by K. Gorman
Oh, here and there.
Tia sent her images―snapshot memories from her own eyes and brain. Centauri guards with their heads turned toward them, multiple shots of their second-in-command, Sarah Tillerman, staring at her from across a distance. A drone, capturing video before it had been shot down.
There were…quite a few of them.
Huh. Honestly, I haven’t been paying them much attention.
Ever since the Centauri―or at least those who belonged to the Menassi Tri-Quad Alliance―had surrendered, she’d dismissed them from her mind. She wasn’t a leader, so they weren’t her problem. Fallon could handle the negotiations, and, as far as she knew, they had. The Tri-Quad Alliance had, as instructed, set up a camp of their troops on an old farm about twenty kilometers away from the compound in Brazil, and all of their orbiting ships had stood down in a ceasefire. Each day, Commander Tillerman hopped on their version of a delegate shuttle and was escorted around, something she’d asked for in the negotiations, for whatever reason.
By Tia’s memories―her memories―she’d apparently come all that way just to stare at Karin whenever she was in sight.
All right. Maybe there was something going on there.
Just because Kalinsky had a reason to stir shit didn’t mean there wasn’t shit to stir.
And Fallon’s change in attitude was a bit suspect. At first, she’d decided it was them simply handling her new abilities by testing the shit out of them, but they’d only used her combat abilities.
She had literal worlds to explore, but they hadn’t touched them.
I don’t think I was out of line with Crane earlier, she thought. Something is up.
Oh, you were definitely out of line. But yes, I agree.
Is there anything we can do about it?
Here, in this ship, flying at approximately nine-hundred kilometers per hour, ten thousand meters above the Pacific Ocean? No, probably not. Any drastic action would tip our hand. Wait ’til we’re back at camp and start putting out feelers.
Good idea. She tilted her head. Hey, you never know―maybe it’s nothing.
Or maybe it’s not, Tia answered. Now, they’re taking the long way to let everyone get some rest. I suggest you get some, too. You need to sleep.
On that, we both agree. She did a quick calculation in her head. Ten hours ’til we arrive. I bet I can sleep for nine of those.
It’s nice to see ambition in my new host.
She shivered. Christ, don’t say it like that. That’s fucked.
Tia chuckled. Sorry. I watched too many science fiction movies in my formative years. Go get some sleep. I’ll leave you alone.
And, with that, Tia’s presence faded in her mind. Karin blinked, suddenly more aware of the corridor she’d been walking down. She wondered how she’d looked, walking blankly down the way, casually munching on the bag of jerky in her hand.
Eh, they’ve probably seen worse. At least I’m not covered in blood.
No, that had been the second-last mission. When they’d raided a different farm and someone had rigged a bomb to the undrained carcass of a beef cow and she hadn’t ported into the Shadow world quick enough.
At least she’d been wearing her full suit at the time, helmet and all.
She gave her head a little shake then lifted her gaze to the rest of the hall. It was quiet in the Courant. Peaceful. Although they were on their way to a combat mission and people were around, doing their jobs, she detected a laid-back atmosphere. The lights had cycled lower to signal night mode and let the majority get their sleep, and the calm whir of the ships systems and holos instilled a sense of peace in her.
It reminded her of her first space station, a little bit. Liberty, in orbit around Nova. A docking port that handled immigration to the planet, among other things.
She reached down for another piece of jerky.
Between one second and the next, the atmosphere shifted. A slip of static brushed her senses.
Instantly, her mind locked on it. Her head swiveled, gaze snapping to a spot inside a doorway across the hall.
For a second, all noise seemed to fade out.
The Shadow wasn’t tall, but it stood out against its surroundings. Even with the dimness of the halls, and the relative darkness of the Med bay behind it, whose lights operated on a motion sensor to conserve power, it stood out.
It wasn’t mere darkness, not like the black they learned about in primary school―its body was a slash of the Void, transplanted into the domestic confines of the ship, as if someone had looked deep into the Black between the stars and cut out a shape.
