the Quasar. She suddenly remembered that Nibia and the other Riders were dead.

  Her heart began thumping, her adrenaline jolting through her body.

  “You are becoming distressed,” the med-bot said. “I will apply a sedative to promote your healing process.”

  “No,” Hayley said, trying to move.

  “You will not,” Tibor said.

  “Stimulant,” Hayley said. It was probably dangerous, but she didn’t care. Not now. “Fragging stimulant.”

  “That is not advisable,” the bot said.

  “You heard her,” Tibor growled. “Give her the damn stim.”

  “That is not the recommended treatment for this diagnosis,” the bot said.

  “Just do it,” Tibor said.

  Hayley groaned, forcing her body to respond. She managed to sit up, the blanket falling to her hips when she did.

  “Witchy, uh,” Tibor said.

  “You better be facing the other way,” she hissed softly, still not able to see.

  “I am,” the Goreshin replied.

  “Manual override,” she said. “Authorized. Witch doctor.”

  “What is your recommendation, Witch doctor?” the bot asked.

  “Stimulant, damn it. Fifty cc’s.”

  “Confirmed,” the bot said. She could hear it moving, getting the stimulant and loading it for injection.

  “Tibor, go to the armory,” Hayley said. “Grab as much as you can carry.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be fine. Go.”

  She heard him leave the room, at the same time the med-bot jabbed something in her arm. The stimulant burned on the way in, a burn that spread across her body as it moved through her bloodstream.

  The colors returned a moment later, pouring into her head like spilled ink. She concentrated on bringing them into focus. It was still hard to see. There wasn’t much energy to use. It was a good thing she had Medical committed to memory.

  She slid off the table, grabbing her visor and slipping it on. Then she found her underclothes on the floor. She would love to have showered and not put on dirty panties, but that wasn’t exactly an option. She abandoned Medical, moving down the corridor to the armory by memory.

  Tibor’s qi helped fill in the space when she arrived, giving her a view of the Goreshin loading rifles and magazines into a pack. He glanced at her as she entered, his qi turning an embarrassed shade of pink.

  “I didn’t mean to look,” he said. “I didn’t expect you to sit up.”

  “I don’t care right now,” she replied.

  “Well, nice tats, anyway.”

  “You better have just said tats.”

  “Yup. I didn’t realize they were there.”

  “They’re everywhere.”

  She moved past him, to the rear of the space. The team’s armor was stored back there. She stopped at her spot. She had another lightsuit, as well as a heavier battlesuit. The more powerful armor wouldn’t help much against White. She opted for the lightsuit, grabbing another anti-gravity pack to pair it with. That would help against the larger bastard’s height. She poured herself into it as quickly as possible, grabbing boots and snapping them on.

  “Gant, is there enough backup power in the Quasar for the plasma cannons?” she asked.

  “Four bolts worth,” the AI replied. “And then the ship will be dead.”

  Just like everyone on it. She shook slightly. “Can you set the targets?”

  “Do you require visual confirmation?” It chittered at its joke.

  “Anything that isn’t the racer,” she said. “Prioritize the one that looks like it has the most soldiers on it.”

  “Roger. Transferring commands. Done.”

  “What did you do?” Tibor said.

  “The AI in my visor is networked to the ship’s controls. When the Nephilim get in range, we’ll get four free shots at them.”

  “Nice.”

  “Don’t tell Quark once we get him back. He doesn’t know.”

  Tibor laughed, not questioning her belief that he was still alive. “Roger.”

  She looked at the guns aligned on the walls of the armory. She grabbed a pair of plasma pistols and a heavier rifle with a long muzzle. A sniper’s railgun. Then she hurried back to Medical to get her Uin and the data chip from her other lightsuit. She couldn’t believe she had almost forgotten them. It had to be the combination of meds making her erratic.

  The ship vibrated slightly, the Quasar’s plasma cannon firing for the first time. Were they in range already? Shit.

  She moved to another spot in the armory, opening a drawer and removing a pair of ear communicators. She pressed them to turn them on.

  “Gant, can you pair these?”

  “Pairing,” he replied. “Like a partridge in a tree.”

  “What?”

  The AI chittered at the joke only it understood.

  “Here,” Hayley said, passing the devices to Tibor. “Give one to Violent. Keep the other. Come on.”

  He took the communicators and followed her.

  The stimulant was doing its thing, causing her heart to pulse rapidly and sending all kinds of adrenaline through her body. She was jittery and nauseous, but it was better than being incapacitated. At least her arm felt better. A lot better. The med-bot in the Quasar was top of the line. It may have saved her life.

  She heard the distant explosion, the rumble of the plasma bolt hitting something four kilometers away and melting it to slag. They reached the interlock, jumping out.

  “Gant,” Hayley said, having another idea. “Only three plasma bolts, and then arm the self-destruct.”

