Warden's Vengeance

by Tony James Slater

  She ignored him, squinting through the narrow opening in the doors. Was Evie lying in wait out there? Or in the corridor beyond? Or did she have some other trick up her frustratingly-armoured sleeve?

  What’s that? Tris’ thought was laced with tension.

  Kyra strained to hear above the crackling of the torch. Was that a scratching coming from somewhere? She backed up unconsciously, putting as much distance as possible between her weapon’s muzzle and the door.

  Without warning, a white-hot blade stabbed through the wall behind them.

  She jumped, startled, as Tris spun to look.

  She’s coming in the back! Kyra flung at him. Run!

  The screeching sound drowned out all other noise as Evie chopped through the wall behind them in a few short strokes. The edges of the cut metal popped and sizzled. Kyra shoved Tris through the gap in the door and squeezed after, bringing the pulse rifle through last. They regrouped in the corridor, training their weapons back on the entrance to the armoury. The urge to empty a powerpack straight into the black hole was strong, but Kyra managed to resist. That was a rookie mistake; no way Evie would come charging headlong into their guns.

  And she didn’t.

  The echo of tormented steel ebbed away, leaving them in silence once again.

  Take left! Kyra ordered, spinning to put her back to Tristan’s.

  Her injured leg complained; it couldn’t take much more of this. She was tiring fast, suffering the death of a thousand cuts — most likely Evie’s plan from the start. In the few short minutes since Askarra awakened her, Kyra had experienced more fear than she had in decades. Isolated, in pain, hopeless…

  It was exactly how a sadistic bitch like Evie would want her to die.

  Unfortunately, she couldn’t think of any way to turn the tables.

  Shit! This is why I let Kreon do the strategy. I’m much happier just decapitating people.

  She hadn’t realised the thought had leaked out until Tris responded to it. What would Kreon do?

  She shrugged. Stand and fight, probably. But he’s a lot less worried about losing limbs than I am.

  Tris was scanning the semi-darkness of the corridor, keeping their mental link wide open. The bridge? Maybe we can get the power back on from there.

  Kyra shook her head. I can’t. Can you?

  Not unless there’s a big red button labelled ‘ON’.

  Kyra hissed through her teeth. There were no good options. The bridge is a bad place to start a firefight. We might damage something vital.

  Shuttle bay then? Surely there’s one still working?

  Won’t matter. We can’t open the space doors.

  Kreon’s treasures? There could be something we could use?

  Hell no! There’s worse things in there than one scrawny assassin.

  What then?

  If you’d shut up for a second, I’m thinking!

  But she never got to finish that thought.

  A ceiling panel dropped away, hitting the deck with a clang. As Kyra turned towards the noise Evie dropped from the roof, landing on top of her and bringing her to the deck.

  The assassin grinned, taking a moment to appreciate her victim’s helplessness. Those incandescent blades came up — built into mechanical arms, Kyra had time to notice. Even from this distance, their heat scorched her face.

  Tris reacted instantly, swinging his rifle like a baseball bat. Evie was faster; her blade took the blow, shearing off the stock, leaving him holding a useless lump of metal.

  The distraction was just enough, though. Kyra managed to grab the hilts of her Arranozapar, sending them the mental command to uncoil. Being pinned to the ground hindered their release, and lost her a good bit of skin; even though the blades turned dull when she wore them, getting them free still cost blood and time.

  Evie recognised the danger and vaulted backwards, executing a perfect somersault. She landed lightly, almost as though to prove how far she outclassed them, and struck a sultry pose. “Ah, the little ragamuffin. Source of all our woes. You do realise, don’t you, that you’ve killed my sister?”

  Kyra scrambled to her feet. In the light from Tris’ discarded torch she could see her pulse rifle, but she couldn’t reach it. She glanced at Tris; the boy was unarmed now, brandishing the remains of his rifle like a club.

