Darwin's Soldiers

by Ste Sharp

  Panzicosta had been brought here too, against his will.

  John took his gun-arm off and spoke to Panzicosta. ‘You’re not my real enemy.’

  ‘Good choice, John,’ Euryleia said.

  John looked to Lavalle. ‘If we move fast we can get to the silver gates before sundown.’

  ‘Are you our new leader now?’ Crossley stepped forward and put an arm around him, ‘’cos God knows we need one,’ he cast a glance at Lavalle, ‘and I’m not sure who can fill Mihran’s shoes.’

  ‘Samas will lead us,’ Lavalle replied to Crossley’s barbed comment. ‘He will lead us to the silver gates and complete our journey.’

  ***

  The alliance of humans, Sorean and Lutamek wound its way off the battlefield, bound for the silver gates, led by Samas, who talked with Nine-five and Jakan-tar. Lutamek scouts were chasing the surviving Brakari back to Abzicrutia, giving the army a clear path ahead, while other Lutamek had constructed carts to transport the entire army to the gates before sundown. Althorn lay prostrate on a cart next to a burnt-out tree stump, which John assumed was Mata, Dakaniha was on a tocka with Gal-qadan’s cavalry, which he kept separate from Lavalle’s, and Osayimwese was walking with Olan.

  Delta-Six walked with them and soon picked John out. ‘John Greene!’ he said and joined him.

  The athletic man looked different; his skin had a metallic shine and he seemed more relaxed.

  ‘Delta-Six,’ John replied and put his good hand in his pocket. It was the electric shock that had caused his arm to melt into his gun after all.

  Delta-Six pointed at his gun-arm. ‘I’m told it works?’

  John nodded. ‘It can do some damage,’ he said. ‘How about your changes?’

  ‘Let’s just say they’re interesting…’ Delta-Six smiled.

  It was the first time John had seen him smile and he relaxed a little. ‘You must be looking forward to getting back to your war now?’

  Delta-Six stared at John for a second, as though holding something back, then said, ‘Actually, no. I’m not sure where I want to go now.’

  ‘But you wanted to fight.’

  ‘I was needed and I had a duty but…’ Delta-Six shook his head.

  ‘We all had to fight in the end,’ John said. ‘This land made soldiers of us.’

  ‘Made?’ Delta-Six asked. ‘I was born to be a soldier.’ John could see pain in his eyes. ‘If we weren’t born to fight, why are there so many warriors here? It must be in our nature.’

  ‘But that means we don’t have a choice,’ John replied. ‘That we have to fight… but we always have a choice.’

  Delta-Six nodded.

  ‘Delta-Six!’ Samas shouted. ‘There’s someone here you need to meet.’

  ‘It was good to talk,’ Delta-Six said.

  ‘Yeah, bye,’ John said, and watched him join Samas and the Lutamek.

  John scanned the rest of the army. There were some faces he didn’t recognise: two enormous, brown-scaled creatures and an Asian swordsman.

  ‘Who’s that?’ John caught up with Crossley and asked him.

  ‘Oh, that’s Isao.’

  John didn’t recognise the name.

  ‘The samurai,’ Crossley explained. ‘He was one of the spirit warriors Dakaniha told me about.’

  ‘Oh.’ John remembered seeing the ghostly swordsmen through his gas mask. ‘And the two big brown…?’

  ‘Armadillos?’ Crossley laughed and shook his head. ‘Dunno, Althorn brought them along. Hey, did you hear about what that swindler Gal-qadan did?’

  John shook his head.

  ‘He gave me a duff weapon and kept the real thing, you know, the one he found. Then five minutes ago I saw him giving it to that one-eyed giant.’

  ‘Peronicus-Rax?’ John asked. ‘He’s here too?’

  ‘Yeah, the watcher. So I just walked over, cool as anything, and gave him the dud weapon too. Even Gal-qadan couldn’t…’

  Crossley’s words faded as John watched the people walking with them, sharing stories and showing off trophies, talking of lost comrades and heroic events. They passed three Lutamek pulling a cart loaded with large metal eggs, each one nearly as big as him.

