First Assault

by Kliment Dukovski

itself, that tight it was.

  Thank the gods for that, he thought with a raised eyebrow.

  She looked him from down there, her fingers working on her boot. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

  “Tired of what? Staring at you, or thinking of you?” He shook his head, eyes non-blinking, non-moving from her legs. “Never.”

  Luthis scoffed somewhere behind, but Ailios paid him no mind. It was Olivia he was preoccupied with.

  She finally straightened, relieving him from more embarrassing thoughts, and she put her helmet on. Ailios just sighed and shook his head. Everyone in his team seemed ready. After their final suit and weapons check, they were out through the hatch.

  Ailios thought it was pouring outside. He couldn’t be more wrong. Massive clouds had come down and surrounded them in a gray mist of water. Heavy drops splattered the garbage in never-ending barrage. For a moment they were reluctant to go farther than the ship’s cover. They exchanged glances. Luthis had the courage to push past them, taking the first step out in the open. His feet sank knee-deep in water between pieces of metal. He had to wade through the garbage to make progress toward the gate. He turned, his voice echoed in their helmets, “What, you want me to bring the doctor here for you?”

  Friseal went second.

  “Ladies first,” said Ailios. Olivia tilted her head and Ailios shrugged. I was just trying to be polite, he thought, knowing she would pick that up.

  “No need,” she said. “I know how polite you can be. Go ahead.”

  Ailios stepped in the open and the drops started bombarding him. He felt like he was under a drumhead where one relentless drummer kept on banging.

  The walk to the gate was one of pure agony – their feet sank into the cold stew of metal garbage and radioactive water. Sometimes they would slip and fall. Ailios had the worst of it, he liked to think. Just before he reached the gate he slipped on a piece of metal and fell, sinking into the garbage. Water splashed on his visor where he could see only grayness and rolling drops. He called for help but he thought no one heard him and no one saw him go down. Then a pair of hands dug him out. It was Olivia.

  “Thank you,” said Ailios as he stood up. He removed few wires that were coiled around his arms and legs like water snakes. “Whenever you want me to kiss you just say the word,” he said. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “Simple thanks will suffice,” she said.

  After that, they managed to reach the gate. Though gate was just a fancy word for what it truly was – a massive tubular passageway made out of an old ship’s carcass. They entered from where the engines used to be and went out through the cockpit. At least it provided some cover from the rain. On the other side of the gate they peered and constantly wiped the water from their visors so they wouldn’t miss their spy when he would show up, but they couldn’t see anything past three or four meters. Then they started walking across the street, their boots splashing in pools of mud and rainwater.

  “He’s coming,” said Olivia once they took shelter under a collapsed wall of an abandoned building. “We’ll wait here–”

  Everything turned violet in an instant and then a loud cracking sound almost deafened them.

  Luthis looked up, peering through the crack of their shelter. “Gods, I hate this place,” he said. “I hate thunderstorms. There’s more water raining here than all the oceans on Talam combined … why can’t we just leave the Cyon here? The spy will take it to the doctor, he’ll fix it, and Olivia can relay his messages to us.”

  “We’ve been through this already,” said Ailios.

  “Yeah, while I slept. I would’ve voted against this suicidal idea of yours.”

  “This is not a tribal council, Luthis. Whatever I say you guys follow. I thought we agreed on that.”

  Luthis scoffed but didn’t want to go further with this.

  “Is that…?” Friseal said, his finger pointing ahead. Someone was running in the rain, holding rectangular piece of metal over his head. They quickly realized it wasn’t human.

  “Before we meet our spy,” said Olivia, “I think you should know that he’s been here for forty years. Don’t be judgmental.”

  “Why would anyone be judgmental?” asked Ailios. “He’s one of us, isn’t he?”

  “I’m just saying. He’s been through a lot. But his loyalty to our tribes is unquestionable. Every time the Cyons sent a fleet to harass our planet, we knew, thanks to him.”

  “What are his abilities?” asked Luthis.

  “He’s a telepath.”

  “Another one like you,” said Ailios. “Sounds great.”

  “Actually, he’s more powerful than I am.”

  “It doesn’t matter. As long as he takes us to the doctor,” Ailios said. “He can be a Cyon for all I care.”