  Evie ranted on, the taunting in her tone replaced by venom. “Whatever you think you feel for Ella, she was my family. My blood! And you’ve used her up like a cheap whore. When they come for her, and it will be soon, they’ll take their time. She’ll experience more pain than you have ever imagined! And all because you couldn’t keep your filthy puppy-paws off her!” she was furious now, her gaze fixed on Tris, her blades distorting the air around them. “Because of you, we’ll never be together again. And for that, I’ll enjoy killing you even more than the princess.”

  13

  Àurea’s flails were already spinning up as the crystalline being advanced.

  The sound it made was like breaking glass, but there was nothing fragile about its appearance.

  Her parents backed up, spreading out to give themselves room to manoeuvre. Mother was first to open up — she’d always been a shoot-first-ask-questions-later person. Her blaster was a high-powered model Àurea wasn’t familiar with, but it didn’t make any difference — the blasts either ricocheted off the multi-faceted crystal, or seemed to be absorbed by it. Millions of tiny filaments embedded beneath its surface came alive when a bolt struck it dead on, seeming to wick the power away for its own purposes.

  But nothing was indestructible.

  Moving forward she unleashed her flails, twisting to let the deadly blades wind around her body. As each one flashed out it glanced off the creature, deflected without leaving so much as a mark. Frowning, Àurea redoubled her attack, twining herself into the chains to bring the chains around faster.

  It didn’t work. A few seconds was all it took for her to figure out she wasn’t going to damage this thing — not with the weapons she had on her, anyway.

  Her father had been firing short, controlled bursts, retreating slowly. Now he holstered the pistols, taking up his staff. She didn’t know what the dull metal orb on the end was capable of; she’d hadn’t seen him in combat since the days of her apprenticeship. But her mother glanced over and beckoned her to move behind him.

  That rankled. Hunting Gerian was supposed to be her mission. The idea that, after everything she’d been through, her father could simply step in and save the day, drove her wild.

  Then again, she was fresh out of options. The translucent alien’s movements were slow, jerky, as Gerian sat frowning into the controlling headpiece, but they were inexorable.

  “Fall back,” Kreon called out.

  Àurea was a heartbeat away from telling him she didn’t take his orders, when she saw her mother obeying. That was the scariest thing; if the legendary Lady Serafine deemed this foe too difficult to face, then the situation was dire indeed.

  She danced a few steps towards the door they’d entered by, pausing to send her flails flying out at what she hoped were vulnerable areas. Joints, appendages, the more transparent sections of the torso where glowing yellow lights could be seen within; none of these targets succumbed to her attack. She growled in frustration, letting the flails swing to a stop as she moved in behind her father.

  The alien was nearly upon him, reaching out with those three-clawed hands, when Kreon struck.

  Leaping forward, he brought his staff crashing into the creature.

  The force of the blow was immense. The alien staggered back, as a shockwave rolled out from the impact. Àurea’s ears popped, and her eyes went wide. He’s done it!

  But no. The crystal being righted itself after a few moments, and came forward again. She could scarce believe it; there was no discernible damage from the staff blow. Not a dent, not a crack, not a single facet blunted or dinged.

  This thing is indestructible, she corrected herself.

  Which meant they h
ad to go.

  “Back!” she yelled. “Back to the Portal!”

  Her mother was already moving, reaching out to shove her through the doorway. Kreon stood his ground, staff poised for another strike.

  Àurea gave him a stern look, but he didn’t turn to see it. Then she was back in the corridor leading to the computer lab. Her mother was beside her, half dragging her back the way they’d come. Àurea was appalled; only minutes ago they’d entered this place, assured of their vengeance. Now they were fleeing for their lives, from something she’d never even heard of.

  What the hell is that thing?

  Halfway through the computer lab she turned to look back. Her father had edged through the corridor, giving ground as slowly as possible. Buying us time to escape.

  She watched for a few seconds, and sure enough the blue alien came on, its claws grasping. Kreon took a swing at one, smashing it aside; the momentum half-turned the alien, but it righted itself more quickly this time. Its movements were more fluid, more natural.