  “Aye, Witchy,” the AI replied.

  “Self-destruct?” Tibor said.

  “It’s how they would have wanted it,” she replied.

  He nodded in agreement and respect. Then they made a break for the racer. Violent was already inside and had repositioned it for easy access.

  The plasma cannon fired again. Hayley’s vision was blinded for an instant by the heat energy of the contained gas as it washed out toward its target. It had a limited range in the atmosphere, but it was good enough. A second rumble followed, and she looked out into the distance, confirming the heat energy of the explosion against a dark backdrop.

  “Target destroyed,” Gant said.

  They made it to the car. Tibor dumped the pack of guns he was carrying into the back and then climbed in.

  “Back off a few kilometers,” Hayley said. “Be ready to back me up.”

  “Witchy, what are you doing?”

  She was already sprinting back the way she had come, sliding to a stop in front of the Quasar. She waved toward Violent, beckoning her to leave. The car lifted from the ground, turning and accelerating away.<
br />
  The plasma cannon fired again. Another Nephilim vehicle exploded in the distance.

  “Gant, arm the self-destruct.”

  “Armed.”

  “Don’t trigger it until I say so.”

  “Aye, Witchy.”

  She turned around, facing the oncoming force. She stood at attention, arms at her sides.

  Waiting.

  33

  The Nephilim transports approached. There were four of them remaining. Hayley could barely believe they had sent seven vehicles of soldiers to capture three individuals.

  The bastards really wanted the data chip.

  Hayley remained fixed in front of the Quasar. The vehicles weren’t being careful in their approach. They didn’t seem worried about additional bolts from the plasma cannon. They landed a hundred meters ahead of her. Their hatches opened, and dozens of soldiers in blacksuit moved out. They were individuals of different species and gender, conscripted residents of Kelvar.

  No wonder they hadn’t tried to evade the plasma.

  They made a line across from her, raising their rifles and aiming in her direction.

  She smiled, reaching out with her mind to the naniates they had brought with them. The molecular machines reacted, evacuating their hosts and coming to rest on the tattoos that covered her.

  The Goreshin was the last out of the transports. Not White. Grun. He walked over to her, a smile on his human face.

  “We meet again,” he said.

  “We do,” she replied.

  “And again, you have something I want.”

  “I do.”

  “Care to fight me for it?”

  Hayley nodded. “Why do you think I’m still here?”

  “You’re a brave human. I respect that.”

  “I don’t care about your respect.”

  He responded by shifting to his second form. He looked back at the soldiers. “Hold your fire. If she wins, she goes free.”

  The conscripts looked relieved not to be forced to fight. Their qi shifted almost as one, their fear fading slightly.

  Hayley pulled her Uin and flicked it open. Grun crouched, arms out and ready to pounce.

  “Tibor told me you weren’t an ideal soldier,” she said. “That you and he were the black sheep of the group.”

  “He told you that?” Grun grunted. “He’s going to wind up dead. So are you. Whether I do it or White does it. If you can’t beat me, you can’t beat him.”

  “You’re so sure I can’t beat you.”

  “You didn’t before.”

  “How do you know I wasn’t hustling you?” She could see in his qi that the statement gave him just a little bit of doubt. “I’m going to beat you, Grun. When I do, I’ll give you a chance to switch sides before I kill you.”

  He laughed. “That sounds fair.”

  She motioned for him to attack. He lowered himself more, and then came charging in at her.

  She braced herself, fighting to stay calm in the face of the three hundred kilogram beast rushing toward her. She had no idea if her idea would work, but it was better to try it out on Grun than wait to test it on White.

  She hesitated as he neared her, a different thought streaking through her stimulated mind. If this killed the Goreshin, would it break the vow she had made as a healer?

  She spun the Uin, turning as Grun lashed out at her. His claws skidded off the metal, and she ducked beneath his follow up, passing through his legs. She could have cut him with the Uin, but she spun back toward him instead, sidestepping his foot as he donkey-kicked, then rotated on his other heel and snapped down with his powerful jaws.

  She moved away from his teeth, his hot breath washing over her face. His qi was red, but it was a more natural red, not the fury that White had shown. He smiled slightly as their faces passed within centimeters before he backed up to reset his assault.

  She could have counterattacked, but she didn’t. This was a bad time to be stuck with a moral dilemma, but the vows she had taken meant as much to her as Quark and Nibia. It was a responsibility she couldn’t just ignore because it would make things easier.

  She jumped back, putting some space between them. Grun’s attack had left him only a meter away from the front of the Quasar. If she wanted, she could fire the self-destruct and blow him to pieces.

  That fact helped her make her decision. She wasn’t planning on killing him, only stopping him. Besides, she would be taking the naniates from him, not using them against him. It was a small but important difference.