It was human, or it looked it, anyway. It had the correct number of limbs in roughly the correct spaces, though its shoulders seemed to stoop a bit, and it had an oval shape for its head. The edges of its body flickered and undulated, and the space right at its borders blurred like a meniscus of water, hard to look at.
It was watching her, just like everyone else was doing these days. It had no eyes that she could see, but she knew precisely when their gazes connected. It sent a shock through her.
She stared. It stared back. Then, it shifted. She felt it reach out.
“Eos.”
The word imprinted on her mind, surrounded by a layer of static.
When she looked back up, the Shadow was gone.
She let out a breath.
Yeah, that was a thing. Lately, the Shadows had been acting really fucking weird. She had no idea why, but she had a feeling it had something to do with her. They, after all, had something to do with Sasha. And now, they couldn’t take their eyes off Karin.
Plus, she was Eurynome now. Not Eos. Though, technically, she could still conjure light.
Maybe she was both?
She let out another breath and turned around, heading back to the small room the team used for missions.
Fuck it. That’s a tomorrow problem. I’m going the hells to sleep.
Chapter Five
“Three minutes out,” Nomiki said, her voice slightly distorted by the wide band comms. “Karin, you good?”
She grunted in acknowledgment, frowning down at the armor covering her fingers. The klemptas was new, less than a week old, but she’d already put multiple scratches and scorch marks in it, and she doubted she’d ever fully acclimate to it. Form-fitting, with an array of pressure-sensitive relays, combat sensors, and medical tech built into its panels, the inner layer suctioned so close to her that it felt like it had melded into every crack, crevice, and wrinkle she possessed―and then moved with them. Like an intelligent second skin.
Nomiki had said that was normal.
The ship tilted, yawing to the left. She readjusted her grip on one of the hallway’s handrails, keeping track of the flight pattern on a map screen to the side. Her stomach did a flip as the ship’s built-in gravity tech slipped during the turn, struggling to keep perfectly even against the planet gravity pulling from below. The dusty haze of the sky slid down just enough to reveal a shallow ridge of mountains, their sides a mix of dark green foliage and a dry, russet soil she’d grown familiar with over the past hour. Several roads ribboned through the mountains, one looping through just beneath them, and she caught sight of a few vehicles down below, crawling along like ants. Signs of a small town appeared in the valley beyond, dust-tinted buildings weathered and ancient, their age indecipherable in their simple, concrete designs.
According to the map, they were somewhere over Western China, close to the Tibetan border. Far from their last mission in Australia, or the one before that in Chile, and nowhere close to either Brazil or Macedonia, where they’d rediscovered two of Seirlin’s Eurynome Project compounds.
The ship straightened out. In the window, blue sky returned, looking burnt around the edges.
A beep sounded in her ear, and a new countdown appeared on her visor’s HUD. She let out a slow breath and rolled her shoulders, feeling the suit respond to the movement. Beside them, Jon stood to the side, holding onto a handrail with a light grip. Ganis
, small in comparison even in her mechanized suit―anyone would be small in comparison to him―already had her gun resting against her shoulder, ready to cover.
The ship banked again, this time seeming to lift, and a heavy clunk echoed through the hold. Though her suit sensors filtered the noise, she could still hear the whine of the engines from outside the helmet as they compensated for the landing.
Then, with a heavy lurch that she felt through her knees and hips, they had landed and the doors were hissing open.
They dropped down into the sun and the dust, and she hit the ground running.
Halfway up to the next ridge, the cave opened in the rock face like an old, brown scab.
Doomsday cult with another gravitational anomaly. What fun.
It might have been beautiful, once. If the hill hadn’t been strip-cut and razed, and the forest that once existed here had remained, it had all the potential of being a mystic’s abode. Instead, it stood like a crude testament to Earth’s specific brand of tragic, ugly resource-strapped legacy.