  Gerian’s getting used to the controls.

  Which could only be bad news.

  At her mother’s urging she moved off through the lab. The antechamber with the Portal in it was now only moments away, but the gap between them and her father had widened. The old man was putting every effort into slowing the creature, blow after blow from his staff ringing against the impossibly tough crystal. But it was a battle he could never win, and his position suddenly looked far more precarious.

  “Wait!” Àurea called out. “Wait for him!”

  For a reply, her mother grabbed her by the arm and shoved her towards the Portal room. “He can’t break off until we’re out,” she hissed. “Now go!”

  For once, Àurea did as she was told.

  The Portal was exactly where they’d left it, still swirling with inky malevolence. She braced herself for the trip through, but hesitated. Her father was still back there. Could she really go through, leaving him to fend for himself?

  “There’s nothing either of us can do here,” Sera confessed. Coming from her it was not a platitude but a statement of fact. “We need more firepower.”

  “Firepower? That thing is invulnerable. I can’t imagine anything that could stop it, short of a battleship’s turbolaser.”

  “We’ll solve that problem when it arises.” Sera steered her towards the Portal. “I’m right behind you, and your father is right behind us.”

  As if on cue, a sound like the crack of a bullet rang out from behind them; Kreon striking another powerful blow. A second later he cried out in pain. Àurea’s heart stopped in her chest. She couldn’t ever remember hearing that sound. “Papa!” She yelled. She hadn’t called him that since she was ten. “Papa? Are you okay?”

  He shouted something in reply, his voice strained and muffled by the walls of the lab.

  “What?” Sera called back. “We’re almost through!”

  “Destroy it!” he roared, and there was no mistaking the finality of his tone. “We can’t let this thing get through!”

  “What?” Àurea shot her mother a questioning glance. “He’s not serious!”

  But her mother merely muttered a curse.

  “Mum? He’s not… we’re waiting for him, right?”

  Sera looked at her for a long moment, then gazed back towards the computer lab. “Do what your father said.”

  “No!” Àurea shrugged her flails off her shoulders and took a step back towards the fight.

  But Sera was faster. Grabbing her by the shoulder she spun her around, and propelled her into the Portal.

  Cold assailed her instantly. Her flesh, mostly bare beneath the flimsy lab suit, prickled as icy fingers crawled over her. The sense of evil, of all-pervading malice, was so strong she could hardly breathe.

  And then she was through, stumbling out onto the carpet of Gerian’s private office.

  Miren was still on guard, and she was clearly startled by the arrival of a white-clad figure. Àurea put a hand out before she could attack, and Miren relaxed.

  Sera came through next, graceful enough to avoid blundering into her daughter.

  Àurea rounded on her, face flushed with anger. “We’ve got to go back for him!”

  “No,” Sera decreed flatly. “When I left, they were already entering the room. That thing had its claws in him. If he doesn’t come through in the next minute, we must destroy that Portal.”

  “We can’t! We can’t leave him!”

  Her mother regarded her coolly — the detachment of battle, she recognised, where every moment could cost the life of a friend or comrade. But not my father!

  “He made his choice,” Sera said. “And he gave us an order. Sacrifice always was his fixation.” Her tone softened. “It’s time.”

  “No! I won’t do it!”

  “You won’t have to.” And sweeping Àurea aside she took out her powerful little pistol. Her first shot sizzled against the Portal’s frame; her second blew a chunk out of it, causing sparks to fly as the swirling darkness died. Her third, aimed dead-centre, blew the mirror-like surface to fragments.

  Àurea fell to her knees as pangs of loss tore through her. Such a short time ago they’d been invincible, the consummate team she’d always known her family could be. But now…

  “Now we flee,” Sera said, her voice still maddeningly calm.

  Àurea squeezed her eyes shut against the pain, but forced herself to her feet. She’d been through this emotion again and again over the years, and it never got any easier. But she had long since learned to keep moving in spite of it, lest one unfortunate death lead to others.

