by O. J. Lowe
Too old. Too tired. Shouldn’t be doing stuff like this.
He dropped to the chair, all the energy sapped from his limbs. Carry on like this, he wouldn’t have much time left. The world was a dangerous place right now. He glanced down to the battlefield, saw the leopard circling. It had already downed Roper’s garj and now the giant penguin was out.
The world had moved on. It had left him behind. It was no longer one that he recognised, or even one that he’d care to. Frewster knew to himself that he’d had a good run at it, he’d lived far longer than he ever could have dreamed of.
He had one task left. That could well be the end of it all and he’d die happy. Frewster leaned forward, pulled over the recording equipment and started to run his hands over the machinery.
He needed to do this and fast, yet it wasn’t the sort of thing that one could rush. This would be his final testament to the kingdoms and he needed to do it with a clear head. Just in case.
Empson squawked in pride, bent his body forward and snapped the beak open, a torrential blast of water erupting from within him. It hit the leopard full on in the face, didn’t faze it at all beyond forcing it back. Angry feline eyes glared at him and the penguin and it leaped, springing forward with preternatural agility, a dozen feet from a standing start. Those claws looked sharp, Empson brought up a steel-lined wing to parry them away, the sound of them scraping against each other made Nick wince. He felt like his ears were about to start bleeding.
They broke apart, the leopard roared angrily, Empson pumped up his chest to try and appear bigger. Didn’t even flinch amidst the onslaught of sound being forced upon him. As the sound died away and the jaws closed, the penguin leaped forward, head bobbing forward to jab-jab-jab his beak into the giant cat’s face. Fur went flying, blood spattered across Empson’s face. Another few inches, it might have hit one of the yellowed eyes. Might still have done so had a huge paw not swept out, batted the penguin back across the arena. Empson hit the hoardings, bounced off and landed beak first in the dirt.
Nick’s expression didn’t change, kept it neutral. He’d already sent Empson in to feel out the creature, try and get some sort of gauge as to its power. So far, he’d worked out that it hit like a wrecking ball and it could move when the mood took it. Saarth had a creature of atrocious power there in front of her. He’d already worked out its breath was poisonous. He’d seen it when it had unleashed the effect onto the crowd, made them sick. At least they were out of the picture. Frewster’s announcement had pulled them out, they’d started to run despite his best attempts in pleading them not to. Saarth had reacted, he’d thrown Empson in to keep her attention away from those that were running.
The penguin rose, puffed up his chest, Nick winced as he realised that it only emphasised the streams of blood pouring down his feathers.
“You can’t win this fight, you know that?” Saarth said, her voice emotionless. “You won’t win. You can’t stand against Mykeltros.”
“You name that bloody thing yourself?” Nick asked. He glanced around the stadium. Most of the lower levels were clear. Some stragglers remained, those that had been poisoned in the initial wav struggled across towards the steps and then fell, one after the other. He forced himself not to look. It wouldn’t do anyone any good. He needed to deal with Saarth and her damn leopard before things got out of hand. The upper levels were still evacuating, but they’d be out of reach of any possible reprisals. Hopefully.
“All names come from the glory of the Mistress in her vision for the future.”
“So, no, you didn’t then?” He grinned to himself, then to Empson, before pushing the button on his summoner. The penguin vanished. “Didn’t think you had the imagination for it, personally.”
“You don’t know me, Mister Roper.” Not Agent. That was interesting, to say the least. Maybe she hadn’t made the connection. There’d been a few that had, following his antics on Carcaradis Island the last time he’d been involved in a situation like this. “I’ve had enough of this world and if I can help her tear it down and build something better…”
“The only thing you’ll be helping in building is an unmarked grave!” Mentally he punched the air. That was fighting talk. That’d do it. He worked the special crystal into his summoner, tried not to think about whom it had belonged to before coming into his possession. It had been in Sharon’s kjarnblade, he’d driven the weapon through the creature’s chest and it had shattered in his hand, the creature contained within the crystal and unable to break free.
