Requiem

by E L Strife

  Dr. Tieshna had sent them to rest, scolding him for guarding Tanner while losing so much blood and Tanner for flying on a mere four hours of sleep in the last three days.

  Serum had its perks.

  Cutter rolled up his pant leg and peeked beneath the bandage. He’d soaked through again. He replaced it, moving on to the patch over his neck.

  Inside their room, it was silent—no breeze, no movement, not even snores from Tanner above him. The cold metal walls of Home Station shared the numb lifelessness he carried inside his ribs.

  Nothing compares to the emptiness within when you’ve felt the light of a soul go out in your arms. He shook his head. I’m so sorry, Lyle.

  He’d seen the last flicker more often than he dared admit.

  Chapter 24

  A HARSH BEEP from Azure’s wristband stole his attention from the final transport as it left with survivors heading for Arctic Zone five. It was from Bennett.

  Great job today. Get some rest. Regular shifts begin tomorrow. 0700 hrs.

  The last ten hours had dragged on as the teams ushered people to designated zones. Azure received many questions from shepherds and strange looks from those unloading. The only exception was the occasional set of bright blue eyes which seemed to see some instinctive level of familiarity in him.

  Atana, Bennett, and several others had stopped to sleep for a few moments in a corner on the concrete. He couldn’t blame them. Humans needed breaks, but they persevered longer with less food than Xahu’ré if they broke it up like this.

  He’d crash hard later and need a lot of food.

  Dropping onto Level Three, Azure aimed for the group room and debated checking in on Atana’s first to see if she was awake. A hand snagged his arm, pulling him into the shadows.

  The glowing eyes of the Xahu’ré pilot from Command smiled and nodded him back behind the stairs. “I am sorry I could not answer you when you called. I couldn’t let anyone else know I had heard you.”

  Azure’s heart jumped. Hyras hadn’t disregarded his plea upon his exit. “Please tell me you know. You must have picked up the scent on the two of us.”

  Hyras swayed his head. “I have known since we first recovered Sahara thirteen years ago.” He paused. “Sergeant Atana. By our rules, I cannot affect your situation based on such non-regulation issues. Families, friendships, and interpersonal bonds are not permitted. You must obey the orders of the collective command while housed in our system. It is how we keep consistent and stable shepherds. She has been one of us for a long time. She knows this.”

  Azure looked away. I do not understand why you make this rule. Love is everything that holds us together.

  Hyras spun a circle, his tall shoulders tipping to one side as he leaned against the wall, looking over at Azure. Yes, and it has also torn us apart, which is why Command ruled relationships out decades back. Those who couldn’t place duty above self were discharged.

  Azure’s fingers curled up in tight knots of frustration. I cannot dishonor Sahara’s family and mine by not following Xahu’ré customs.

  I know, as do the other warrior members. We are at your mercy for help. Hyras lifted his brows. If there is something you need to do to focus, to work, to fix these collectors so we may fight the Kyra ships, then by all means, you do what you have to.

  I’m confused. Azure locked up, feeling turned around.

  You are not as foreign to us as they all imply. Command has forgotten the strength of love. I know. If you can keep it quiet and act with prime focus on the mission, you do what you need to if it means your hands will be steady. He directed his gaze with a nod at Azure’s shaking fists.

  Azure lifted his hands. With a deep breath, he forced them open before hanging them back at his sides.

  Miskaht and I have been discussing things with Krett, and we think we can make the others understand. Command needs to reach the conclusion themselves. Our control may seem a bit much, but it has held this planet together during some terrible times.

  Azure crossed his arms to steady himself for the answer to his question. How do I know what I can do?

  Keep it behind closed doors. Nothing in public, understood?

  That’s my only rule?

  Atana has responsibilities with us. Hyras’s eyes illuminated. If you get her pregnant—

  Azure held up a hand and shook his head. It will never be a problem, sir. We were attacked by a Suanoa in testing on Zephyr. She was injured.

