by Matt King
“I thought you said we were in Nebraska,” Jerrod croaked.
Rising into the clouds were giant mountain peaks—mountains—black as volcanic rock. She had to convince herself that she was actually seeing what her eyes registered. She’d only been to the United States a couple of times, but she read enough to know that the Midwest was supposed to be flat. The winds aloft tugged at the swirling clouds, gradually unveiling a mountain top looming over them until it stood fully uncovered, thousands of feet above the dead earth. The tops don’t have snow, she thought, as though that were the only remarkable thing about them. They were bigger than anything along the Cascades, bigger than the Alaskan ranges or the peaks of Banff. Fog returned to obscure the peaks, so she looked to the north to catch a view of where the line of mountains ended. The chain stretched on, punching through the earth’s surface like a string of craggy teeth as it curved slightly to the west.
Eve craned her neck to take it in. “This shouldn’t be here.”
“Come on,” Max said, carrying Jerrod with adrenaline-fueled ease. “Let’s see if we can find a way over.”
Molly felt like she was walking through a daydream. She didn’t realize until they’d walked another hour that she hadn’t had water since they left the airfield. As they skirted south along the mountain range, the cloud cover overhead seemed to be thinning out. They could clearly see the next mile ahead of them, something she hadn’t been able to do since the first flakes of ashes began to blanket Vancouver all those months ago. A fresh wave of hope coursed through her. It was dangerous to have too much, she knew, but that didn’t stop her from wondering if maybe they’d finally found a way out of their long winter storm.
“We’re getting near the end,” Max said. He was laughing through wheezing breaths. “Can’t you see it’s brighter up ahead?”
He was right. The peaks were rounding out to rough mounds that tapered down and curved back to the west. Curving, curving—always curving. Like a circle. As they neared the turn, Molly thought she felt something in her suit—or rather the lack of something.
Her skin was warm.
“Grass!” Eve shouted. She ran to the edge of a cracked piece of earth and dropped to her knees. She ran her gloved fingers through the blades of a solitary tuft. “This is grass, isn’t it, Molly? I’m not seeing things?”
Molly’s fingers shook as she reached down to touch it. Life. Life had returned somehow. All along they’d been told that the country’s land would be barren for decades, a century or more, even. Nothing would grow, and yet here was nature, born again.
The wind rushed past, only this time it didn’t carry a train of fog with it to block their view. Instead, it held the low clouds at bay like a wall of swirling ash. They walked forward again, but only for a few yards. A flash of light broke through the clouds, unevenly at first and then in a wide swath. Molly had to shield her eyes. Tears formed, but for once they weren’t fueled by the weight of sadness. They were seeing sunlight. It was thin and weak, but it was sunlight, she was sure.
Eve’s faraway voice floated between them. “Stars…”
Overhead, as the clouds parted for good and the shafts of light dissipated to an even glow, she could see a sea of stars veiled by a thin layer of blue, the shade of blue she recognized from pictures taken at the edge of space. It was beautiful.
A noise from behind begged for her attention. She ignored it at first, wanting instead to soak in more of the sky. But the sound soon began to throb in her head. “Do you hear that?” she said.
“The buzzing?” Eve asked.
Max looked to the mountains. “Sounds more like vibration to me.”
The pressure in her ears was growing. Molly walked away from the group in the direction of the end of the mountain wall, which was now only as tall as a small office tower. A light glowed over the top of the ridge. It was pulsing in time with the rushing in her ears, like listening to a heartbeat. There was a warmth to the glow. An overwhelming urge gripped her. She needed to find its source. Had to.
She broke into a run. For reasons she couldn’t fathom, she felt the need to shed her bulky coat and suit. It was hampering her, keeping her from experiencing this grand event. That’s what it was now, right? A new event?
“Molly, what are you doing?!”