Uni appeared in front of him. To fight one of Coppinger’s special creatures, what better to turn to than one of them? The unialiv was his only previous personal experience of combat with these things, he’d claimed it, yet didn’t want to advertise the fact that he had it. Coppinger had unleashed it on her airbase, sent it to kill the invading Unisco agents. Better she thought it lost than to actively start chasing it. The lengths some would go to in effort to try and reclaim what they considered theirs, he didn’t like to think about.
By the look on Saarth’s face, she recognised it. The shock told him that much and it bore more satisfaction than he ever could have imagined. Furless flesh glistened in the sunlight, red-blue muscle tight as Uni stretched out its arms. There was something distinctly ape-like about it, though it and the surang could never be mistaken for close evolutionary cousins.
“You shouldn’t have that!” she said, outrage heavy in her voice. “You shouldn’t! It doesn’t belong to you!”
“Beg to disagree,” Nick said softly. He shrugged his shoulders in dismissal. “You know the laws about possession? Finders keepers, I think you’ll find. My crystal…” Okay, Sharon’s, but whatever. She wasn’t using it. He tried to ignore the pang of pain pushing potently at the pit of his being. “Makes it my spirit. That’s how this works, after all.”
“I’m going to take it back from you! The Mistress will be pleased when I do, maybe she’ll elevate me to her inner circle.”
He tried to keep the weariness out of his smile. So much fighting talk and very little to back it up with. She couldn’t win this, she had to know that. She might have the Mykeltros or whatever it was called, but she was one woman in a stadium, alone with no backup, no reinforcements…
Shit!
He’d seen the videocams up around the stadium. Only now did he find the full realisation starting to dawn on him. He’d known they’d be recording, beaming the pictures out around the kingdoms. Maybe that had been her plan. Stall him and Frewster here long enough until Coppinger reinforcements could arrive. The other side to that was Unisco surely had to have seen it and be on their way.
Either way, all he could do was hold out. He had to. Whatever happened, he needed to deal with it. His was the only performance he could affect.
“You want it?” he asked. “Come and get it.”
The leopard tensed its legs, he saw it getting ready to move, he made his choices. He had the advantage in that nobody really knew what Uni could do, only that the creature was off-putting with its three slit-like eyes, four ear-antenna and lack of mouth.
Mykeltros came, charged across the ground, paws tearing into the dirt. Uni didn’t hesitate, brought back a fist and drove it hard into the leopard’s face, a bellow breaking up over the sound of bone smashing. He gave the order not to let up, the unialiv brought a spine-covered leg up into the ruined face, spikes tearing through fur and flesh. The maw opened, giant teeth came tearing towards Uni, ready to bite down.
They didn’t come close to landing, Uni’s eyes started to glow at Nick’s behest, the fangs coming to a halt inches from Uni’s body. Telekinetic powers, Nick thought with a grin. Had to love them. Better that something like this was in his possession rather than being with Claudia Coppinger.
The glow spread out from the eyes, washed across the glistening skin until Uni was completely covered by it. Slowly, the creature took one step forward and then rose into the air, hovering several feet above the ground. The size difference between
the two creatures was noticeable, Mykeltros had size and bulk, but it didn’t count for much if they couldn’t land a hit. With every inch Uni moved forward, Mykeltros was forced back and back, paws scrabbling impotently at the floor of the battlefield. The leopard roared its displeasure, tried to battle back against the oncoming invisible force, couldn’t do anything to fight against it.
The change came when Uni dropped the barrier, caller and spirit watched as Mykeltros fell forward, unable to hold its own weight up. Uni hadn’t stopped moving, thrust forward through the air like a blaster bolt before crashing down hard into the fallen leopard’s spine, a brutal crack echoing around the arena. He didn’t even wince, couldn’t bring himself to. Very few things that had a spine enjoyed taking blows like that. Mykeltros’ eyes went wide, the fight slipping out of it in an instant.