  Convinced, she crouched in her favorite takega ready position, flicking the Uin closed. Grun eyed her with respectful caution. They circled one another, the motion pulling the Goreshin away from the Quasar. That opportunity had come and gone. She was taking a huge risk.

  One with a potentially huge reward.

  Grun broke toward her, a quick motion that his qi telegraphed before he made it. She shifted her weight, dropping beneath his claws, leaping over his foot and spinning low, then bouncing forward and up. She almost literally jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his huge chest and shoving her hands against the sides of his head.

  Then she reached out to the naniates, her visor amplifying the signal.

  “Get out of him,” she said. “Get out, or be destroyed.”

  Grun started to scream.

  It wasn’t a normal sound, for a human or a Goreshin. It was a rumble and a whine at the same time, a piercing screech of intense and sudden agony. He tumbled backward, and she fell with him, landing on top of him with her hands still in place.

  He looked up at her, his eyes moist, tearing from the pain. His body convulsed, and she could see the energy of the naniates now, struggling to escape.

  “Do you surrender?” she asked, holding him in place. The focus wasn’t all that easy on her, either. Her head was pounding, and it was probably only the stims keeping her from passing out.

  He groaned something she couldn’t understand.

  “Do you surrender?” she repeated.

  “Yes,” he managed to say. “Make. It. Stop.”

  She let go of his head and stopped calling out to the naniates. He slumped back, eyes staring straight up and motionless. For a moment, she thought he was dead.

  Then he howled, exhaling a massive breath that brought blood up with it. He spat it onto his face, choking on it.

  She jumped off him, and he slowly turned himself over, pushing himself onto his hands and knees.

  “I can do the same thing to White,” she said while he tried to catch his breath.

  He turned his head, looking at her. The anger was gone from his qi, replaced by fear, as well as a brighter blue she had been missing since the Riders dropped on Kelvar.

  Hope.

  “I just need to get close enough,” she said.

  “It won’t be easy.”

  “It’ll be easier if you help me.”

  “You’re something else.”

  “That’s what the Colonel tells me. Is he-”

  “Alive?” Grun finished. He nodded. “Thetan wants him.”

  “Thetan?”

  “Prophet Thetan,” Grun said, spitting out more blood. “He claims to be Thraven’s bastard child.”

  Hayley shook her head. “That’s impossible.”

  “That’s what he claims, and he has enough Venerants believing it to be a problem for your galaxy. His Gift is powerful.”

  “He killed my Riders?”

  Grun nodded.

  “Is he on Kelvar?”

  “No, but he is still sending the orders. There is another. Evolent Jol. He isn’t as powerful as Devain, but he is more cruel.”

  “That’s a little hard to believe.”

  Grun sat back on his haunches. He was still in his second form. Was he still able to change back? “What is your move, human?”

  “You can call me Witchy,” Hayley said. “Short for Witch doctor. I’m usually a healer.”

  “Not today, I suppose.”

  She n
odded somberly. “No. Not today.” She pointed to the soldiers. They were waiting for Grun to give them orders. Their qi was bright with fear. “What about them?”

  Grun pulled himself to his feet. “They come from Kelvar. They don’t want to fight. Not really. Jol pays them in threats and pain to go along with a meager wage. You defeated me, Witchy. Do what you want with them.”

  She nodded, walking toward them. A couple of the conscripts raised their rifles in defense. A larger number dropped them.

  “I’m going back to Kelvar City,” she said. “I’m going to get the Nephilim off your planet. I’m looking for volunteers who want to help me.”

  The soldiers stared at her. None of them moved.

  “No takers?” she asked. “Not a single one of you?”

  They were too afraid. They had families. They didn’t want to die.

  “I don’t need you all to fight,” she said. “I don’t need any of you to fight if you don’t want to.”

  “What do you need?” one of them asked.

  She eyed the transports behind them. “A ride.”

  34

  Violent and Tibor returned to the Quasar a few minutes later, the lack of an explosion giving them the hint that something was happening they didn’t expect.

  Hayley was standing with Grun when they returned.

  “Grun,” Tibor said, exiting the racer and approaching them.

  “Tibor,” Grun replied. He stood, and the two clasped hands.

  “You’re a traitor,” Tibor said, smiling.

  “So are you,” the other Goreshin replied.

  “What happened here?”

  “We fought. I lost.”

  “What?” Tibor looked at Hayley. “How?”

  “My little secret,” she said. She opened a tightpack and showed him one of the half-dozen stimulant injections she had taken from Medical. “This helps.”

  “That will kill you if you take too much of it.”

  “I know. I’m a doctor, remember?”

  She opened another tightpack, picking out the second group of needles. “This should help too.”

  “What is it?” Tibor asked.

  “Poison. A radioactive isotope that makes the naniates sleepy. I noticed when Quark stabbed White with a knife rubbed with the stuff, it slowed down his healing factor.”