Eve’s voice trailed behind her as Molly neared the end of the mountain wall. She unzipped the seam between her helmet and the rest of her suit and tossed the spent covering behind her. Air filled her lungs. Warm air. She found herself giggling as she worked to get herself out of the bulky coat and radiation gear. The others had almost caught up to her. She started to run again as soon as she was free of her suit, determined to be the first to see it.
And then she did. Her eyes filled with tears.
Standing in a field of brilliant green grass was the image of a woman tall enough to kiss the heavens. A haze of yellow-white light danced around her hands, offered up to the sky as though she held the weight of an invisible Earth. Her flowing white robes and elegant body were translucent enough for Molly to see the enormity of the mountains that surrounded her on the other side. Sparkles shimmered in her long gray hair. Her silver eyes were kind, and she looked down at the earth with a gentle smile. She was a vision of grace and beauty.
A goddess.
Children of this Earth, hear me.
The woman’s silky voice drifted through Molly’s thoughts as though they were her own, leaving an even calm in its wake.
Do not be afraid. I know you are scared. I know you are hurt. You have been the victim of a terrible attack, one that has scarred your world, stolen your loved ones, and left you with nothing. You committed no crime, and yet you have paid the price for crimes committed against you.
My name is Amara, and I am here to protect this great planet from further harm.
Molly looked around to find Max and the others. They were frozen in place, staring with mouths wide open at the woman that filled the sky. Molly smiled at them with tears rolling down her cheek.
You will no doubt wonder where I have come from and what I have come to do. But more important, you seek answers. My kind has much to answer for. I am a member of the Circle, an ancient guild formed by the mutual desire to help guide humanity through life and the great power that awaits our ascension.
There are some among us now who have strayed from our peaceful mission. A few of the Circle—arrogant, angry creatures fueled by hatred of humankind—wish only to take their aggression out on those less powerful. Their wrath was brought upon you.
See them now. These are your attackers. These are your enemies.
A cold shudder cinched Molly’s chest. She was about to see the faces of the monsters responsible for the endless tide of death and misery, the monsters everyone feared would return after the fires died away. Her skin flushed.
The image of a man formed in her vision. She thought there must be some mistake. No man could cause what had happened. Then she felt something in her head, as though fingers had reached inside to plant something. Suddenly she knew—He is The Guardian. She looked at his strong face, slicked back hair, and graying beard as though she’d known him forever. He is the protector of the real threat.
Another image formed. This time she saw a picture of a warrior covered in dark blue metal armor. His face was protected by a mask with a reflective blue shield across the eyes. Gemini. He is the Gemini. Wherever he goes, death follows.
You have seen the truth, Amara spoke through her thoughts. Together, we can stand against these aggressors and heal this once-proud planet. What you see before you is the promise of what this world can be. Come to me, my children. I will send guides to keep you safe during your journey. You will be fed. You will want for nothing. And most important of all—you will be protected.
Molly fell to her knees and wept. She could dream again. She could allow herself the dream of a future.
She was saved.
THE LAST WINTER
CHAPTER ONE
“Ponies and rainbows.”
Bear’s confused voice crackled through August’s communicator. “What now?”
“Ponies, and rainbows.”
“I heard you, I just don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“Sometimes I like to think about random stuff we used to see on Earth that we don’t anymore, you know? Helps to remember.”
“All right then.”
The sentiment was true, but August was mostly just trying to keep it together so he didn’t puke. Riding on an asteroid had sounded so much cooler when Paralos first laid out his latest plan to thin Galan’s army. August had pictured himself like the kid on the cover of The Little Prince, standing tall on a space rock as he stared off into a star-filled galaxy. The reality was more like riding face-down on a roller coaster in the dark with nothing but a rusty handlebar to hold onto. He flexed his fingers around the anchor dug into the rock, mostly to test that the magnetic hold of his glove was still good. The fact that he hadn’t drifted off into space was proof enough that things were working, but he checked again, just to make sure. The seal held strong. He moved his index finger as far away from the release trigger as he could get it.