He wasn’t finished. Crippled wasn’t the same as dead. Uni was in motion again, reached out for the limp tail. He could hear engines in the distance, hoped that it wasn’t more hostiles. Uni had to take both hands to the tail, muscular flesh tensing as it sized up the task in hand. Limp front paws tried to scrabble at it, claws extended but kissing empty air. If Uni was bothered, the expressionless face didn’t show it. The only real thing he could see there was determination.
Mykeltros probably weighed ten times as much as Uni did, he couldn’t see that little fact doing anything to stop the unialiv from the display of strength. First the leopard tried to fight, dug front claws into the dirt until it realised it was still being pulled regardless. By the time it left the ground, it was already too late for it, back legs waving uselessly as it hit the front row of seating and didn’t get back up. Probably couldn’t. The engines in the sky were getting closer, no time to worry about that now. He needed to take the thing down as fast as possible, so as not to get caught against two potential enemies.
They were so close now, Uni had rushed up into the stands at his behest, hovering above Mykeltros’ head. Nick nodded, tipped his spirit the sign and smiled despite himself as Uni drove down, smashed its weight into the leopard’s head, driving it hard into the solid flooring of the stands. A broken yowl fell from Mykeltros, the sound apparently only encouraging Uni who drove a fist into one of the saucer-sized eyes. The pop as it pulled the its clenched fist free of the membrane was a sound Nick wouldn’t forget any time soon.
In a flash, he had his blaster out. Uni had that well in hand, he realised. The orders were there, not to let up, to make sure that Mykeltros couldn’t interfere. He got the impression its interfering days were over for a good while now with the way Uni rained punches down on it, smashing the ruined face even further into the ground.
“Weronika Saarth, you are under arrest!” he shouted. “Under the powers invested in me by the Senate of the Five Kingdoms as an agent of Unisco, I command you to surrender now or suffer the consequences. You’re a known Coppinger sympathiser, you’re in big trouble for conspiring to commit murder using your spirits, as well as…” He glanced around the arena, saw the dying bodies in the front rows and felt his heart fall.” “Multiple counts of murder. Lie face down on the ground or I will open fire.”
He never got the chance to pull the trigger, he heard the distant pop, saw the expression on Saarth’s face change as the scarlet flower started to bloom at her breast. She went down in stages, fell first to her knees, then forward face-first unmoving, not a sound escaping her. Good. He hated those who died noisily. So undignified.
An aeroship was hovering above them, rappel lines tossed down over the side. Already there were people on those lines, unmarked equipment and very much not that of Unisco. The ship itself was unmarked, that usually meant it had no real right of being there. He saw gunmen hanging from the sides, weapons pointed into the stadium, smoke still emerging from the barrel of one rifle where the shooter had pulled the trigger on Saarth. He didn’t feel pity for her, couldn’t bring himself to feel that way.
“Uni!” he shouted, giving the mental orders. Mykeltros wasn’t getting back up, though the caller might if she was granted the mercy of immediate medical attention rather than being left to bleed out. “Get the ship, now!”
Someone was shooting at him, they’d hit Saarth and the second and third shots peppered the ground at his feet. He leaped backwards, turned and made a run for the tunnel. Uni had left the confines of the stand, rocketing into the air on collision course for the aeroship. His very own surface to air missile, he almost pitied the people aboard when Uni tore through them. He should have done this with the aeroship at Frewster’s mansion, now he thought about it. The ear-splitting crash that accompanied the thought a second later was vindication, he picked up his pace and made a run for the tunnel. The blaster was still in his hand, the two rappelers falling the last few feet. Nick raised the weapon, blasted a hole through the head of the first while he had the shot, watched him fall to the ground before lining up on his companion.
The second one hit the stadium floor, rolled out the way of the shot that cracked impotently into the spot where his face had been seconds earlier. His rifle came up, Nick flung himself out the way as it spat crimson fire in his direction. Not the most dignified of landing, but screw that, he’d not been hit. As a pilot he knew once had said, any impact you walked away from was a good one. He wasn’t going to miss a second time, not from this distance. His blaster sneezed, he watched the head snap back. No satisfaction. He should have nailed him at the first attempt.