A quick hop over a crenellated barrier put them on a dusty road structure that zigzagged up the ridge, only a few old, dusty signs in Chinese and English marking the route. As they drew nearer, they began to pass signs of worship―talisman papers tagged to the border wall, ornaments in red and gold filigree hanging from the blanched limbs of a scrubby tree at the side of the road, a small roadside shrine with old, burnt offerings in it, their ash long dusted away by the wind, others made of rocks or bits of broken concrete pieces gathered from somewhere.
A group of small outbuildings appeared as they drew level with the cave. Karin scanned the low structures, noting the disheveled façades, cracked windows, and broken roofs―possibly occupied, but not her problem. Fallon had other teams who would sweep them and the main structure above.
The dry mix of dust, gravel, and broken concrete fragments crunched under her boots, and the sun beat down on her suit as they veered toward the entrance, passing a large broken concrete incense holder that had been knocked on its side. Old sticks of used incense littered the area amid other debris and trash.
Nomiki paused at the entrance, her blaster at rest by her thigh. The tiny gun looked inadequate next to Jon’s much larger assault-style rifle, but it suited Nomiki’s style more. She was built for strength and speed, preferring close distance to disable an enemy.
Karin felt similar. Though she was still adjusting to her new physical abilities, she’d already experienced that parallel between her and her sister.
In mythology, Eurynome may have been an accomplished wrestler as opposed to a warrior, but it was clear that the practical gene mods and physiological changes ran much closer to her sister’s Enyo program.
Then again, Jon, Program Ares, also had similar moves. He was just stronger and bulkier.
We made a base set of ‘warrior’ modifications that could be activated, Tia whispered into her mind.
Ah. That made sense. And, as the whisper bloomed across her awareness, the knowledge slid in, as well―as if she’d always known it, but was just starting to recall it. Vaguely, she remembered Tia talking to one of the Corringhams about it and discussing its integration at some length.
She slipped her weight to the side, mirroring her sister as they flattened closer to the rock wall. Heat radiated from the dusty stone, the sun even managing to push through her suit. A small read-out at the bottom corner of her screen indicated it was thirty-two degrees Celsius.
With a quiet whir of its grav engine and motors, a Fallon N3 drone swooped low and hovered in front of the entrance. The second fire team ran past, heading to secure the outbuildings and upper structure. She watched them run up the road, moving in tactical stops and starts, blasters up to cover each other as they disappeared from view.
The drone above them hovered for a second, the instruments on its front working, then lifted off with a whir.
“All clear,” came the voice from Mission Control back in the war room of the Courant. “Alpha Team proceed.”
“Proceeding,” Nomiki acknowledged over the comms.
Nomiki shifted back. With a click and a whir, she casually popped a small T-series drone out of her suit’s shoulder and tossed it through the opening. It skipped on the air for a second before the quiet burr of wings activated. It straightened, rotated, then followed the slope of the stairs down.
“Initial scan clear,” Nomiki said, her voice sounding closer and clearer on the team channel than it had on the wide-band. “No heat signatures detected. Karin, you follow me, Ganis after her. Jon, you protect the rear.” She paused, apparently thinking. “Sandwich Protocol.”
Ganis snorted, but otherwise said nothing about the name choice. Given Karin’s lack of military training and general inability to condense years of code and military jargon and exercises into the past six days of activity, Nomiki had adopted unconventional re-names to what she assumed were common military techniques.
The first dip of the cave was relatively simple. Though most of it was loose with a sprinkle of scree, the cave had clearly seen use and they found it easy to pick their way through. Ganis branched out to the left, rifle up and roving the cave ahead to cover Nomiki’s lead―most rifles had a built-in scanner better or sharper than the ones that overlaid their suit visors. The smell of heat and dust retreated, replaced by a soothing coolness that crept up from the shade. After a few hundred feet, the cave widened.
Karin narrowed her eyes as she stared into its depths, trying to see into the shadows.