Bear, of course, was fine. Bear was always fine. No matter how insane things got, Bear never lost his cool, even when he was asked to ride rodeo on a space rock. Being seven feet tall and strong enough to rip this asteroid in half probably helps. Bear’s new armor made him nearly invisible against the surface, with the polished metal of his gauntlets and chest piece reflecting the dull grays of the asteroid. Only the angled eye slits of his helmet stood out. Their glow was eerily close to the orange shade of Shadow’s eyes. It had been a while since he’d seen Bear’s phase partner. Through some godly method he didn’t understand, Meryn had made it so Bear could switch places with a knife-clawed monster from across the galaxy, who looked like a walking dragon and treated August like a newborn cub.
It was a big hit at parties.
August settled in for the rest of the ride. Motion sickness aside, he couldn’t argue with the scenery. The asteroid rotated slowly enough to give them a view of their surroundings as it drifted through the asteroid belt. The system’s sun was a white dot a few million miles away, but the only heavenly body they were interested in was the small milky blue planet hidden among the drifting rocks. Bands of clouds covered the entire surface. He couldn’t look at the planet long, though. Staring at something that big looming over him only made the nausea worse. He turned back to Bear.
“Don’t you ever think about stuff back on Earth?” he asked.
“Ponies and rainbows, you mean?”
“No, I’m talking about things like baseball and movies and cheeseburgers.”
Bear space-shrugged. Every move they made on the rock was like acting out a slow motion action scene. “Sometimes I do, yeah.”
“Like what?”
“Little things, mostly. Thunderstorms. Mashed potatoes. Sunday races.”
“Comfort stuff.”
Bear considered it. “I suppose so.”
“What do you think it’s like back there now?”
“I don’t know. I hope it’s gotten back to normal.”
Fat chance of that. At the very least, Gemini’s blast had torn a path through Bear’s hometown. They never did see how bad the destruction was. If the government hadn’t assumed terrorism, they’d probably spent the last year hiding in fear of an alien invasion.
“Whenever we get back, it won’t be soon enough,” August said. “I’m tired of this hit-and-run stuff.”
“Tired of not facing any competition, you mean,” Bear replied.
“Doesn’t it get to you? It’s like killing vampires during the day. All you have to do is walk up and stab these machines in the heart. Where’s the fun in that?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Me neither, but it sounds boring.”
“What would you rather be doing?”
August had his answer ready. He needed to practice for the pitch he was going to make to Paralos later. “I’d take the Orphii, and whoever these phantom champions are that Paralos swears exist, and I’d head straight back home. That’s where he says Amara’s likely to be, and for once, I agree with him. We go back with everything we got and we finish this thing once and for all. No more running around.”
“You’re not worried about Gemini?”
“He’s a kid with a loaded weapon who probably doesn’t know how to use it. I’m not worried about him.”
“If it hadn’t been for Meryn, that kid with a weapon might’ve killed us both in one shot.”
August felt warmth rush to his skin, which was a welcome change from the chill of space, but he’d just as soon not think about their last few moments on Earth. As much as he tried to remember life before the Circle War, the scene that always came back to him was of the fires raging on the Lawson farm and the sky set ablaze by Gemini’s blast. And Meryn, of course. Meryn with the saddened look on her face after she’d broken the only rule of the Circle that was punishable by death—she’d interfered to save them.
“Do you think we’ll ever see her again?” Bear asked.
August looked at Bear and Bear gave him a quick glance back. This wasn’t the first time he’d asked. August could almost see him blushing beneath the mask. “I don’t know, Bear. Maybe Paralos could pass her a note.”
“Forget I asked.”
“Relax. I’m kidding. You know how Meryn is. She’ll probably show up one day and scare the crap out of us like she used to do. Remember that?”
Bear nodded, then turned away.
There was an unspoken rule between them that they wouldn’t discuss the days leading up to Bear’s father’s death, and going over Meryn’s entrance to Ray’s hospital room was getting dangerously close to the subject. “Anyway, she’ll turn up someday. Paralos as much as said he knew where she was hiding.”
