Requiem

by E L Strife

  Azure eyed her from the far side of the slot before inspecting Bennett’s grip. “If it blinks red, it means they are unconscious and you need to tap the recirculation symbol. Adjust the oxygen level until this bar is green and administer a jolt.”

  A faint wisp of lightning crackled through the harness over the man’s chest. “If they wake, it will register and open the slot. I must warn you—”

  The glass hinged upward from the head. Azure caught the man when he lurched out, aiming for the door.

  Atana slid back a step, hands flaring by her hips. Bennett hadn’t let go.

  Azure’s eyes locked on her. “You are safe here. You are safe.”

  Wide-eyed, the man straightened. His lungs heaved as he examined Azure then the other shepherds around him.

  After Azure’s words sank in, Atana’s posture relaxed, and Bennett released her.

  “You are on Earth. The invaders have been dealt with,” Azure added, ushering the man into a shepherd’s arms. “They still think the invasion is underway, so when they wake, you must reassure them or many can snap.”

  “Understood,” the group responded in unison.

  Azure directed to the sky with a finger. “Make sure you close the hatches when you’re done. Otherwise, you lose cabin pressure during flight in the void.”

  A collector squeezed inside next to them, going too fast. It knocked over a man lift. Panels rose from the floor, stopping its advancement. Cooling jets burst from the sides to help slow the engines, sending white clouds swirling up into the air. Several shepherds hustled over to the ship’s position with extinguishers and medical equipment.

  “I got them, sir.” A shepherd Azure had trained squeezed between Bennett and Atana, circling around to the backside of the second collector.

  “Is this a good idea?” a female shepherd asked Bennett. “Do the alien pilots even know how to fly those?”

  They watched a third hover inside the next bay down, its landing smooth, the clashing pulses of decelerating propulsion systems rattling the main hangar.

  Azure lifted a hand, indicating the third. “Some of us have flown Linoan vessels.” Another collector slid into the terminal, sending metal screeching against the concrete. “Most are only maintenance ship pilots and not used to gravity. The more runs they do, the better they’ll get.”

  “Understood.” She spun and marched off to the third.

  An Earthling stumbled down the ramp behind them, rubbing his eyes. “This is bullshit!”

  The shepherd, having released him, shrugged.

  “Post-nap confusion makes them rough around the edges.” Azure waved a nonchalant hand. “Few are violent.” He stepped out of the civilian’s way, his body pressing lightly into Atana’s shoulder. When he looked down at her, she noticed him hiding a smile. Like you.

  Saw that, did you? she asked.

  You can’t hide anything from me. His eyes twinkled with a hint of giddy mischief. I know a lot about you, things I don’t get the impression you have remembered yet.

  A corner of her lips lifted. If we ever find time alone, I’d appreciate your help.

  I plan on it.

  Disapproval tainted Bennett’s dolor reminder. “She needs sleep first.”

  “Azure.” Tanner, to her relief, broke up the building tension between the men when he jogged up to them from the deployment In-Processing office. “Think you could show me the collector controls? Help me back out, a quick spin, and I’ll drop you off before I head up? I’ve studied the entire M45 system already. They’re pretty similar.”

  “In three short-cycles?” Azure canvassed her for confirmation of the young man’s skills.

  Atana tossed her nose in Tanner’s direction. “He can keep pace with my programming.”

  Delight lifted Azure’s features. “I’ve waited a long time to work with someone as fast as me.” He hiked back up the ramp as the last of the people were helped out of the lower level.

  Tanner stepped aside for the disoriented Earthlings, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Atana mused at his shortened glances at her. He was a high-strung shepherd, effective, and a perfectionist like her but held an atypical shyness.

  “B, requesting permission to fly a collector up when it’s empty. Just want to help this go faster, sir,” Tanner said.

  “All right. When you get tired, you get your ass back here. I do not want a repeat of earlier.” Bennett surveyed Cutter, who was firmly closing the Velcro on a recently emptied cargo pocket. “Are you sufficient to guard?”