  By the time the silver gates came into view, some hours later, the green clouds were tinged peach as the sun started to set. They descended a long hill past a squalid encampment teeming with more bizarre alien soldiers, surrounded by a wall of mist. In the distance, John saw the shadow of Abzicrutia and realised how close he’d been to the gates.

  ‘Jeez, look at that!’ Crossley pointed to where a wind had pulled back the mist to reveal the gleaming silver gates.

  John had never seen anything so large or beautiful.

  ‘They’re set in glass walls,’ Crossley said, when the cart slowed down.

  John peered up at the walls, which disappeared into the clouds above and the mist, which ran as far as he could see on either side. ‘Will they open?’ he asked, as they joined the queue Lavalle was organising.

  Crossley shrugged. ‘Who knows.’

  ‘Stop!’ A shout rang out, followed by a wild roar of a hundred warriors baying for blood.

  ‘Oh, hell.’ Crossley peered past the Lutamek. ‘Looks like we’ve got trouble.’

  John squinted. Ahead of the line, Samas talked to a small army carrying an array of lethal-looking alien weaponry.

  ‘I will deal with them.’ Peronicus-Rax lumbered past with his cascade of weapons clattering with each step.

  Crossley gave John a look. ‘He’s probably in cahoots with them, you know, wants to take a cut of whatever we pay.’

  John shook his head. ‘No, he may be selfish but he wouldn’t do that.’

  ‘Really?’ Crossley raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Look.’ John pointed to where Peronicus-Rax stood with the aggressors. He unclipped one of the long, silver weapons and handed it over.

  ‘He’s done that before.’ Crossley stood with his hands on his hips.

  ‘Who cares?’ Lavalle had overheard. ‘He’s bought us safe passage.’

  ‘Whatever,’ Crossley replied, and the army walked past the grinning alien soldiers, tinkering with their new toy. Crossley turned to John. ‘That was my weapon – he sold them a dud,’ he chuckled, but the sound of power coursing through the glinting rifle made Crossley frown. ‘Ah, goddamit.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ John said. ‘We’re leaving now.’ He pointed at the enormous silver gates. ‘You won’t need it anyway.’

  ‘Why? What do you think’s through there? The land of milk and honey?’

  ‘No, I…’ John had suppressed his true wishes since Li had told him about Joe’s full life. There was no way of going home, but there was always a chance, wasn’t there? ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I don’t either but it won’t be pretty.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, Althorn said his mates, the two huge armadillos, come in and out when they feel like a fight,’ Crossley said.

  ‘They come back in?’ John didn’t understand. ‘Why would they want to come back into this hellhole?’

  ‘Exactly!’ Crossley replied.

  John saw the two huge brothers at the front of the file. They were enormous, even bigger than the Lutamek.

  ‘Do you think they have to win a battle every time they want to leave?’ John asked.

  ‘Maybe,’ Crossley replied. ‘I haven’t seen Peronicus-Rax doing much fighting though and it looks like he’s joining us.’

  A motley group of malnourished soldiers of various shapes and forms watched on with envy as the victory parade passed through the encampment.

  ‘Poor bastards,’ Crossley said.

  These were the losers, John thought, and tried in vain to remember some of the names of the armies who had lost. Some were lone warriors, others huddled with their comrades. Was this what would become of the Brakari? John wondered. And Panzicosta?

  An explosion made him turn to see a cloud of smoke where the guerrillas had been standing
. Bodies lay in piles around a small crater and the nearest alien soldiers were rushing in to pilfer from the dead gangster clan.

  ‘Hurry up!’ Lavalle beckoned them over and John and Crossley jogged through the camp to where their leaders stood at the seam of the two silver gates.

  ‘Their prices were getting too high,’ John overheard Peronicus-Rax explaining to Nine-five.

  ‘So, what now?’ Crossley shouted.

  ‘Now we pass through.’ Peronicus-Rax gestured to Samas, Jakan-tar and Nine-five, who pressed their hands against the metal of the seam.

  A low rumble shook the air and John took a step back as a dark line ran down the seam and released steam. Beside John, Crossley was coughing. Deep clicks resonated from the wall above as the two enormous doors slid apart, sweeping up into the walls on either side. John craned his neck, trying to get a view through, but all he could see was mist. He gave up and ran his metal toes through the ash on the ground, which reminded him of the soldier with the red armband Delta-Six had zapped on the first day.