Somewhere down below, there was a gravitational anomaly tripping both the Courant and the Pegasus’ shipboard scans.
And, somewhere down below, a doomsday cult was waiting for them.
But first, to her pleasant surprise, a shrine appeared out of the gloom.
Given its Buddhist lean, she guessed it was the cave’s initial worship site. Hundreds and hundreds of small statuettes of varying styles and sizes collected on the walls, surrounding a much larger statue that stretched a full two meters high and depicted a figure in repose with roughly ten different arms, each holding a different item or making a different gesture. Old, dusty offerings accompanied what had to be the remains of thousands of incense sticks and burnt out candles. Three kneeling pillows lay askew in front of the statue, along with a wooden cashbox that had been rent and robbed long ago.
She glanced at the statue, partially recognizing the shape. Guanyin, the goddess or saint of mercy, depending on which religion you followed and which translation you picked, was widely worshipped in the Sirius system.
Perhaps it was her, but it seemed as though a sense of quiet fell over the small group as they passed the statues and old offerings.
A second later, the hairs on the back of her neck rose all at once, and an odd sensation slid through her bones―cold and quick, like a fish darting to hide in her marrow.
Her head snapped up, almost immediately finding a Shadow by the other wall.
Ganis swore. “That wasn’t there a second ago.”
“Well, it is now,” Nomiki replied. “Leave it be. Maybe it’ll go away again. Karin?”
“Yeah, I don’t think it’s a threat,” she said. “More curious than anything.”
“It still fucks me up that you can talk to them,” the Marine grumbled, veering to give the Shadow a wide berth. “Fuck.”
Karin kept her mouth shut. Technically, anyone could ‘talk’ to the Shadows. She didn’t do anything more special than opening her mouth and making words come out of it.
But not everyone could have the Shadows reply back. And not everyone had the Shadows so intently focused on them.
At least they’d stopped attacking, for the most part.
That would change the second Sasha got involved, though.
Which was why they needed to find her.
A rush of static prickled her skin, and her attention slid back to the Shadow.
As if watching a movie, the Shadow turned its head and looked toward the cave up ah
ead.
Karin shifted, following it. Nomiki was sweeping her flashlight around, glancing over a series of murals painted onto the rocks.
Movement shifted farther into the cave. She glanced over, and saw a man aim a rifle.
She lunged forward. “Nomiki! Heads up!”
The bullet cracked against her sister’s helmet. Immediately, their HUDs lit up the field, back-tracing the shot and searching for opponents. Nomiki flinched, swore, then launched forward.
Behind her, the crack of answering laser-fire came as Jon and Ganis joined the fight.
Well, guess we’re going in fighting.
She ducked, following her instincts into a roll down the next slope. A bullet cracked into her shoulder, and her HUD lit up her suit in red, showing the impact dispersal in the corner of her screen. Pain numbed like a surface bruise across her shoulder and chest.
But, a second later, her combat modifications kicked in, and everything changed.
The cave sharpened, focused. Adrenaline crashed through her veins, followed swiftly by a cocktail of pain suppressants and steroids. She rolled out of her tumble and into a low sprint, a snarl tracing her lips as her powers reached out, warping the universe around her.
The next three bullets slipped into the other world, cracking the quiet of the Shadows with a series of thuds. Her breath roared in her ears, her feet a crash of pounding on the floor. Her brain caught on three people crouched in varying parts of the cave―three sets of eyes, attention drawn to her. A second later, her HUD tagged them, painting their weapons in red for her.
One, a woman, raised her gun at her.
She twisted, felt the universe bend.
The bullet slid past her shoulder and into the other world, cracking harmlessly against a wall. With her other hand, she directed a splice through the center of the gun, slicing the firearm clean in half just ahead of the trigger.
It was quick and quiet. Nothing fancy. No lights or cameras.
One second, the woman had a gun in her hands. In the next, she had half a gun, and was pulling on the trigger uselessly.
