by Richard Fox
The Iron Hearts’ gauss cannons slammed into the bridge, taking the armor down with them. The cannons twisted away from Malal and slid across the surface, pulling the Iron Hearts along like they were fish caught on a line.
Malal’s body dimmed as he descended to the bridge. Bloodless cuts peppered his body. An open bullet hole in his chest was so large Standish could see straight through the ancient being. Malal looked at the wound, then glared at Bailey.
“I ain’t sorry, mate,” she said.
Malal’s body morphed around the hole and the cuts. His body became pristine moments later. He pointed at Torni, still writhing in pain. Standish got between Torni and Malal.
“I will help it,” he said. “Do not interfere.”
“What’s happening to her?” Standish asked.
“The walker was badly damaged. I managed to hack into its programming and activate the Xaros self-destruct protocols. The order reached this drone. Its body is trying to burn away. Move,” Malal said.
Standish hesitated then stepped aside.
“I am plumb out of ideas, Sarge,” Standish said.
Malal floated to Torni, his toes scraping the bridge. The slap of stalks against his head and shoulders had no effect on him as he pressed his hands against her shell. The drone went dead, as if Malal had flipped an off switch. Malal ran his touch over the surface.
“I remember this one,” he said. “Anthalas. Then with the burning souls.”
The stalks retracted into the shell. Wild patters pulsated across Torni’s surface away from Malal’s touch. He stepped back and the drone twisted into a corkscrew.
“Omnium,” Malal said, “the Xaros make their drones from it. They remain malleable, enough to adapt and combine to counter their enemies. Her mind is better suited to this.”
Torni’s shape spread into an X. Limbs clad in Strike Marine powered armor morphed into being. A head rose out of the center mass and formed into Torni’s face. A ripple passed through her body. Torni, formed just like Standish remembered from the last time he saw her on Anthalas, collapsed to the bridge. Her body still had the shifting grey color of the Xaros drones, like she was an unpainted model of her old self.
Standish went to her and touched the back of her head. Her body was stiff, solid as a statue.
“Sarge? You’re…back?” Standish asked.
Torni looked at the Marine, her expression blank. Her mouth moved slowly, soundlessly.
“You do not have lungs,” Malal said. “Nor vocal cords. Here,” he said, pressing a thumb against her forehead.
“Get away from me!” Torni slapped Malal’s hand away, the clash of metal on metal sounding from the impact.
“Malal!” Lieutenant Hale ran up to the group. Stacey, a few steps behind him, was carrying the governor. Hale got a good look at Torni and skidded to a stop.
“What the…Torni?”
“It’s her, sir,” Standish said. “Swear to God. She said she died, kind of, on Takeni. The Xaros had her memories…in a jar. Then she was a drone, helping us. Now she’s herself again. And…it’s going to get even weirder. Trust me on this.”
“Shut up, Standish,” Torni said.
Standish jabbed a finger at Torni.
“See! It’s got to be her!”
“Hale…” Stacey nudged him with her elbow. “Malal.”
“Spare me from your useless posturing.” Malal held up a hand and the governor leaped out of Stacey’s hands. It came to a stop in front of his chest. Malal ran his fingers over the device.
“I could crush you all with a thought. Ignite the oxygen in your blood and reduce you all to ashes.” The governor pressed into Malal’s chest. “But we have a bargain, don’t we? I have honored my end.” He looked at Stacey. “You will honor yours.”
Stacey looked at her forearm screen and nodded. “He’s back under our control.”
“Shall we depart?” Malal asked. “There is nothing more for us here.”
“Egan, Bailey, go help Yarrow move the wounded,” Hale said. He walked to Torni, staying well beyond arm’s length as she got to her feet. She stared intently at her hands as patterns danced over the surface.
“This is hard to believe,” he said.
“Sir, do you remember the Qa’Resh? When they took that thing out of Yarrow?” Torni asked. Her voice was just as Hale remembered.
“I do.”
“They took that memory from me. The Xaros found a way to get it back. They know. They know everything, sir. I helped…Minder told me it would save the Earth. But it was a lie, all of it,” she said.
