Augment

by C R MacFarlane

  The guards behind him gasped, causing the commandant to give them a side-long look. “I am aware,” she said.

  “I’ve seen the facilities,” said Halud, “The Speakers want them alive.”

  The commandant turned away. “We have what we want.” She gave a discreet nod to one of the officers. “Augment 005478F is your sister. She was the primary target, you are a nice bonus. The rest are unimportant, nothing more than bait in a trap, and will be destroyed along with your crew.”

  The bridge officer walked towards them, his footfalls measured and even. He passed Halud and shot the two guards. They fell unceremoniously to the floor, smouldering wounds in the centre of their foreheads.

  An involuntary gasp escaped. Halud’s heart thrashed, encouraging him to flee. But he forced his feet to stay steady, staring at the commandant for explanation.

  She licked the corner of her mouth. “Unfortunately for the lieutenants, information pertaining to the Augments is heavily classified.”

  No one on the bridge seemed alarmed or upset.

  His jaw clenched. He would have to be strong, for her. But that’s what the disease did, it made you stronger. “Kill me then.”

  The commandant smirked. “Sadly, no. Believe me, Poet, that was my recommendation, but unfortunately, it seems you are too great an asset to lose.”

  “What will happen to me then?”

  “You’ll be returned to your rightful, Gods-given position. Speaker Lansford has been worried about you.”

  In the view screen, the little freightship spiralled out of control, bouncing off debris, spinning erratically. They plummeted, straight for one of the moons, lighting up an explosion of flame and dust.

  “Gods,” he gasped.

  “Life signs?” barked the commandant.

  “I’m not reading any,” reported the Lieutenant controlling the scanners. “But a heavy magnetic field is distorting our sensors.”

  “No one could have survived that, Ma’am,” said the pilot. “They impacted going over 345,000kph.”

  The commandant growled, deep and ferocious.

  Halud said a prayer in his head, not daring to move his hands in the normal supplication. The ship, the crew, the Augments were gone. He was Sarrin’s only hope now, really he had been all along. He managed to crack that up, but he could be stronger, smarter. It would be more difficult, for sure, but he would save his sister.

  “Very well,” said the commandant. “Plot the jumps for Etar 1.”

  “Wait,” said Halud. “I want to see my sister.”

  Her lip curled, and she turned to him with cold, hard eyes. “You will never see your sister again.”

  * * *

  Kieran let out a gleeful whoop. He bounced wildly, suspended in a body harness, staring out the open cargo bay doors as giant dust clouds slowly settled.

  Grant turned. “We did it!”

  “Holy cow. I can’t believe that worked.”

  When the ship impacted on the moon, they opened the doors and blew out six barrels of deuterium, twelve torpedoes, and twenty-eight pounds of explosive.

  “Of course it worked,” Grant smirked. “You asked for a massive explosion.”

  “That was crazy,” breathed Kieran, only now becoming aware of his heart beating painfully fast. He sucked air from his O2 tank, greedily taking breaths. “I’m glad you were here to trigger the bombs.”

  Grant nodded, lifting his laz-rifle in acknowledgement. He hung, similarly suspended, but he had only a breathing mask over his mottled brown suit. “I saw you hit a couple, too.”

  “I think I might have shot up the inside of the ship more than anything,” laughed Kieran, gesturing to the rifle strapped across his own chest.

  Grant’s singular exposed eye twinkled. “You are a pretty bad shot.” They laughed, far longer and louder than normal. Grant sobered first. “You sure did a lot of other good things today, yeah.”

  Kieran unclipped himself from the harness, slowly floating down to the floor with the moon’s low gravity. He caught himself, nearly tumbling over as his feet touched down on the very tilted floor. Artificial gravity generators were offline and the ship stuck sideways in the dirt. “You too, Grant. I’m sorry about before.”

  Grant landed beside him, grinned, and jumped into a triple flip. “Do you think we’re in the clear?”

  “Too early to tell.” Kieran shrugged. Immediately, his mind started to worry. They were in a very bad position if the warship decided to investigate closely.