Divines, what a clusterfuck this whole thing had turned out to be. At least it was over now. Uni landed next to him, the three-eyed expression something akin to pride. The aeroship had gone down in halves, hit one of the stands, but so far hadn’t exploded. The flames would take it soon, licking merrily at the metal frame protruding pointedly into the air, its engines sputtering into death. Emergency response teams had to be on their way. They’d take it from here. Uni hadn’t even struggled to deal with it, just flown through and smashed it into two giant pieces, watched them fall out of the sky under their own weight.
Spirits should not have that much power. It terrified him, just a little. And Coppinger had made how many more of them? One for him. One for the late Weronika Saarth. The one who’d wiped the team out in the labs. Too damn many.
That was a problem for another day. For now, it was over.
Nick turned, saw Frewster stood behind him, a look of surprise on his face. Red stains were starting to ripple across his chest, kisses staining his shirt.
“No!”
Oh, fuck no! No, no, no!
He ran towards Frewster, just too late to catch him as the old man sagged to the ground. Cradling him in his arms, he realised just how weightless he felt as the life gushed out of him. Nick was sure he’d never been that pale before now, his skin almost translucent with the stresses of age, his breathing heavy and laboured. Gradually they were becoming less frequent, he could hear that. Every movement brought fresh gouts rupturing from him, his expression beyond pain.
He should go get Ramsey, the doctor could treat him better than Nick could. He made to rise to his feet, a withered hand almost claw-like grabbing at his wrist.
“I know where you’re going,” Frewster said. “Don’t. It’s too late for me, dear boy.”
“What sort of talk’s that?” Nick asked, rocking back on his heels. He let out a sigh of disgust. “Brennan, you can’t give up now. We can fix this.”
“You could,” the old man chuckled. He sounded like he was slipping away already, very little left in his tank. Tears dribbled down his cheek, leaking from the corners of his eyes. Blood was gushing from his wounds, Nick reached down and pressed his hand to it, desperate to slow it until he could find something more appropriate for the situation. “But I don’t want that. I’ve had enough, Nicholas. My life has been grand, the best I could have hoped for and sometimes you have to say enough is enough. These wounds are mortal, I know that.”
“Don’t talk, you gnarly old bastard, save your strength.”
Frewster hack
ed a laugh, spat up fresh blood. “That’s fight. You’ll need that, Nicholas. What sort of life will I have left even if they fix me up? None I’d want to experience, I’m broken now.” He reached up to Nick’s hand, the one that wasn’t pressed against his gushing wounds, pressed something small and hard into his grasp. “Consider that your answers. Everything I need to tell the world. Make sure the story is heard.” His eyes were sliding shut, he could barely keep them open. His breathing slowed, came out pained and broken. “They might not believe. But they need to. If they don’t, it’ll spell doom for us all.”
He didn’t say anything else. With that, Brennan Frewster, the last founding member of Unisco was gone. Everything he might have been in life ceased. Nick didn’t say anything. Just stayed there, held him for a few moments longer. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything more.
Finally, he looked at the item Frewster had passed to him, small, plastic and rectangular. A memory drive, an older model but still one that would suffice in most modern equipment. Stuff like this, they built to last, none of that replace it every year shit they tried pushing on consumers these days. It was slick with blood, he reached down and wiped it against the old man’s trousers. In death, he looked small and weak, his face losing everything that had made him such a remarkable man. The spark had gone, nobody would have recognised him now.
“Sorry,” he said. “So bloody sorry!”
The sirens were getting closer now, the fires up in the stand burning merrily away. The Mykeltros still lay in the stands, skull caved in at Uni’s hands. He let Frewster go gently, stood up and strode over to Saarth. She was still alive, but barely. With medical attention, she’d survive. Probably. Nick had seen people in worse conditions pull through.
Why should she?
He looked at the blaster in his belt, slid it free and pointed it at her prone form. Why should she get the chance to pull through? They could talk all they liked about trials and intelligence and wanting to prove that the system worked. She didn’t deserve to live. She knew what she’d signed up for. She’d joined Coppinger and killed in her name. Why should she live when Frewster had died?