  Hyras retracted, his eyes dimming, the ashen robes he wore swishing against the metal floor. Tivar’s daughter can’t— His mouth unsealed, and he paced a step away.

  Is something wrong? Azure shifted on his feet, trying to catch the man’s expression.

  Whipping around, Hyras stepped in close to him. You must promise me, this universe, you will protect Kios with your dying breath.

  I already have, sir. Dread tightened in Azure’s throat. Command had, initially, been against their residency. Now he was being begged to protect the boy, leaving him wondering what had changed and what they knew that he didn’t. Why do you mention him?

  Hyras landed a palm on Azure’s shoulder, looking him square in the eyes. We are in your debt, Martiis. You have done your family a great honor. They would be proud of you.

  Eih ahna, Martiis. Azure dipped his head. Hyras wasn’t going to explain himself, making Azure even more curious why. He was starting to see why Atana had so easily lost her temper. Secrets were held by those desiring power. Though, he figured, Hyras wasn’t being permitted to tell him.

  Check-in for tools and equipment is in bay 109. I will clear anyone you wish to work with for your team. I’ve already informed Sergeant Tiisan you have full access and unlimited resources.

  Tiisan, as in strength, in Xahu’ré? Azure asked.

  He is a big guy and like us though not aware yet. Hyras chuckled and released Azure’s shoulder. You two will get along well. If you or the others need anything, message me or Miskaht.

  Is there any more news from Agutra?

  Everything is fine. The crews have been resting, healing. Some are working. All are in better spirits, I hear.

  As a pair of shepherds climbed the stairs, Hyras and Azure slid back in the shadows, closing their radiant eyes on instinct. When the steps faded, they looked up to make sure the others were gone.

  I would like Imara to join us here. She is like Atana in a lot of her skills, but she was born in the fields. Azure grimaced. She did not know slavery was wrong until her family was killed in front of her.

  Hyras braced his hands on his hips. I will discuss it with Command.

  Thank you, sir. Azure studied the sudden discomfort twitching the man’s shoulders. Please let me know if you need anything. Or if I break any rules.

  You’ll do fine, Azure. Welcome to the Universal Protectors. With a congratulatory pat to Azure’s arm, Hyras slipped out into the hallway. Smoothing out his robes, his face masked over with apathy, and he walked off.

  Azure rubbed the heating thermo-stripe across the back of his neck. He had the freedom to be with Atana in private despite their rules because of how important their knowledge was to the success of the next mission.

  How much did she remember? Would she spare any time for him? Could he control himself around her, or would he fall apart and not be able to focus on work if he gave in? And why was Kios on Hyras’s watch list?

  Releasing a heavy sigh, Azure pushed the questions out of his mind. Tomorrow they would honor the dead. Atana would spend all day in another sector of Earth with Bennett. And he wasn’t invited.

  Needing to talk with her, Azure made his way to her room in the shadows of a sleeping Home Station.

  Standing outside her door, he looked behind him at Bennett’s across the hall. It was closed.

  Sahara?

  Getting no response from either location, he placed his hand on the metal of hers. It clicked open. Azure pushed through, closing it softly. Even in the pale verdigris glow of the emergency light by the bathroo
m sink, he could see Kios was asleep on a cot set up in the corner and Atana, in her leathers, on the edge of her bed.

  Azure licked his lips and stared at the floor. That was supposed to be his place.

  Unmatched Xahu’ré females slept on the outside, near the danger, a sign of their strength and courage. Either she didn’t remember or didn’t consider them together.

  Returning to the group room to sleep wasn’t his preferred choice. In his experience as a perimeter guard, indecision equaled death. He had to protect Kios at Hyras’s request. Azure was bound to Atana by his people’s customs. It was his charge to protect and care for her for eternity.

  He wasn’t going to ask permission. It was the way things had to be.

  Sahara, he called to her. Even when she was worn out and asleep, she could knock his block off if he didn’t let her know who he was on approach.