  First problem: the lower cargo bay door ripped off when they opened it. If he couldn’t seal the doors, he couldn’t re-pressurize the bay. If they couldn’t pressurize the bay, they couldn’t open the doors to get back into the ship.

  Second problem: they were ass-over-tea-kettle and half-buried on a moon. At least one thruster had ripped off completely. Who knew what else they lost pin-balling around the debris field. Somehow, they had to get space-borne again.

  Third problem: low G and space-walks made Kieran nauseous. Always. Without exception.

  “Hey, Kieran,” said Grant. “I’m sorry too. You should have come with us.”

  Kieran shrugged. “You don’t have to say that.”

  “Sarrin wanted you there. She told me I was a fool for not bringing you. You know, before she fell.”

  Bile floated up the back of Kieran’s throat. He couldn’t let himself think about Sarrin right now. They had to repair the ship before anything else.

  It only took two leaps to reach the edge of the cargo bay, where the tilted floor met open space over a jagged edge of torn metal and wires. The door was missing entirely, probably floating somewhere or incinerated in the explosion — absolutely no chance of fixing it and depressurizing the cargo bay. The nearest airlock was the shuttle bay, four decks up.

  Grant landed beside him. “So, we’re good?”

  “Huh?”

  “You and me. You’re sorry, I’m sorry. Everything is good?”

  “As soon as we get Sarrin back.”

  Grant nodded. “Then let’s go.” He looked up, aimed himself, and jumped, seemingly headed for the vast empty field of stars.

  Sweat beaded on Kieran’s back. He hated spacewalks. When he was a boy, one of the engineers performing an extra-vehicular repair fell off going near the speed of light. Every effort to get him back just pushed him farther away. Who knew how long it took him to die.

  At least there was a bit of gravity here, he told himself, at least he would land somewhere. Cautiously, he maneuvered to the edge of the doorway, careful of his suit on the sharp edges. That was a whole other set of problems with space. He pressed hard into the hall panelling, shaking.

  “You okay, Kieran?” Grant called from above, his voice laced with actual concern.

  Kieran forced himself to nod. “Yeah, ‘m okay.”

  Grant jumped down smoothly to a ledge just above Kieran, offering his hand.

  Kieran tried to crawl, desperately clinging to the slick paneling with even slicker boots.

  “You have to jump,” Grant said awkwardly. “The hull is tilted and you’re just going to slide down.”

  Kieran’s feet slipped. He glanced down, seeing the end of the ship and a long drop to the lunar surface below. Even with the low gravity, that fall would still cripple a person for a long time.

  And he needed to go get Sarrin.

  “Come on, I’ll catch you.”

  He gritted his teeth, terrified but more terrified of falling, and jumped as hard as he could, feet slipping as he took off. The uneven pressure sent him into a slow spin, already shooting way too far. A vision of the engineer floating off into the abyss flashed in his mind.

  Grant’s hand snapped around his leg. Both floated up into the air a little, until Grant tugged him and they came back down.

  “I don’t like spacewalks,” admitted Kieran.

  Grant nodded, then cast his gaze up to the shuttle hangar. “One of the shuttles is missing.”

  “What?”

&nb
sp; “Yeah, one of the bays is open and the shuttle is gone. Come on, it’s not far. Go slow but keep moving.”

  Kieran nodded, despite the acrid taste burning in his mouth. He had to do it. He started to crawl up the tilted side of the ship, Grant behind him. Once, his foot pushed too hard and he started to lift up, but Grant pressed him back down.

  They reached the open shuttle bay, Kieran clinging to the ledge, gasping for breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

  “How long has it been?” Kieran asked.

  “Twenty minutes-standard.”

  “The warship hasn’t attacked yet.” Maybe, just maybe, they did believe they had imploded on the rock.

  They climbed into the open shuttle bay, letting gravity slowly pull them down the tilted tunnel to the airlock. Grant accessed the controls and shut the external door. The bay re-pressurized.

  The internal door slid open, and gravity pulled them to the sideways wall. Grant’s suit slipped back to it’s hiding spot in his upper back, and they both pulled off their masks.

  “Does that hurt?” Kieran asked, gesturing to his bleeding back.