  ‘And now we walk through,’ Peronicus-Rax said and the three leaders walked with him into the mist.

  The nearest soldiers followed and the host of Lutamek, Sorean and humans slowly disappeared.

  John cast a glance back at the land that had been their home for the last fourteen days. The green clouds turned a shade of purple and Abzicrutia shimmered orange in the distance.

  ‘Here goes then.’ Crossley gave John a wink and they stepped through together.

  ***

  The mist was cool and refreshing. John turned to Crossley but couldn’t see him. Was this it? Am I going home now? he thought. Will I walk through the mist and find myself back in Flanders? Back to the mud, the rats and the bombs? John’s gun-arm clicked.

  You are strong, he told himself. You’re ready for anything now.

  Five steps later, a new world opened up before John. He blinked and cupped his eyes with his good hand. The light was intense after so many days under a clouded sky and, after a few more steps, the immense landscape became clear. On the horizon a blood-red sun set the sky aflame with vibrant oranges and pinks.

  ‘Jeez!’ Crossley was next to him. ‘I need my shades.’

  John rubbed the tears from his eyes. Silhouettes of the leaders and other soldiers were ahead of him and the vast landscape took shape as his eyes grew accustomed to the light. It was larger than any view he’d ever seen and seemed to go on forever. Hills and ravines flowed away from their position. Everything was blurred in the distance and the colour of the setting sun, which sat minutes from the horizon, didn’t help, turning everything orange.

  John walked to where the leaders talked with Peronicus-Rax.

  ‘…only as far as the second ridge. At least three days to that point.’

  ‘And the domes?’ Lavalle asked.

  ‘What domes?’ John focused on the distant hills. They were symmetrical and glowed as though reflecting the sun’s rays. Were they domes?

  ‘They look like huge greenhouses if you ask me,’ Crossley said, shading his eyes like John was.

  ‘As far as I can tell they’re the same size as our dome,’ Peronicus-Rax said, ‘but I’ve never ventured that far.’

  ‘Our dome?’ John asked.

  He felt his neck crawl. Slowly, he turned back to look at the silver gates, which were hard to see through the mist, but the surrounding walls were clear: curving away to the left, the right and straight up.

  They had just walked out of an immense dome.

  A blue bolt of electricity caught John’s eye as it leapt out of the left gate and turned a silhouette into a pile of ash.

  ‘Coward,’ a voice said.

  John looked up to see one of Althorn’s giant armadillo allies. ‘He didn’t fight,’ he explained.

  John nodded.

  Crossley said, ‘So the rules about the land were true? Fight or die.’

  ‘And all of that land was inside a huge dome?’ John asked, and shook his head.

  ‘Looks like it.’ Crossley was staring up, open-mouthed. ‘I’d guessed something was up from what I saw underground, but I never expected it to be this big. Jeez!’

  John’s eyes followed the glass wall up and, scattered across the dusky sky, he saw what looked like dozens of small moons. ‘What is this place?’ he asked nobody.

  A hissing sound signalled the closing of the silver gates and John turned back to the long view. He could see everything clearly now. The distant horizon was an undulating line of curved domes. Too many to count.

  Nine-five’s voice caught John’s attention. ‘You’re saying the entire planet is covered with these domes and the orbiting spheres could be related?’

  ‘Yes, it’s possible,’ Peronicus-Rax said, and pointed at one of the nearest domes. ‘Look – another species is coming in.’

  A dark shape descended from the orange sky. If the size of the dome was anything to go by, this aircraft was immense. The whole army watched as it gently landed on a flat landing platform on top of a distant dome.

  ‘That’s all we’ll be able to see from here,’ Peronicus-Rax said. ‘Everything else happens inside.’

  Questions were coming thick and fast from everyone now, but the leaders had priority. What happened now? Why were there no obelisks? Where should they go? How could they get food? Were they allowed back into the dome?

  Peronicus-Rax and the armadillo brothers answered where they could.