  Atana hummed. Azure, what can I do for you?

  “Rest.” Climbing over her, Azure tucked himself against the wall, drawing her against his body. As much as it pained him to take the demotion, it would be better than sleeping alone.

  “Azure?” Her eyes flew open, and she tried to sit up.

  He nuzzled into the waves of her dark hair. “Relax. Hyras cleared it.”

  “He did?”

  “Tsu, lisano miia.” It was basically the truth. Trailing a finger over her cheek and down her neck, her stripes faded through, and she let out a calming sigh. “Susse lianar,” he rumbled.

  She drew the backs of his fingers to her lips the way she used to when they slept together after escaping testing. A warm breath fell over his skin. “Im mora viiar.”

  Azure’s heart bolted out of the gates. He didn’t want to close his eyes and risk waking to find her gone again, not when she was curled up in his arms after so long apart.

  But her fingertips graced his bare arm, sinking him on contact into the depths of twilight.

  Chapter 25

  EVERY LENS FOCUSED ON HER.

  Bennett and Atana stood to either side of the Coordinator in the sweltering heat the next morning on the stage in Tropic Zone Six. Behind them was a crumbling temple once used for government negotiations. The white stone was chipped and browned from years without maintenance. It now stood vacant due to the gaping hole the Three Hundred Year War had punched in the exterior.

  Command never advertised a press conference or presented in the same zone twice in a year. Yet civilians were resourceful in spreading rumors and posting videos. Every speech rendered the streets packed with civilians. Command’s film crew was on site, a team of guards surrounding them.

  Today, the people listened in uncharacteristic silence. Even the usual occasional outbursts were minimal.

  Bennett scanned them, noting several Kronos Ks scattered in their midst. He wasn’t surprised.

  Atana fidgeted to the left of the Coordinator, a barely noticeable twitch in the fingers locked behind her back. When tasked to a speech, Bennett focused on those minute anomalies, especially when they stood before the people without a bulletproof shield.

  See something? he asked as the Coordinator rested his hands on the podium and greeted the masses.

  I am not the headline. Her voice danced with more emotion in his mind than its counterpart in physical form, and he enjoyed every second. It was almost like having a normal conversation. Why are they all focused on me?

  You’re the blue bomb. He said it as flat as he could. Now was not the time to laugh. But there was still a little tickle in his brain over the matter. It was the nickname the civilians had given her in the videos going viral on the web. Can’t blame Tanner anymore.

  Her blue eyes darted to him for a split second before returning to their patrol. Never did.

  The Coordinator continued on between them. “These collectors who took our people were selecting them to work for the Suanoa as slaves. Above us, the Agutra ship, run by Suanoa, holds hundreds of containers, each with their own land, crops, water, and artificial sunlight. This is the purpose of the pillars on earth. They meant to replenish their agricultural containers with our fresh land.”

  Joke’s on them, Bennett smarted. Most of our land is toxic.

  They only dropped sectors over viable land and clean sources of water. Atana threw him a glare. Don’t underestimate them.

  A twinge of humiliation flared in Bennett’s brain. Right, sorry.

  The Coordinator paused at the erupting shouts of the crowd. Lifting his hands, he hung his head. “Do not fear. Together, with the slaves of the fields, we have taken over the ship and cleansed the vessel of its rulers. But it was not without its price. It is imperative you know sacrifices were made for our freedom and safety, to continue our life on this beautiful planet. Today, we are honoring them.”

  The Coordinator pointed up at the sky.

  “The survivors need our help. Yes, we lost almost sixty thousand of our Earthlings to this invasion.”

  The crowd’s gossip softened to a whisper.

  “That’s not one percent of our population. The slaves above lost over forty-two percent of their people.”

  In an unprompted moment of silence, Bennett noticed even several of the Kronos shied away at the notion, the gentle breeze tugging at their clothing.

  “They cannot be forgotten.”