  Grant shrugged.

  Gal moaned from where he lay crumpled in the corner. He reached around, looking for something. “We’re cracked,” he said matter-of-factly.

  Grant frowned, bouncing over to toe the captain in the side. “What happened to the other shuttle?”

  “Huh? What?”

  “There’s a shuttle missing.”

  “Oh, yeah. Poet took it. Have you seen my —.”

  “Halud took it?” Kieran said. “When? Where did he go?”

  Gal shrugged. “Don’t know.” Suddenly his eyes focussed, and he sat up and smiled.

  Kieran followed his gaze to the flask, caught on the bench by his feet. He grabbed it, clenching his fist. “Is this what you’re looking for?” The cruelness in his voice surprising him.

  Gal nodded, like a puppet.

  “Where did he go?” Kieran asked sweetly.

  Gal squirmed and started to sweat. “I don’t know.”

  “You can remember, if you want this back.”

  He scratched his arms violently, grumbling to himself. “Coward went to save his sister.”

  Grant and Kieran looked at each other. “Where did he go?” Kieran asked slowly. “To the planet, or…?”

  “The ship.”

  “The warship?” Grant ran a hand over his head. “He’s more cracked than I thought.”

  Kieran threw the flask at Gal, a bone to the old dog. They made their way to the bridge, his stomach starting to settle the slightest bit as they crawled through the sideways corridors.

  The bridge smelled a bit like vomit, but everyone looked okay. They held onto consoles or braced themselves between the floor and wall, sitting quietly, waiting.

  “Halud took a shuttle,” Grant said without pre-amble, “he went to the warship.”

  Hoepe’s eyes opened wide, where he sat perched on the arm of the captain’s chair.

  Grant reached to turn on a console, bracing himself against another station to access it. “Worth a scan, right?” But the console didn’t turn on.

  “All non-essential systems are offline,” Hoepe said, “to avoid detection.”

  “Maybe we can still help him,” said Kieran, eyeing the navigation console and its scanner.

  Hoepe shook his head. “He was probably blown apart in the firefight. He had no experience piloting a shuttle.”

  Grant sighed. “He’s Sarrin’s brother. We have to look.”

  “Even if he made it through, he would have been shot on sight for being a traitor,” said Hoepe.

  “She’ll be devastated,” said Grant.

  “She might not be alive.”

  Kieran’s legs finally gave out, and he clutched a console behind him.

  “She is,” said Grant. “I have to believe that. They set a trap, they want her alive.”

  Hoepe shook his head. “If we’re caught here, we’ll all be dead and then no one will be able to help Sarrin. No scans. No gravity. No nothing.”

  All the energy left Kieran with a whoosh, his hand barely rubbing over his shock-tired face as he clung to the console just to keep himself upright.

  “We can’t just leave him,” said Grant. “Sure, he’s caused some problems, but he’s Sarrin’s brother.”

  Hoepe pressed his lips together. “How do you propose we go and help him?”

  “There’s a way.” But Grant shook his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. “We’ll get him. We’ll get Sarrin.”

  “This is war. There are casualties,” Hoepe said, his voice flat. “He knew that as well as anyone. We have to look after ourselves.”

  Grant’s head bowed in acquiescence. “You’re right.”

  “Wait. No, he’s not.” Kieran pulled himself to his feet. He shouldn’t interfere, but his nerves were already past the point of frayed. “‘Look after ourselves’? An hour ago, you wanted to save everybody. We infiltrated an UEC facility to rescue Augments. Sarrin’s going to be crushed if he’s not here. Why can’t we infiltrate a warship to rescue Halud? We’ve been on that warship before.”

  “We can’t —.”

  Kieran’s fists clenched irrationally. “Is this because he’s just a — what do you call us — a common?”

  “That’s not it at all,” said Grant.

  A sudden coldness drained his core, but Kieran set his jaw. “Are you telling me that if Rayne or I were trapped in the facility, you would come for us? Because I’m starting to think you wouldn’t. I’ve given you the benefit of the doubt, I’ve helped you. I know you’ve said some not nice things about me, about ‘commons’, but this is too far. Just because Halud’s not like you doesn’t mean we can let him rot.”