“Torni, or whatever you are, we’ll get this sorted out later. Right now, I need to get my Marines out of this place and back to the Breitenfeld,” Hale said.
“What do you mean, they know everything?” Stacey asked.
“They know we have the Crucible, that it’s unfinished. They made me go back to Qa’Resh’Ta, look at the sky and count the suns for them. They know about…it.” She pointed at Malal. “They’re afraid of it.”
“If the Xaros saw the sky over Qa’Resh’Ta…they might find it. She’s led them straight to Bastion,” Stacey said, her face going white.
“You need to arrest me, sir,” Torni said. “You need to arrest me for treason.”
****
Elias took point as the team made its way, back down the bridge. Bodel was in his tracked configuration, the wounded Orozco and Cortaro strapped to him. Kallen brought up the rear.
“We can’t let Malal leave here,” Kallen said over an IR channel closed off to all but the Iron Hearts. “You saw what it could do when Stacey let him slip off the leash.”
“We need him to get the rest of us out of here,” Elias said. “Wait until we’re back on the ship.”
“And then?” Bodel asked.
“We crack the governor in his chest. That should destroy him,” Elias said.
“Or let him free again,” Kallen said.
“Stacey has a kill switch. Can we access it if she won’t cooperate?” Bodel asked.
“Tiny buttons on her screen.” Kallen’s hands flexed. “Big fingers.”
“What about Hale? He’s not the kind to go along with whatever they promised Malal to get him to cooperate. What do you think it was? All the proccies he could ever want? A planet full of primitives?” Bodel asked.
“Elias and I were with him on Europa when he told the Toth to pound sand instead of signing over the proccies,” Kallen said. “There’s no way he’s with the Ibarras on this.”
“Hale…maybe,” Elias said. “Stay frosty. I’ll see what he can do for us.”
Targeting data flashed on Elias’ HUD, an infrared picture of the Marines. The thing claiming to be Torni was uniformly cool, her body heat matching the ambient temperature, like she was a long-dead corpse.
“The drone?” Bodel asked.
“It claims to be Torni,” Kallen said. “Bad enough to have Malal with us, now a Xaros turncoat?”
“I owe Torni,” Elias said. “Not her shade. That thing steps out of line…our cannons will work on it.”
“I miss the old days,” Bodel said. “See the Chinese army. Shoot the Chinese army. Reload. Now…I don’t even know what to think.”
****
A wide archway stretched from one side of the bridge to the other. The alabaster doorway was sealed shut.
Malal touched the door and cocked his head to the side after a moment.
“What’s wrong?” Hale asked. “This will lead us back to the forest we came from, right?”
“The Jinn,” Malal said with a snarl, “one of them is trying to rearrange my vault. Time for a lesson.” Malal’s arm plunged into the doorway. He yanked it out and tossed a crystal onto the bridge.
The crystal popped into the air and the ghostly form of Father materialized around it.
“Hear me!” Father shouted, backing away from Torni as the Marines raised their weapons.
“We know this one,” Elias said. “It was helpful.”
Hale held up a fist and weapons lowered slightly.
“Before the Xaros destroys my light, hear me,” Father said. “The demon is an enemy to all life. We showed the truth to the Iron Hearts. Do not silence the galaxy again.”
“Give me a moment’s freedom,” Malal said. “I will burn away the Jinn infection from my vault. Save us the trouble of dealing with them ever again.”
“She’s not going to hurt you.” Hale pointed at Torni. “We need Malal to fight the Xaros, you understand? The Xaros know about you now. They’ll be back. Might take them hundreds of years, but they will return to finish you off. We have a chance to beat the Xaros now, but only if we have Malal’s help.”
“They are artificial, of no value to me or you. Let me destroy them,” Malal said. “We leave them here and they will metastasize into a threat equal to the Xaros.”
“One war at a time,” Hale said.
“The price!” Father’s form shook with static. “The Jinn will not trade one innocent life to preserve their own existence!”