  A rumbling hum grew in the distance, evoking frantic murmurs from the spectators. Bennett pinpointed the F201s forming up on the horizon. Tanner was piloting one of the five, Cutter with him. He didn’t want a repeat of the collector crash. Without thought, he lifted a suppressing hand in front of him, palm facing the ground then tapped his chest, hoping the crowd would understand.

  They are ours.

  The chatter softened.

  “Their sacrifices and ours are bonded as one.” The Coordinator glanced at Bennett providing a single, approving nod. “One team, one struggle. UP fought side-by-side with them, and our brethren died together. It is in these sacrifices we have won, and our planet endures. For without unity, we have chaos. Chaos brings more death to our doors. Let us continue in the name of those we’ve lost and take the upcoming fight to them, show them we remain united and unstoppable.”

  Atana’s shoulders drew forward as a civilian camera crew took a step closer.

  Hold your position. Bennett signaled in a guard’s direction and led his eyes to the crew climbing the steps.

  This is a risk factor we did not account for. She kept her hands folded behind her rigid back as a pair of guards summoned the crew down the steps again.

  The Coordinator lifted his hands. “Some of you remember what it was like when we called the ceasefire decades ago. Famine and disease ran rampant, no shelters left standing, hot zones which, even today, we cannot go into because they are too toxic.” He gestured again at the shadow looming in the sky. “They feel this—today. They are coming out of a fog of subjugation and need our support. For now, let us honor those lost and remember them forever as we fight for equality and stand united against feudalism.”

  UP’s familiar F-201 UP fighters thundered overhead in a V, rattling the windows and shaking the earth. The crowd roared in approval, whistling and waving dust scarves in the air. Bennett was used to the powerful sound but still enjoyed seeing its effects on others, the energy it filled the people with.

  The Coordinator stepped back from the microphone. Bennett and Atana executed about-faces and tracked close to his sides, scanning the structures for glints of metal.

  A man shouted as the rumble faded, “How can we trust you when aliens work under your Command?”

  The three stopped and peered up at Miskaht. The ashen robes she wore dragged on the floor as she shifted back into the shadows, Lavrion looking on from her side. Her violet-and-green irises pierced the space between them with a subtle shake of her head.

  Bennett and Atana spun to guard the Coordinator’s back.

  “We demand to know what the blue woman is!” another said.

  Come. We’ll talk. The Coordinator urged
them onward. Bennett scanned the crowd once more as he and Atana shielded the Coordinator back among the protection of Doric columns bordering the building’s north frieze. They met Miskaht and Lavrion in the open hall where a team of security shepherds formed up around them at Sergeant Bennett’s signal.

  “Command has not finished this speech. You cannot proceed.” Miskaht glared at the Coordinator. They appeared to be having a private conversation.

  Bennett adjusted the black tactical vest over his matching uniform while the Earthlings tossed several more questions out. “We can’t leave like this.”

  “I agree. They need to know she is one of us, on our side,” the Coordinator said. “We’re too much of a mystery. It’s crucial they grasp reality, not some mystical thing which made the Suanoa go away.”

  Atana’s face reddened. “I did not intend for such focus. My priority was the future as always.”

  Miskaht flashed her a look of disapproval.

  “We should provide at least a piece of the truth.” Bennett rested his hands on his hips, taking the weight of his shoulders off his back. “Too much time for thinking and people will select what best fuels their self-proclaimed purpose. We have to say something. They need to know we hear them, and we aren’t ramming our way through this without consideration.”

  The Coordinator nodded in agreement then turned to Lavrion. “You are of the people. What do you think?”

  Lavrion scanned the four then out to the growing noise of the crowd. “We should set the record straight so they don’t riot. We don’t need any more injured. I would recommend acknowledging them because Bennett is right.” He hesitated. “They should hear it from a non-leader, someone they can relate to. Miskaht, you must know I’m not human, not qualified for this, even if I have lived among them. The people feel things they can’t always explain. It must be a human.”

  “I am aware.” She chewed on something invisible for a moment.