  “Kieran.” Hoepe held up a hand.

  “No! How is that fair? You can’t choose like that. We’re all in this mess together.”

  Grant and Hoepe shared a look. “We’re not choosing.” Grant stepped forward. “I know I said some not-nice things. I was angry. I was wrong. I’m sorry. But you’re got the wrong idea.”

  “Halud’s not a common,” said Hoepe. “He’s an Augment.”

  Kieran’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

  “Halud is an Augment, and somehow he hid that for twenty years while he worked directly with the Speakers. He saved us in the war, and he rescued Sarrin. Halud was incredibly capable, and — if by some grace of the Gods he is not dead already — he may very well survive.”

  Kieran took a step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “What? How do you know?”

  Grant shrugged. “His eyes.”

  “The virus, the genes it encodes, changes the eye colour.”

  The crystal blue irises — of course Kieran had noticed the striking, inhuman colour, but he hadn’t put together what it meant. Around the room, identical sets of eyes stared at him. Only Rayne’s were a dark, dull brown. “But that’s worse isn’t it — if he’s an Augment? We have to save him from the warship.”

  “We would if we could, but I don’t see how,” said Grant.

  “The same way we snuck onto the warship before.”

  Raising a single eyebrow, Hoepe said, “With our ship that can’t fly, and our cloaking device that emits dangerous levels of inverse gamma radiation? We only got on that warship before because they wanted us there.”

  Kieran gasped. “You don’t know that.”

  The doctor shut his eyes. “But I do, I’m sure of it. I should have known it then too. Sarrin didn’t escape from Selousa. They let her go. And I wanted her to be free so badly, I refused to see it.”

  Grant whispered, “They were controlling us, controlling her.”

  “They’ve controlled every aspect of our lives,” said another Augment.

  Hoepe sighed. “We’ve fallen right into their trap. Each and every one of us.”

  A heaviness settled over the bridge, Kieran felt it crushing his chest. “Hardly,” he said into the silence. He looked around the ro
om, meeting each set of bright, blue, genetically-enhanced eyes. “They’ve controlled your lives, but right now, they think you’re all dead. You’re unpredictable. Which, I think, is probably a huge advantage. We’re going to find Sarrin. We’re going to find Halud. And we’re all going to do it together.”

  * * *

  Gravity pressed down on Sarrin’s chest, holding her to the cold, hard table. She struggled, knowing it was futile but wanting to thrash all the same. The short gravitational field emitted close to thirty-eight times standard. Even if she could stand, her bones would shatter under the weight. The darkness crowded in, convincing her it could set her free.

  Don’t lose yourself. Kieran’s voice pulled her back from the edge. She panted wildly, pushing the monster away. Her eyes cast around for a solution, for any hope that could stop the rising panic.

  “You know better than that, Sarrin,” Guitteriez’s disembodied voice scratched across the room from behind her. “You know there is no escape from a gravity well.” Footsteps echoing in the sterile room — soft, soft, thunk, his walking stick hitting the hard floor as he came forward stopping directly in front. “Do you like our new machines, Sarrin?” he said, dangerously close to touching. Bloody serum seeped from his jagged scar. “We designed them just for you.”

  She followed his gaze to one of the blue orb towers. The guard beside it pressed a switch, and instantly fire lit inside her hands, pouring into the rest of her body. Her muscles collapsed underneath her, and for a minute, she was sure the gravity well would suck her in and crush her.

  “Interesting, yes? I thought perhaps this might capture more of your attention, since our previous experiments failed to elicit much reaction.”

  Never had she felt anything like it, nothing like the pain the machines emitted. And yet, the doctor and the soldiers in the room barely blinked.

  “I know what you did to the nurse.”

  Her eyes flared open.

  He grinned at her wickedly. “Do you even know what you did to the nurse?”

  The memory assaulted her: Sarrin lay in her tiny, dark and damp cell, completely empty following a round of experiments. She hadn’t even had the energy to lift her head when the researchers entered the room and carried her back for more.