  ‘Stop!’ Peronicus-Rax eventually yelled, and held up his huge hands. ‘All I know is we were brought here to fight.’

  ‘But we’ve fought already and won!’ Samas said. ‘Who brought us here and what do they plan for us next?’

  ‘I don’t have all the answers,’ Peronicus-Rax replied. ‘Everyone brought here is of a warrior-class species and has to fight. However, I have heard of the Ascent.’

  ‘The Ascent?’ John repeated. ‘Is that who brought us here?’

  Peronicus-Rax blinked his solitary eye. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘So this place was just some bloody gladiator’s arena?’ Crossley asked, pointing at the dome.

  Nobody replied. The truth was sinking in for everyone. They were soldiers. They had to fight.

  Just like when they had crowded around the first obelisk, Althorn stepped forward, now wearing a cloth eye patch. ‘I believe everything within the dome – our enhancements, our battles, our alliance – has simply been our training.’

  ‘Our training?’ Crossley almost screeched.

  ‘Training for what?’ John asked.

  ‘To get used to your new abilities,’ Peronicus-Rax replied.

  John squinted at the gigantic domes beyond. ‘And to get ready for the next battle.’

  THE END

  Read on for an exclusive extract of the next book

  in the Origin Trilogy, Survival.

  Extract from Survival

  Find out what happens next by reading this extract from S urvival ( Book Two of the Origin Trilogy )

  John was desperate for answers but couldn’t make sense of the diagrams and numbers on the screen in front of him. Delta-Six had been able to read them and had pressed the buttons on the desk to change the symbols on the screen but he’d disappeared to search for more information.

  ‘We haven’t got long until the Synchronisers come back,’ Osayimwese hissed.

  ‘I know!’ Crossley replied before John could. ‘I’m still searching… Delta-Six said telomere latency, right?’

  ‘Yeah,’ John replied, vaguely remembering the conversation, and Osayimwese nodded.

  They had found records for other species brought into the dome but they needed to find details on humans, Lutamek or Sorean and then transfer everything to the thin sliver of metal Ten-ten had given them. Just thinking about it gave John a headache: his reading skills had never been great and, after he’d left school, he hadn’t had much need for them delivering veg or defending his trench.

  ‘It would be quicker if Delta-Six was h
ere,’ Osayimwese said.

  ‘Sure it would,’ Crossley replied, ‘but he’s off on one of his missions, so…’

  John looked around the curved room for any telltale shadows. Rar-kin, the Sorean, was outside, tending to the young Lutamek that had brought them to the top of the dome using the helium-filled sac on its back, so any shadow would belong to Delta-Six or one of the robotic Synchronisers who ran the dome cap.

  The building was bigger than any he had seen before – an immense doughnut-shaped structure that capped the dome top and matched the locking connectors they had seen on the transportation ships. The hole in the centre gave them access to the dome to deposit the new soldiers.

  John stared through the rectangular window above the computer screen at the locked-in ship. He was still amazed at the thought that he and his friends had gone through the same process these squid-like creatures had endured when woken from stasis. They were still being processed by the look of things, which bought them more time.

  ‘Ah, what’s this?’ Crossley said and John leaned over to see a list of names, which he guessed he could read thanks to the translator fungus in his brain.

  ‘Looks like us,’ John said with a smile and tried to find his name.

  ‘Just save it to that… piece of metal,’ Osayimwese said.

  ‘Already on it,’ Crossley replied and slipped the grey sheet into the slot as Delta-Six had shown them. ‘Just move that there… and some more files here… Lutamek, Sorean, the new guys are the Tathon apparently… and here’s the Brakari.’ He gave John a wink. ‘Might as well have them too, eh?’

  John looked away and wondered what had happened to Millok and General Panzicosta? He moved to a new screen that showed images of life inside the dome, beneath the haze of cloud that obscured the Synchronisers’ base.

  A sound made him turn.

  ‘Do you hear that?’

  ‘Yes.’ Osayimwese was already in a defensive position, holding his spear and eggshell dagger. ‘Someone is running this way.’

  ‘What do we do?’ John asked. ‘That’s the way back out.’

  ‘I’m still saving the information,’ Crossley said.