  “Fine, sir,” Cutter replied with a sharp nod. “Spare sour-snaps in my med kit if it comes to it.”

  Bennett sighed. “Okay. Report in when you’re back and if you want to leave again.”

  “Thanks, B.” Tanner sprinted up the ramp ahead of Cutter, appearing eager to take the controls.

  “We’re going in to work out a plan with Command,” Atana shouted up after them, backing away to stand outside the red perimeter painted on the floor.

  The sergeants tossed their thumbs in the air.

  Azure swiveled in the pilot’s seat. “I will be back soon. I want to be a part of the meeting. It involves my people now too.” His gaze darkened and drifted to Bennett as the ramp closed between them.

  “What was that about?” Bennett asked.

  She lifted a shoulder. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  Chapter 14

  THE AIR PULSED heavy with the broad vibrations of the collector Tanner backed out. Bennett hoped he’d made the right decision. Cutter looked like hell; Tanner, worn out. Next to him, Atana hugged herself. Wrapped in only field cloth with the ocean breeze gushing inside the main terminal, she had to be chilled to the bone.

  “Ready to head in?” he asked.

  Atana turned with him, and they walked in silence, side by side, through the chaotic crowd to Home Station doors. Videos of the ship in the sky and the swarming collectors played on every screen lining the bays. Overhead, the speakers sent out a message to the civilians, helping them find their designated waiting area for a ride home.

  At the entrance, two security shepherds held out scanning devices, and Atana and Bennett extended their left wrists. Like every Earthling, they’d had a tracking chip embedded in their radius bone as children. A chirp said their codes were admissible, and the doors opened.

  The noise from the hangars softened to a whisper as the metal clanged shut behind them. Stepping into an opening elevator, they listened to a different message over the speakers. “Shepherds are to return to their bases of operation immediately for reassignment. Delta threat has been neutralized. Threat level reduction to status: Charlie. Mandatory serum inspection upon arrival.”

  Serum. Bennett glanced at Atana. The lights of the shaft passed over her like street lamps on a night highway as they dropped to Level Two. In a breath of silence, she caught him staring. A bashful laugh slipped out. He needed some, bad.

  To his relief, Atana cracked a fraction of a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay too, Jameson.” His insides thrummed every time he heard his first name on her lips. “I’m not sure I ever said that. I wanted you to know that before—”

  The doors opened, cutting her off.

  “Serum and Code. I know.” Bennett casually bumped shoulders with her as they stepped out into the bustling staging area. “I told the crews to search for a man named Lavrion when I got off the Med-Evac.”

  She looked up in surprise. “After all this, you remembered I’d mentioned seeing my—” Brother?

  The screens buzzed around them, blank-faced shepherds passing without so much as an acknowledging glance. To their right, Medical staff rushed between rooms, blue beacons flashing above the doors. In the auditorium to their left, teams gathered, suited up, and hustled to the row of elevators, several squeezing into the one Atana and Bennett had vacated.

  They stopped in the middle of the main hallway. Before them stood Command’s offices and, up the stairs, their conference room.

  Bennett felt
like a rock in a river, life flowing around him, unaware of the cold hard nature of his presence. He wasn’t like any of them, never had been. With her at his side, new emotions and memories swirling within, he didn’t want to be a machine again. His mouth slacked, and he swept a bare foot across the floor.

  It’s years too late to save mine.

  Warmth slid into a dangling hand. He looked to see her fingers interlace his. That single gesture wiped all negativity from his mind.

  We are different, together. Atana carefully freed herself from him, her burning eyes still holding on.

  “Sergeant Atana!”

  She whirled around at the voice.

  A nurse hustled over with a white doctor’s coat in hand. “Status?”

  “Stable.” Atana took the coat extended to her. “Thank you.”

  The nurse gave her a shallow bow. “Shall I call in another order of leathers for you?”

  Bennett felt smaller standing there watching the women. Atana typically wore an all-leather outfit, custom fit for her curves, and Command appeared to facilitate it. If she’d been anyone else, he might’ve been irritated she got special treatment without serum to knock it under the surface.