  “We could have waited,” she spat, the childish urge to lash out at her mother impossible to resist.

  “We did. You can hate me for now, child. But his primary directive in all of this was to keep you safe. And that is a mission I will not fail in.”

  Àurea’s shoulders shook and tears stung her cheeks, but she took the miniature bomb her mother gave her and planted it beneath the console on the far wall. They’d destroyed Gerian’s means of return; now they would leave him nothing to return to. There was a certain satisfaction in that.

  The Portal in the other cabinet had also ceased swirling, the blackness beyond it settling into a flat, depthless sheen. Àurea wondered if the two were linked somehow, and if by abandoning her husband Sera had damned them all. But Miren teased it back to life with one of the holy relics from Gerian’s safe, the presence of the desiccated object sufficient to activate the gateway. Àurea’s fourth trip through a portal in less than an hour was the most unsettling of all. It was as though whatever malicious entity inhabited the space was waiting for her, reaching out to paw at her with tendrils of ice. It craved her, she felt; it hungered.

  At any other time, it would have been terrifying.

  Right now, it just pissed her off.

  She crossed back into the real world ready for a fight.

  Which was fortunate, as two of Gerian’s household guards were waiting for them.

  Miren had gone through first, and her entrance must have surprised the men. But their confusion hadn’t lasted long; by the time Àurea stepped through, the entertainer was curled up on the floor clutching a blaster-wound in her stomach.

  Àurea didn’t hesitate. These men, though not an integral part of the Church’s murderous regime, were thugs that benefitted from it. Her flails swung out, the momentum behind them not sufficient for anything fancy. She took the closest man’s hand off at the wrist, disarming him, then spun her body to imbue the second flail with more impetus. The powered blade sliced through the second man’s neck, killing him instantly. His body was still upright, blood starting to well from the wound, when her second flail swung around to finish off the first guard.

  Neither man had had time to scream.

  When her mother stepped through the Portal, Àurea was already kneeling beside Miren to check her injuries.

  They were severe. Miren would die without medical attention; the case
of the relic she’d been carrying had absorbed some of the shot’s energy, otherwise there’d be a hole right through the middle of her. But the situation couldn’t have been worse. Their ruse must have been discovered more quickly than anticipated, for the guards to be investigating such a private room already.

  “There will be more outside,” Sera predicted.

  Àurea nodded.

  “I’ll find out.”

  Àurea clamped one hand around Miren’s blood-stained fingers and watched her mother go to the door. She readied her pistol, opened it and ducked out into the corridor. She fired twice before throwing a glance over her shoulder and dodging back into the room. She slammed the door, but had no authorisation over its locking controls.

  “Trouble?” Àurea asked.

  “A squad at the far end of the corridor. There’s no cover out there, so they’ll advance cautiously, but they’ll be coming. The other direction, towards the docking bay, only two — but they’ll have orders to stay there.”

  “We’re pinned down?”

  Her mother’s eyes were hard. “For now. Can she be moved?”

  Àurea looked doubtfully at Miren. “I think it will kill her.”

  The girl moaned, then gazed up at Àurea. “Do it. You can’t get out without me. I knew this trip was… uhhh…” she winced in pain. “…one way.”

  Àurea tore the pouches on the dead guard’s belt open until she found the man’s injury kit. Gerian paid for the best, at least; a single-use Wound-Block applicator took up half the pouch. Snapping the seal, she pressed the nozzle against Miren’s stomach and squeezed. The gel would be dispensed right inside the wound, expanding and solidifying to limit bleeding. It only took seconds, and was the best they could expect for now.

  “Wayfinder’s med-bay is state of the art,” she promised.

  Miren grinned up at her through the pain. “Then I hope you… parked real close!”

  With the injured girl draped over her shoulder, Àurea gave her mother a desperate look. “I hope this works.”

  Sera held a microscopic detonator between the pads of her thumb and forefinger. “It will. If that room is even in this building. And not so close that we are caught in the initial blast.”