Strikeforce

by Nick James

He swallowed. “My parents are … my parents are dead.”

  She met his eyes. Her jaw tightened, like she didn’t know what to say. Instead, she held out her arms. He staggered forward, allowing her to embrace him.

  “There, there.” She patted his back like she used to do when he was little. He could argue with her again, run away into the night, but it was easier to simply give in and let her hold him.

  After a while, Cassius pushed away and wiped his eyes. “Thank you.”

  “They would have been very proud of you, Cassius. As proud as I am.”

  “Please don’t talk about yourself.”

  She nodded, a soft chuckle betraying her frown. “I’m sorry. Force of habit. But you’ve got to understand this. You’re more than a soldier.” She stepped away, resting her back against the wall. “There’s no debating your skill level. There never was. But beyond that … there’s something else inside of you. The kind of bravery that people like me can only dream of possessing. The ability to risk your life—not for yourself, but for everybody else.

  “I don’t know where it came from,” she continued. “Certainly not from me and my teachings. You’re incredibly special. Your parents must have been incredibly special as well.”

  He glanced up at her, searching for a hint of duplicity or insincerity. For once, it wasn’t there.

  He looked away. “That’s nice of you to say, but it’s a lie.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m a soldier, like you said. That’s what I was trained to be and that’s how I ended up. I fight. It’s all I know how to do. And when that doesn’t work, I kill. There’s nothing brave about that.”

  She sighed, appraising him for a moment before speaking. “We’ll see.”

  Silence fell between them, so quiet that Cassius could hear insects chirping in the distance. Encased inside his Ridium suit, he knew that all he would have to do is turn and focus and he’d be able to work out their exact location. He could probably conjure a fly-swatter from the dark stuff and snuff them out before they even knew what hit them.

  He swallowed. “I accept your apology, but that doesn’t mean things are going to be easy between the two of us.”

  “I never asked for that.”

  “Good.” He wiped the bottoms of his eyes. “You fight by my side, with no motive or exception. That’ll go a long way in proving that you mean what you say.”

  “Of course,” she replied. “I can’t think of anything that—”

  Her expression froze. She laid a hand on his shoulder, pulling him forward again. Her voice was a whisper as she gently prodded him around to face the scenery beyond their farmhouse. “Do you see that? We need to get inside.”

  He squinted. At first he didn’t notice them, his mind still clouded by Madame’s words and the memory he’d just witnessed. But as more and more appeared from the darkness, they became impossible to ignore.

  Red dots. Pairs of red dots.

  The eyes of the enemy, as the Drifters had called them.

  The dots surrounded the farmhouse, the closest as near as the dried-up tree in the front yard, the farthest half a block away, across the street hiding in the faraway brush.

  Cassius counted twenty-four dots in total, which meant twelve soldiers—easily more than they’d ever faced before.

  Instantly, he ordered the Ridium suit to cascade up over his head, covering his entire body. As before, the world transformed. Through the Ridium, he perceived outlines of their bodies. He noticed every subtle movement. The darkness no longer seemed a hindrance to him.

  There were more than twelve. And worse yet, they were ready to attack.

  34

  My fingers drum against the tabletop. I feel hopelessly out of place, but I don’t let that get to me.

  Captain Alkine stands in front of a window so big that it stretches across the entire wall of the curved meeting room, offering a panoramic view of the Pacific Ocean outside. Eight of his closest advisors sit on either side of the equally impressive tabletop, while Savon, Avery, and I take the far end. It’s Skyship Academy’s largest situation room—a place I had never been granted access to before this whole fiasco.

  Alkine paces, head bowed as he speaks. “What do we know? That’s the first order of business, and that’s why you’re so valuable, Jesse.”

  I glance at my father. There’s so much to tell, and I don’t know where to begin. But even knowing all I do about the Authority and Haven, I still can’t offer much in the way of concrete battle plans.

  Savon responds before I can say anything. “We’re awaiting his brother, Cassius Stevenson.”

  Alkine’s brows rise. “Cassius? The same kid who nearly got us all killed?”

  “My father thinks—”

  “I don’t think,” Savon interrupts. “I know. My two sons, together, can bring the end of this invasion.”

  Alkine stops. “How, exactly?”

  “I designed Pearl transport. The effects on their physiology run deep. The Authority won’t be able to—”

  “And what is the Authority meaning to do, exactly?” Alkine leans his hands on the edge of the table. “Besides destroy our civilization, that is.”

  I look over to him. There’s a crackle in the air between Alkine and my father. They’re likely the two strongest men I’ve met. I know neither quite trusts the other. That schism can’t be allowed to grow into anything more.

  “Look,” I start. “I know we haven’t seen eye to eye very often, especially lately. But Savon says Cassius is on his way, and I trust him. I’ve been having these visions and … and he’s already saved my life more than once. Hear him out. There’s more that Cassius and I can do than you know about. There’s a reason we were chosen for this.”

  Alkine sighs, glancing at each of his advisors before speaking. “Point me in the right direction. That’s all I ask. I want to help, not to get in the way. But I need something to do. As far as we know, we’re the only operational Skyship in the country. That’s got to count for something.”