  When he’d become Team Leader, he was permitted to buy his own leather jacket in whatever neutral color he preferred. He was still required to wear the same tactical gear underneath. Luckily, his old jacket was tucked away in his duffel, a good-luck charm.

  “No. I have a set in my room.” Atana folded the coat over her bare arms.

  “Very well.” The nurse quirked a brow. “Sergeant Bennett, anything you need looked at? And be honest with me.”

  He shook his head. “No, thank you, Sergeant Orley.”

  With a terse nod, she spun and hustled off to help escort a shepherd on a stretcher into an exam room.

  Bennett took the coat from Atana’s hands and opened it, gesturing for her to slide her arms in.

  She blushed. “Thanks, Jameson.”

  He pulled the fabric up and over her shoulders. “You sure you don’t want to get some real clothes?”

  Tucking the flaps around her body, she covered her bare thighs. “They need to see us like this. Brings reality to the lifestyle up there.”

  With a protective hand behind her in case her shaking knees gave out, he escorted her into the Central Auditorium and up the open stairs toward Command’s conference room.

  Atana released a puff of air, blinking slowly as they reached the door.

  “Wait a second,” Bennett quietly burst, trailing his fingers down her spine. “You’re exhausted, Nakio. Can’t this hold off for fifteen minutes? I don’t want you passing out.”

  “Bennett.” She tilted her head, surveying his eyes. “You’re on the edge too. I can feel it.”

  He pulled his hand back to take her arm. If he was honest with himself, he’d agree. But duty took precedence. “You’re becoming an Empath, aren’t you?”

  Her gaze fell. “It’s random, no pattern yet.”

  The door opened before them, and Command’s Coordinator leaned out. A tall, spear-of-a-man, he slumped against the frame today, glancing down the empty hall behind Bennett. “The team and Azure?”

  “All working,” Bennett said. “Azure will be in soon.”

  The Coordinator scanned their rag clothes. “We’ve been awaiting your arrival so we might contact Agutra with familiar faces.” He waved them in and took his seat at the far end of the long, black glass table. Bennett encouraged Atana into the room first. The Coordinator tapped the surface. “Nalli, connect us.”

  “Yes, sir,” a female voice replied.

  The screen behind the Coordinator flickered to life, displaying a blur of moving colors.

  Bennett pulled out a chair for Atana, helping her sit in the mesh before sinking into the seat beside her. Together, they stared out at the twenty-one nameless faces of Command. Even after the mutiny, the purges, and losing bases to Suanoan plasma pulses, each member wore the same perfectly-pressed, ashen robes and impassive expression.

  “I am learning how this thing works,” a voice said. Paramor appeared on the screen. “Oh, Atana, Bennett, you are safe on Earth?”

  Atana drew in deep and sat forward. “Yes. This is Command of the Universal Protectors, those who guide us in our journey to preserve peace.” She lifted a weak hand at the screen. “Command, this is Healer Paramor, Saema Chamarel’s associate and the one who leads the Healers and Saemas on Agutra.”

  Some of Paramor’s enthusiasm faded, his head hanging. “On behalf of all the sparks on Semilath Agutra, we are honored by your sacrifices. You have given us freedom after millennia under Suanoan rule. You have our utmost respect.”

  Several Command members looked away, two of them scanning Atana from beside the Coordinator.

  Bennett couldn’t believe it: Command rendered speechless. “How are the workers?”

  “Still healing. It will take time.” Paramor glanced over his shoulder at a sound. He shook his head and filled the screen with his silvery presence once again. “I have assigned most doku to the collectors. The others are monitoring Agutra’s path. Perimeter guards are maintaining security of the junctions and intact containers. How is Earth? Are your people waking in stable condition?”

  “Yes, after the initial shock passes.” The mesh of Bennett’s seat was particularly comforting, and he worried he might fall asleep.

  The Coordinator spun to face the screen. “Sir, we are willing to offer whatever services we can—food, water, medicine.”