  “He will take us there. In fact, I think that’s him.” She nodded toward an approaching figure in the rain. The man was dressed in much the same suit they wore, though his suit seemed like an older model and quite worn out. Instead of black, his suit was more like a dark gray. He also had a black cloak and a hood over his helmet. When he was close enough, Ailios realized that his facial visor was painted black as well. The man was completely concealed from Cyons, no doubt.

  He first shook hands with Olivia. “It’s always nice to see a friendly face here,” he said with a stifled voice behind the helmet.

  “Thank you for agreeing to help us, Ray,” Olivia let go of his hand.

  The spy then shook hands with Friseal. “If it helps defeat the Cyons it’ll be my pleasure.”

  Ailios stepped forward. “Actually we have a more pressing concern.”

  The man turned his visor toward Ailios. It was as if staring at a black wall of glass. “So I’ve heard,” a voice behind the wall said. “You need a Cyon doctor.”

  “Yes, that is indeed a pressing concern. But I meant about the abominations – the creatures with bones of a Cyon and skin and organs of a human.”

  “Olivia informed me of their existence, although I haven’t seen such creatures here.”

  Ailios tapped him on the shoulder. “I hope you never do, my friend. Now, if you please, guide us to the slums. I can’t wait to see the misery of Palatine.”

  The man slowly inclined his head. “This way.” He went out in the open.

  Ailios and his team followed into the street and then into an underground passageway filled with Cyons. Ailios thought the spy was going to betray them, but then he realized the Cyons were injured and old, if barely functioning rusty bodies counted as old.

  “It’s faster this way,” Ray said, “and they won’t attack us. Most of them had never seen Bions before. If someone does attack us it will be for our possessions, or limbs, but not because of who we are.”

  “Humans,” Ailios said. He was walking right behind the spy.

  Ray half turned but didn’t stop walking. “Humans?”

  “You said they never saw Bions before. We’re humans. Only Cyons call us that.” Ailios couldn’t hold a grudge for that slip of Ray. Olivia said the man was here for forty years, it was remarkable that he remembered how to speak his language at all.

  They walked down a stairway and emerged into a badly lit tunnel where a transparent bowl hung from a long wire from the ceiling and gave light to this place with its flickering flames. That’s when Luthis activated his suit’s lights. Two wide beams extended from his helmet. “Not everyone has cat eyes,” he said more to himself.

  The tunnel was quite narrow with rust on the walls and something that looked like wall paintings, though they were long faded. Between paintings there were open doors to both left and right. Ailios noticed there were Cyons lying inside, attached to cables coming down from the walls. He knew it was how they slept but he never saw one actually do it.

  Further down, they passed a group of Cyons who, as the spy explained, were gambling and drinking alcohol. At least that’s how he explained the syringes emptied into their cybernetic skulls.

  Ailios was amaze
d. It never struck him that the Cyons were the gambling kind, or the drinking kind. Maybe we’re not so different after all.

  Their visit to the tunnel eventually came to an end. Two Cyons were standing at a metal door. Ray said something in their tongue and the one who spoke back opened it and bid them farewell.

  On the outside it was still raining, but not as intense as before. Dark clouds were now hiding even darker skies. Ray said that in less than an hour it would be completely dark and that would make it easier for them to sneak through the city.

  They followed him as he led them behind a corner of another ruined building. He stopped there, back pressed against the wall. He wiped his visor with the back of his hand, and he peeked inside the building through the broken window. Once he made sure it was clear they went on.

  “That was a hideout of a very dangerous gang,” he said. “But they are in the upper parts of the city now. We should be safe.”

  “Humans safe on a Cyon home world is an oxymoron,” said Luthis. Ailios couldn’t agree more. Maybe Ray felt safe after living here for half a century, but Ailios was certain it was not how the rest of his group felt. Even now as his shoulder was rubbing the concrete wall, he expected some Cyon hand to burst from the wall and grab him by his neck, and then pull him inside to be torn apart–

  The wall exploded. Metal body flew out with chunks of concrete, taking Friseal with it. Another black-gray form leaped out of the hole and hurried to get the fallen one. Ailios felt his stomach clench as soon as he recognized the