  I nod, waiting for my father to speak. He doesn’t. Instead, he closes his eyes. His entire face tenses for a moment before relaxing again.

  Then I feel it.

  The familiar tug of Pearls pulls on my chest. The hairs on my arms stand on end. I look past Alkine, at the ocean beyond the glass. In seconds I see a pair of green orbs shooting down at a diagonal, headed toward me.

  Alkine catches my distracted expression. “Fisher?”

  I grit my teeth. Normally, I’d welcome the arrival of Pearls, but not when I’m onboard a ship like this. I don’t want to do any more damage to the Academy than I already have.

  “Move away from the window,” I say. Just in case.

  I stand and bring my arms out in front of me, as if readying to conduct an orchestra. I watch the Pearls’ descent carefully, but more than that I feel them in my gut. I can’t let them get too close before breaking them.

  Raising both hands at once, I wait until they’re in full sight and clench my fists.

  Each and every advisor at the table careens backward, instinctively reacting to the dual explosions outside. For a second, the once-calm panorama beyond the window is a sea of dense green energy. Whatever hits the ship itself works its way into the circuitry, giving our engines a nice boost. The rest shoots into the sky in all directions.

  It takes a moment before I see the Drifters freed from the falling Pearls. I expect them to pinwheel off in varying directions, shock-addled by the new world they find themselves in, but instead they continue on in their exact paths toward the meeting room, pointed like daggers descending on the window.

  I step back. “What?”

  I bring both arms forward, hoping that maybe I can manipulate the energy around them—force them in a different direction. Even if they hit the window, they can’t be strong enough to break through the thick layer of fiberglass. They aren’t Pearls anymore.

  I’m wrong.

  Both Drifters easily bore their way through the wi
ndow, assisted by their fields of green energy. Before I can react, the glass shatters in two oversized bullet holes, letting loose an instant vacuum in the room. Anything not nailed down flies out of the openings. Advisors bolt to the far end, nearest to the inner wall.

  I don’t move. Instead, I watch the Drifters come at my father, so fast and intent that there’s no way I’m stopping them.

  He backs away, but not before they collide with his body, setting forth an explosion of green that sends everyone but me tumbling off their feet.

  The energy courses into my body, making me stronger.

  My father lurches downward, but remains standing. Barely. The Drifters pulse backward in the air, then come at him again. Punching. Kicking. Biting. Anything they can do to keep him from getting the opportunity to fight back.

  They’re crazy. Rabid. I have to do something.

  Once I’m able to overcome the shock of it, I stumble forward, fighting the pull from the air as it whips past me. I focus in on the closest Drifter—reach out my hand in clawed desperation—and grab hold of the energy. With as much strength as I can muster, I pull my arm sideways across my chest and watch as the Drifter follows the same arc, yanked back through the air until he smashes into the window.

  He struggles, arms and legs flailing like a giant insect, but I keep him flattened against the glass. And when I let go, the suction from the nearest hole instantly pulls him out.

  Savon still fights against the second Drifter—hand-to-hand combat that moves so fast it almost becomes a blur. I latch onto the Drifter’s energy and try to slow him down, pull his arms behind his back so that my father can strike a decisive blow.

  It doesn’t take much. The poor Drifter doesn’t stand a chance against our combined power. Once I’ve got him frozen, my father hits him with a powerful punch to the jaw. I gently lower the now-unconscious Drifter to the ground.

  Free from the threat of attack, I realize that Savon and I are the only two left in the room. Everyone else retreated out the door to the corridors beyond during the fight. It’s a good thing, too, as the chamber’s becoming more and more depressurized as the openings in the window continue to spread.

  I try to meet my father’s eye, but he turns away, heading for the door.

  I step forward, unsure of what to say or do. I’ve never seen friendly Drifters act like that before. Not only had they been strong enough to breach the room, but the kamikaze-like intention in their movements was uncharacteristic for a newly freed Drifter, and more than a little unsettling.

  Plus, they’d gone straight for my father, like they’d been programmed by the Authority or something.

  “We’ve gotta get out of here,” I shout to him. “Before the—”

  “I need to talk to you, Jesse,” he interrupts. “Alone.”

  With that, he pulls on the door handle and disappears into the hallway. I take a deep breath and follow, hairs still on end, heart beating double time.

  35

  Cassius pushed Madame back toward the doorway of the farmhouse. “Get back inside.”

  “I’m not leaving you here alone.” She stood her ground.

  Cassius stole another glance into the darkness. He wasn’t sure if the foot soldiers’ intent was to sneak up. If so, they were failing. If not, their movement seemed unusually slow. The longer they took, the less convinced he became that they meant to attack at all.

  Ignoring Madame, he took the two steps down from the porch and stood in the front walkway, waiting.

  The soldiers continued their approach. Cassius could see their every move—darkness or no darkness. They formed a semi-circle in front of him, eyes glowing crimson in rapt attention. It was as if they were analyzing him. Like they weren’t sure exactly who they were looking at.

  Cassius stood his ground, taking deep breaths to keep himself calm. Don’t let them think that you’re afraid of them.

  He balled his fists at his side. The Ridium quivered against his skin, ready to obey any command he gave it.