“If we don’t stop the Xaros, then everyone will die!” Hale advanced on Father. “You get that? The whole galaxy will be wiped clean. All life, innocent or not, will be gone. Now get out of our way or I will let Malal finish you off.”
Father didn’t respond. On Hale’s visor, the IR on Elias’ icon lit up with an open IR line…that didn’t connect to anyone else on the team. Father’s form shrank into the crystal, then took off like a shot over the side of the bridge.
The archway opened up and revealed the tunnel with their waiting Mule.
“Good job, Hale,” Stacey said. “You should come take my spot on Bastion some time. You’re better at convincing aliens than I am.”
“Everyone get on board,” Hale said. “I’m sick of this place.” He looked to Elias and was about to open a channel when Egan tapped him on the shoulder.
“Orozco’s still woozy from the concussion. Can you co-pilot?” Egan asked.
“I’ve done that exactly once before,” Hale said.
“More times than anyone else on the team.”
“Get started on the pre-flight. I’ll join you in the cockpit,” Hale said.
“Sir,” Cortaro nodded at Torni, “what about…her?”
“If that is her, I won’t risk leaving her behind again,” Hale said. “Get her on board, but keep your weapon ready.”
CHAPTER 18
Shutters on the apartment windows rose and blazing sunlight flooded the bedroom. A man sprawled out on the disheveled bed jerked awake. His hand came up from under a pillow, pistol in hand.
Knight blinked hard and snapped to his feet.
“What the hell? What time is it?” he asked.
“Local time is 4:15 p.m.,” chirped the slate on a dresser.
He’d just returned from the shipyards on Mars, his internal clock forever out of whack as Ibarra sent him on one assignment to another after his departure from the Breitenfeld. He was originally assigned to the ship to keep a close eye on Stacey Ibarra. After she moved on to Bastion, Ibarra kept Knight on the carrier as his eyes and ears.
Exposing Captain Valdar’s participation in the True Born movement meant Knight had to move on. Valdar wouldn’t accept a commissar-like presence aboard his ship, and staying on the Breitenfeld would probably have ended with an “unforeseen incident” ending Knight’s life.
He hadn’t minded the Breitenfeld—at least there was a routine to keep him occupied.
There were two knocks on his door, a pause, then three more knocks in a staggered procession. Shannon was here, her knock code signaling she was safe.
“Hold on.” Knight threw on some clothes, blaming the stiffness in his body on the lousy bed and not his advancing age. He kept his weapon in hand as he looked through the peephole and saw only Shannon outside his room. He’d worked with her for decades, first in the CIA, then in Ibarra’s employ after the particular nature of their service to the country went out of fashion with an administration averse to assassinations and enhanced interrogations.
He opened the door and she strode in like she owned the place, a cardboard carry box of doughnuts and coffee in hand.
“This is odd,” Knight said. He took a sip of coffee and flopped down onto an easy chair.
“Boss wants us,” she said. “Not sure what for.”
“Christ, I just got dirtside and now we have to go up to that damned Crucible? He knows how creepy that place is.”
“He wants what he wants.” She plucked a doughnut hole out of the box and popped it into her mouth. “But this time,” she mumbled, taking a small black ball from a coat pocket. The ball floated into the air and a holo of Marc Ibarra formed in the air.
“Eric, nice to have you back,” Ibarra said. “Mars nice this time of the year?”
“Same dusty red shithole it’s ever been,” Knight said. “One less bitter True Born saboteur to worry about.”
“Good work, as ever.” Ibarra folded his arms across his chest. “After a long and productive work relationship, I’m afraid it’s time for us to part ways.”
Knight tensed and glanced from his coffee, to Shannon, to the pistol he’d left on the countertop.
“Not that kind of parting, Eric. Sorry, I forget how sensitive you can be with semantics,” Ibarra said.
“I told you to watch your phrasing,” Shannon said with a wink to Knight.
“We have a colony mission in the works,” Ibarra said. “Lovely place far beyond the reach of the Xaros called Terra Nova. The both of you will be on the Christophorous when it leaves.”