“Paralos says a lot of things.”
“You don’t trust him?”
This time, the orange eye slits of Bear’s mask turned directly at August. “Do you?”
“He’s got his shady side, and his people skills could use some polishing. A lot of polishing, actually. But he’s been pretty straight with us lately.”
“I wouldn’t say that. He wouldn’t give me a reason when I asked why I was replacing your Horsemen this time out.”
Your Horsemen. Distrusting Paralos was one thing, but he never could put a finger on Bear’s problem with the Horsemen. Since they’d met back on the Phoenix base, Bear had treated the quadruplets to an endless string of side glances and tense conversation—not that talking to a gang of mutes was much of a conversation. Bear never could buy the idea that they’d switched over from Coburn’s side because they thought August was some kind of warrior sent from heaven. His theory was that they were opportunists, and if someone more powerful came along, they’d switch sides again in a heartbeat. August knew better, but that’s only because he’d worked with them for years. They were superstitious nutjobs, but they were the useful kind of nutjob. Any one of the brothers was a fighting force to reckon with, but the four of them together were nearly unstoppable. Plus, they’d passed the Meryn scrutiny test, which was good enough proof for him.
As the asteroid rotated and the planet slowly came back into view, August searched the darkness of space around it to spot the Orphii that had joined them for the raid. They should have shown up as two bluish-white columns hovering above the surface. The clouds were so bright, he couldn’t make out anything except the thin dark breaks between the bands of the clouds. Maybe Paralos would create a synapse for them if there was a problem once he and Bear got on the ground. If the raid was like any of the others, though, they wouldn’t be needed.
“How much longer do we have to stay out here?” Bear asked.
“It won’t be long before they take the bait.”
“You think this’ll work?”
“The scavenger probes look for certain types of
minerals that Galan uses to build his army. Paralos made sure this rock is chock full of the stuff. It’ll work.”
“I don’t know. As many factories as you’ve hit lately, he’ll probably be ready for us.”
August shrugged. “This is supposed to be the last big raid, right? We knock this out and maybe Paralos’ll agree to let us go back home.”
“One can hope,” Bear replied. He stared down at the planet. “You ever get the feeling we’re indentured servants?”
“Every damn day.”
A dark spot appeared through the planet’s clouds. It grew larger by the second, never wavering from its course.
“There it is.”
The robotic probe made a beeline for their asteroid, exactly as Paralos said it would. August gave Bear the signal to stop talking through their communicators, just in case the machine decided to scan for activity on the rock. They both got as low to the asteroid’s surface as they could. The probe eventually slowed its approach. The sphere’s shell was solid white—no markings—just like all of Galan’s creations. It kept its distance, watching their rock as it floated in place.
Come on, you bastard. What are you waiting on?
Finally, the probe moved closer. Up close, it was at least as wide as a city block. It drifted toward them until the bottom of its hull cast a shadow over their bodies. A narrow doorway opened like a camera lens, revealing the snaking arm of its towing system. Metal cords unwound into a fan of writhing tentacles that extended toward the face of the asteroid. The rock shook beneath August and Bear as the arms drilled into the surface.
Small circles appeared on the undercarriage of the sphere like numbers on a clock. They began to glow, sending trails of blue particles into space. The arms stretched taught. With a sudden lurch, the rock’s rotation came to a halt and they started to move toward the planet, slowly at first, only picking up speed once they’d maneuvered out of the asteroid field. August closed his eyes until the urge to puke went away again.
The forced radio silence continued as they made their way into the planet’s atmosphere. Wind howled across the face of the asteroid, blowing warm, acrid air through August’s mask. He could see the factory straight ahead. Like the others, it was a series of interconnected plain metallic buildings, bunched tightly around a large geodesic sphere in the center. Welcome to yet another Galactic Epcot.