  Instead of attack, the nearest soldier opened his mouth to speak.

  Cassius knew that his words were another language. Part of his brain couldn’t understand them at all. Yet somehow the Ridium translated. Somewhere deep inside his mind, the meaning became clear.

  “Soldier,” the Drifter started, “what is your number?”

  Cassius hesitated, unsure of what exactly the guy was asking. Then he remembered what Fisher had said about the Drifters—that they all had numbers attached to their names, that it had something to do with social standing on Haven.

  He decided to play along. Taking a quick stock of the brigade before him, he didn’t notice any obvious weapons. That didn’t mean that they couldn’t be concealing something, but they clearly didn’t know who they were dealing with. Lying would be a reasonable option.

  “Two thousand seventy-eight,” he answered. He wasn’t sure if his reply came out in English or the new Haven language, but the soldiers seemed to understand.

  “A middling number,” the man replied. “And what are you doing in this territory? There is nothing here of note.”

  Cassius gritted his teeth. “I could ask you the same.”

  The alien chuckled. “Careful. You have not yet asked my number. You should not be so confident that you outrank me. I’m the one asking the questions here.”

  Cassius smiled. He’d dealt with soldiers like this before. He’d grown up with them his whole life in the Lodge. There was no use trying to be funny or casual. This guy put his stock in the chain of command. Rules and regulations. Nothing more, nothing less.

  The Drifter kept his feet planted, eyes fixed on Cassius. “You should come with us, soldier. It’s not wise to be out here alone, waiting for instructions that will never come. The people who live in these places … they are the most rudimentary and aggressive of all the humans we’ve come across. This is their territory and they know it well. You are at a disadvantage, here by yourself. It doesn’t matter how strong your suit is.”

  Cassius raised his shoulders, refusing to move any closer to the battalion. “Where are you going?”

  “Our final attack begins soon,” the Drifter replied. “While our non-Shifting allies continue their disruption of this civilization, we must be in position, ready to answer the call when it is given. It’s lucky for you that we were passing through this area and felt the presence of your suit. Even luckier that I am not King Matigo himself. He surely wouldn’t be thrilled with a soldier of his own training shirking the responsibilities that were so honorably given to him.”

  Cassius wanted desperately to glance back at the house and see if Madame was still standing behind him, but he knew that if he showed the slightest amount of concern, his cover would be blown.

  Too late.

  The soldier’s next question trapped him.

  “Are you aware that there are humans inside that building behind you?”

  Cassius shook his head immediately, instantly regretting it. A “no” too early could be just as much an admission as a “yes.”

  “Hmm.” The lead soldier turned to glance at the battalion to his right, then to his left. He didn’t need to say a word. The black-clad soldiers sprang into action immediately, bounding toward the farmhouse. Cassius wanted to shout out, to warn Madame and Eva. But there wasn’t time. The Authority moved as one unit, swift and unforgiving. His only option was to fight back.

  But what use was he—a kid who’d just discovered the power to shift Ridium—against a battalion of trained soldiers, presumably Shifting for years now?

  Luckily, Cassius had never been one for fair fights.

  He let loose with all he had, all at once. The Ridium exploded around him, transforming into dozens of tentacles, all reaching out in different directions. Coils surged at each of the oncoming soldiers, forcing them to defend themselves.

  And they did, with little trouble.

  As impressive as his initial assault had been, the Authority soldiers cut through his atta
cks in moments. Some sculpted their Ridium into sharp, knifelike blades. Once sliced, the tentacles from Cassius’s suit dribbled into mush, rolling across the ground to reform with the rest of him.

  Others responded with vast Ridium shields. What looked like black umbrellas formed over their torsos, easily pushing back his meager creations.

  He’d given himself away. As soon as the soldiers realized that they had a battle on their hands, they moved all their attention from going after Madame and Eva to attacking Cassius head-on.

  He went from the offensive to defensive in a matter of seconds, conjuring tendrils to push back against them. But he was only one against a small army. No matter how fast he moved, they had more firepower.

  One of their Ridium coils wrapped around his leg, just below the knee. Before he could pull away, he was yanked upside down, into the air. He flew backward, away from the house. His arms flailed as the ground came up at him. Just before hitting, he managed to form a cushion of Ridium in front of his body. He bounced before landing on his back.

  Tendrils whipped at his body, covering ankles, toes. They were gonna pull him apart, piece by piece. Is that what these people did to traitors?

  “Wait!” He heard the lead soldier’s voice call from somewhere past his feet. “Keep your hold tight, but don’t kill him. I want to ask a few questions first.”

  Cassius squirmed on the ground, held down by dozens of oily black coils. He kept from Shifting his own suit, knowing that they would only force him to the ground again. He needed a moment to refuel. If this guy wanted to talk, Cassius would take it as an opportunity to regain his bearings.

  The lead soldier’s eyes, red as lasers, came into view overhead. Everything else was black. “Tell me, number two thousand seventy-eight … if that really is your number … who do you serve in this war?”

  Cassius remained silent. He let his limbs fall still, refusing to struggle against the coils. He knew that he should try to keep up the lie as long as possible and give the guy the answer he wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.