“What’s our mission?” Knight asked.
“No mission. Go. Make a life for yourselves. Be…happy.”
“Mr. Ibarra,” Shannon said, scooting to the edge of her seat, “are you OK?”
“I’m a ghost in a machine, my darling, I am hardly OK. The two of you have spent the last four decades working for me, without knowing the true purpose behind my efforts. Such faith…loyalty…should be rewarded,” Ibarra said. “It would not have been possible without the two of you. The fires you put out, leaks plugged, the occasional industrial sabotage. The great effort to save humanity continues, but I can’t tool around in the shadows with you any longer. We’re moving beyond that.”
“So you’re sending us out to pasture?” Shannon asked.
“You make it sound so negative.” Ibarra waved a hand in the air and the Christophorous appeared next to him. “I am a bastard. I know that. The blood of every person that died when the Xaros came is on my hands. I spent my entire adult life and all of this,” he waved a hand over his holo body, “afterlife putting the life and needs of every person on Earth second to the great effort. You two know what I did.
“Now…with you two, the two closer to my crimes than any other, I want you to have some peace. A bit of absolution.”
The two spies didn’t say a word.
“Oh, come on,” Ibarra said. “Strange new world, the final frontier. No more kill orders or covert anything. Just live your lives. Get married. Kids. Grandkids. Not necessarily with each other. There will be a couple other colonists your type. Promise.”
“But—” Shannon said.
“No ‘but’! Is that really so hard to believe?”
“Yes,” Knight deadpanned.
“Spend your whole life being a duplicitous bastard and you see what happens when you try to go legit,” Ibarra said. “No strings or contingencies. You’ve both already won the lottery for a spot. The ship leaves in nine days. Be there or else I will be the vengeful asshole you know and love. Enjoy the doughnuts.”
Ibarra vanished and the ball fell to the carpet.
“You trust him?” Shannon asked.
“Oddly enough, I sort of do.”
“So you’re going?”
“Yeah. I try and fight it and I’ll probably end up stuffed into a box on that ship, like it or not,” Knight said. “You?”
“I’ll go. Even a utopia will need those with our set of skills.”
****
Ibarra watched the hidden camera footage of Shannon and Knight speaking. His shoulders heaved up and down with a breathless sigh of relief.
“Jimmy, have the tanks on Oberon create another Shannon. She’s not to be decanted until that one leaves,” Ibarra said.
“What about Knight? We have a recent brain scan on file,” the probe said.
“No, Shannon is all I need.”
“There is notable cognitive dissonance in your brain patterns about this decision.”
“What did I tell you about reading my mind? No, it’s not the real Shannon that I’m sending to Terra Nova. She’s long dead. If I’m to continue on, I want a reminder of what I’ve done near me. Every time I see her face…there’s regret. It keeps me human and I don’t expect you to understand that,” Ibarra said.
“Anomalous behavior pattern noted and flagged for future study,” the probe said.
“Show me the progress reports for the Phobos orbital batteries. We need to figure out why those are eight days behind schedule.”
CHAPTER 19
Captain Valdar pressed against the bulkhead as Chief MacDougall made his way pass. Valdar’s breath fogged the inside of his visor. He tapped a control on the side of his helmet, chiding himself for not setting the humidity controls correctly. He was a veteran void sailor, he needed to act like it in front of his crew.
The chief wore an augment suit, a bulky exo-skeleton with pincers mounted on the end of the arms. The suit barely fit through the passageway, the roll cage over MacDougall’s head bumped against the ceiling with each step. Lights on the suit flooded the passageway. Bits of broken metal and dust floated in airless, gravity-less, passageway.
The chief stopped in front of a reinforced door marked BATTERY BAY C. Amber warning lights mounted on the door frame blinked erratically.
“Sure the rooms dead?” MacDougall asked. “Hate to open the door and get fried like I’m at a chippy.”
“It’s grounded,” chief engineer Levin said. He backed away from MacDougall and bumped up against the team of medics and damage control sailors that filled the passageway.