  Paramor shook his head. “We have survived here for a long time. After we regroup, we may find a need for certain things. You have given us freedom which is more than enough for now. Many are already talking about settling on a planet.”

  A Command member, closer to Atana, spoke up. “We will need to discuss a process for merging the two colonies if we are to keep the peace. It may take a while.”

  Paramor lifted a mediating hand. “We do not want your land. We are not Suanoa. We wish to find another planet.”

  “Paramor.” Atana cleared her throat but still faltered, her words choppy and spread. “How many survived the mutiny?”

  His jaw slacked then tensed. “Before our arrival, we had 67,549 voices.” He paused, closing his eyes. “Twenty-one fields purged. Almost eleven thousand were lost from the purges of agricultural containers.”

  Bennett slumped back in his seat, cursing under his breath.

  “The crews were doubled up because the other sectors were in Siphon Status on your planet.” Paramor shifted beneath his robes. “A few hundred succumbed to stress, malnutrition, the usual illnesses, and many to the rebellion. As we find them, we return them to the stars, where they belong.”

  He stilled long enough that Bennett wondered if the connection had failed and the screen was frozen. Until the man blinked and looked away. “Just under thirty-nine thousand left.”

  “That’s over twenty-eight thousand,” a member of Command broke in.

  To Bennett’s right, Atana’s shoulders jolted. Her warmth beside him dwindled to a cold, life-sucking pit. She pressed out the quiver in her lips so hard they paled.

  Beneath the black glass table, he offered her a hand. The urgency and tenseness of her fingers curling around his swelled a powerful confidence through him.

  Paramor set the communicator aside, drawing his scanner out of his coat pocket to assess a young, unconscious woman being placed in his lap. “How is Earth?”

  “Holding on,” the Coordinator replied. “We are truly sorry we could not save more.”

  “We would have all perished without your help.” Paramor touched the woman’s closed eyelids, uttering a few incomprehensible words. When he retracted, two men picked her up. He sighed dejectedly through his nose. “I must go. I have many who need care, many life-passings to perform.”

  The Coordinator nodded. “We await your requests and will send a transport with supplies as soon as we can.”

  “Thank you.” Paramor stud
ied Atana and Bennett then glanced over their shoulders. “Azure.”

  The screen darkened.

  Bennett retracted his hand from Atana’s as they all turned to look.

  “How many?” Azure asked as the door whooshed shut. He stood rigid, appearing ready to fight and run at once.

  The room remained quiet.

  “How many did we lose?” he reiterated, deepening his voice.

  Arms shaking, Atana pushed herself up, ushering him out into the hallway. “We need to do this alone.”

  Chapter 15

  BENNETT STOOD from his seat, watching the door shut and Atana’s lips give Azure the numbers. Thankfully, Command remained silent behind him.

  Azure covered his face. His back thudded against the wall, sending a shockwave through his body. He was bruised and dirty, beaten and swirling in the tormenting aftermath of war, a mutiny he helped coordinate. The guilt and responsibility had to be an astounding weight on his shoulders.

  At least, that was how Bennett felt.

  The serum had its benefit, Bennett realized. Shepherds might not be capable of desire, but they also didn’t bear this burden.

  Curling forward, Azure’s knees gave out, and he slid to sit on the floor. A panged howl erupted from him, followed by muffled sobs.

  Remorse tugged at Bennett for his previous distrust of Azure’s unfounded knowledge of Linoan collectors. Sure, the warrior had flown them, but it couldn’t have been because he wanted to. His loyalty was clear. Azure was just a unique individual with a skill set beyond most R-4 Technical Sergeants. Maybe even Atana.

  Bennett raked a hand through his hair, the burlap over his shoulders rustling.

  “I don’t know what your plan is with all of us. Things have to change. It’s a mess up there. We’re a mess—slaves, Earthlings, shepherds.” He shook his head in stern defiance. “Agutra’s survivors are too humble to admit it. They’ve been living under the Suanoa too long. They are afraid of admitting weakness, of wanting anything, and telling you what they need.”