After Earth

by Peter David

  It was after he had plunged his cutlass into the construct’s back, as he was drawing it out again, that he caught a glimpse of a shadow passing over the squad. The kind of shadow an Ursa would make if it were leaping from roof to roof, even if it were otherwise camouflaged.

  He wanted to yell, but instead he touched his naviband and said, “Ursa!” Then he leaped off the back of the mechanical construct.

  A moment later, the creature appeared in the middle of the street.

  “Surround it,” Gwynn barked, exactly as he was supposed to.

  They fanned out, four Rangers to each side of the street. But Cade’s assignment was different from anyone else’s. As a Ghost, he was supposed to find a soft spot and go for the kill.

  He was looking for an opening, confident that he wouldn’t be seen by the beast until it was too late, when the Ursa suddenly went after Gwynn. He had gotten too close, Cade realized. But then, corralling one of the beasts wasn’t an exact science. It was easy to make a mistake.

  Gwynn managed to activate his cutlass’s blade configuration in time to deal the Ursa a slash to the face, but that didn’t stop the creature. It smashed into the squad leader with bone-rattling force, sending him flying backward into the base of an ersatz building.

  Cade had the opening he had been looking for. While the Ursa was busy with Gwynn, he would be able to land on it and plunge his cutlass into the soft spot on its back.

  But Gwynn would be mauled first.

  He knew that with the same certainty with which he knew his own name. And he couldn’t let it happen. He had seen Nava spill her blood on the ground, and he couldn’t bear the thought of that happening to another of his teammates.

  So Cade leaped onto the thing’s back and used his cutlass to vault over it.

  He twisted in midair and came down between the Ursa and Gwynn. The monster didn’t see him, of course. He could have gotten out of the way at the last moment and remained utterly unscathed.

  But that wasn’t his plan.

  Going hook with his cutlass, he buried its business end in the Ursa’s mouth. Then he yanked it to the side for all he was worth.

  The move pulled the Ursa off its course, keeping it from sinking its teeth into Gwynn. However, it also forced Cade to take the brunt of its charge. He twisted his body at the last moment to try to avoid the impact—but he couldn’t.

  The next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground not far from Gwynn, the metallic taste of blood thick in his mouth. He had taken a beating. But he was still alive, still able to think, still able to find his cutlass in the dirt.

  As he regained his senses, he saw that his teammates were in disarray. Their strategy had gone haywire, and their leader was sprawled on the ground, unconscious and maybe worse.

  “We can still do this,” Cade said into his navi-band even as he went spear with his cutlass. “Hit it from behind. Turn it around.”

  The others went into action. All they had needed was a little push.

  As they attacked the Ursa, it did exactly what Cade had hoped: It turned on them, giving him the opening he needed. Dragging himself to his feet, he ignored the injuries he had suffered in his collision with the monster, took two painful steps to gather some speed, and leaped onto its back.

  Still stunned, he wasn’t moving as quickly as he had before. But he managed to hang on when the Ursa tried to dislodge him, lift his weapon above his head, and drive it deep into the thing’s back.

  Then the Ursa did dislodge him. He hit the ground, rolled, and looked up to see what had happened.

  What he saw was the beginning of the beast’s death throes. The spear had done its work. They all had.

  But Cade didn’t stay there to watch the Ursa die. He picked himself up and staggered over to where Gwynn still lay on the ground.

  Be alive, he thought. Be alive …

  The squad leader’s face was bruised and bloody. Pitifully so. And he wasn’t moving. Is he even breathing?

  “Gwynn …?” he said.

  No response.

  A second time: “Gwynn?”

  He was about to start mouth to mouth when he saw Gwynn’s eyelids flutter open. Cade heaved a sigh of relief. He’s alive, he thought. Alive.

  Still, the guy was going to need a doctor. Cade could hear his teammates behind him, making the arrangements.

  Gwynn groaned at him through swollen lips, but Cade couldn’t make out what the squad leader was trying to say. He leaned down and put his ear next to Gwynn’s mouth.

  What he heard was, in words like the rusting of weeds, “What took you so long?”

  Cade laughed.

  “What’d he say?” one of the others asked.

  Cade laughed again. “None of your damned business.”

  He felt a hand on his shoulder. Then another. Then someone else grabbed hold of him, and yet another hugged him from behind.

  Before he knew it, he was part of one big embrace. Not just a bunch of Rangers sharing a victory but something more than that. He had survived. But—more important—so had they.

  Together.

  Cade was hot and dusty and more than a little stiff-muscled as he exited the transport that had brought him and his squad back from the San Franciscos to the Ranger compound. He was looking forward to a shower and some shut-eye.

  What he encountered instead was Velan’s adjutant, standing there by the transport. “The commander wants to see you,” the guy said.

  Cade had a notion why that might be. “All right,” he said, “let’s go.”

  He cast a look back over at his teammates. They looked concerned. Maybe they were right to be so.

  After all, Cade had risked his life to save Gwynn back at the desert training facility a few days earlier. And a Ghost, as Gwynn himself had pointed out more than once, was too valuable to risk that way.

  Unfortunately, he’d had no choice. He couldn’t have let Gwynn die the way Nava had died. Faced with the same choice again, he would have done the same thing.

  Surely Velan’ll see that.

  When they got to the commander’s office, Velan’s adjutant said, “Go ahead in.”

  Cade opened the door, but Velan wasn’t in evidence. “Sir?” he said, wondering if the commander might be under the desk looking for something he’d dropped.

  “It’s all right,” said the adjutant. “He’ll be right back.”

  Cade took up a position in front of Velan’s desk. How much trouble could he possibly be in? He had killed the Ursa, for God’s sake. He had saved Gwynn’s life. He hadn’t followed orders precisely, but—

  Finally, Velan came in. “Ranger.”

  Cade turned to his superior. “Commander.”

  Velan walked past him and sat down behind his desk. He didn’t look happy. But as far as Cade could tell, the guy never looked happy. “At ease, Ranger.”

  Cade assumed the more relaxed position.

  “There’s something I should have shared with you a long time ago,” Velan said, “when I first offered you a place with the Rangers. If I had, we might have avoided some difficulties.”

  Cade just stood there and listened.

  “Ghosts are critical to our efforts to eliminate the Ursa, no question. But so is every Ranger. Everyone has a contribution to make. Some people are capable of learning that lesson. Others are not.”

  Cade didn’t quite get where the commander was going with this. Is he talking about what happened at the training facility?

  Velan looked at him a moment longer. Then he said, “I made a mistake. You weren’t meant to be part of a Ranger squad.”

  What? Cade thought.

  The words didn’t seem real. They couldn’t be. After everything he had been through? After everything he had accomplished?

  No, he thought. Just that: No.

  “Permission to speak freely, sir?” he snapped.

  “Granted,” Velan said.

  Cade pointed to the commander. “That’s the biggest load of horseshit I’ve ever heard. And if
that’s your final word, you’re not half the Ranger I thought you were.”

  Velan’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a judge of Rangers now?”

  “Damned right I am.”

  “And that’s the way you speak to a superior?”

  “You gave me permission, remember?”

  The commander frowned. “So I did.”

  “And as long as I’ve got that permission, I’m going to tell you what—”

  Velan held up a hand. “Hold on, Bellamy.”

  “Or what?”

  “Or you’re going to miss the rest of what I was going to say.” He cleared his throat. “As I noted, you weren’t meant to be part of a Ranger squad. You were meant to lead one.”

  Cade straightened up. Lead …?

  “Well?” asked Velan. “No comment? No thank you, sir?”

  Cade grinned. “Um … thank you, sir.”

  The commander nodded. “It’s my pleasure, Ranger. And I mean that as sincerely as I’ve ever meant anything in my life.” He held out his hand and opened it to reveal an insignia, the kind squad leaders wore. “This is yours.”

  Cade took it. “I didn’t expect this. I …”

  Velan made a face. “Is this going to be a long speech, Bellamy? Because I’ve still got things to do today.”

  Cade shook his head. “No, sir. Not long at all. Again, thank you, sir.” As he left Velan’s office, he could think of only one thing:

  How proud Nava would have been of him. How very, very proud.