by Lara LaRue
“But they’ll be slaughtered.”
“Yes. But this is what they are born and bred for. This is what they live for. Battle and protecting their home.”
Dammit, that’s no fairer than sending heavily armed teenagers. I hugged the beast around the neck suddenly. “Please don’t die, Keer.”
Keer just crooned and licked my cheek before moving to the edge of the outer wall with the others. Her tail lashed with excitement.
Dekkir slipped an arm around me gently. “I will guide her. But I will need your help anticipating any who might aim at her. Without a seer, she has no chance of dodging those weapons.”
I closed my eyes. Tabirus. Where are you? Please, you said you’d do something. There are still dozens of them and they’re all armored, and they’ll fire as soon as they are in range. Please—
His voice came to my head grimly. I’m on my way. Just hold the wall until I get there. I had to take a little something out of mothballs for this particular battle, and it took me some time.
I took a deep, shivery breath and looked up at Dekkir. “Tabirus is on his way. He says he has a surprise for our enemies. All we have to do is hold the wall until he gets here.”
The heavy thud of a pulse rifle sounded, and a bolt of light slammed against the fort’s outer wall. Dekkir turned and whistled to the other riders, and suddenly, dozens of Rilleen bounded into the air.
I closed my eyes, focusing past Dekkir’s mind and the warriors’ minds, past the wildly delighted Rilleen, down onto the plain, where the human soldiers saw the Rilleen rise and started taking aim. I sensed a finger tightening on a trigger and gunsights locking on Keer. There—dodge! Dodge now!
I felt Dekkir’s mental command, and Keer swooped sideways, a sizzling beam of light darting past her. Around her, other Rilleen were doing the same—but one didn’t dodge in time and dissolved in blinding light and a final shriek. The rest continued circling down toward the soldiers, dodging fire, a few dying on the way. My head pounded as I struggled to anticipate each shot.
“I’m not sure I can focus much longer.” I gasped, exhaustion clawing at my mind. I was proud of how far I had come with my new powers, but I knew my limits. I didn’t want to fail him at a crucial moment.
“You can do this, my darling. Keep trying!” Dekkir’s voice was firm and brooked no refusal. I felt his strength add to my own again and reached out to the minds of the humans. Keer wheeled, dodged—and tore the head off one of the soldiers as she swept past, helmet and all.
The battle raged for minutes as we helped the Rilleen dodge and strike between the beams. Cheers rose from the walls as the line stopped advancing—but the humans fought back doggedly, holding their ground. I did my best not to involve myself emotionally in the chaos below—but sometimes the human I was “watching” would die suddenly, and I would get that same cold, panicky feeling of being pulled down after him. When that happened, Dekkir would reach a hand out and lay it firm on my shoulder, and my mind would settle again.
I closed my eyes and focused again and felt something on the edge of my consciousness, a powerful soul—Tabirus, flying high. I expected for a moment that when I opened my eyes, I would see him on the back of a Rilleen. Instead, I saw the silver, vane-winged airship from my visions of ancient Lyra.
It extended two glittering prongs toward the line of armored men, and I heard a low thump as something shimmering and colorless rolled through the air toward the enemy line. It detonated when it hit, sending twenty of them scattering in pieces.
I stared. Dekkir slipped an arm around me, staring upward as well, but his face was grim.
“What is that?” I breathed.
“Forbidden technology,” he rumbled gravely. “A device so ancient it should have fallen to pieces by now, save for its accursed brilliance of design.”
I stared at him a moment as he scowled, then nodded slowly. Lyran technological excesses had led them to ravage this world. Of course he would be wary of something like that ‘brought out of mothballs.’
But profane or not, the airship did the job and, with a few more shots, broke the human line and sent them fleeing toward the pitiless jungle. I knew they would not survive there; the others would pick them off now that the concussive wave from even glancing blows from the ship’s fore weapon had shattered their power armor. The airship soared overhead as the Rilleen turned back toward the wall, and the cheer that went up from the assembled warriors boomed like thunder.
Tabirus had the good grace to abandon the airship before walking in through the gates of Highfort. He was met with fanfare . . . until the cheers died out, as everyone realized they were looking at a man who was neither human nor modern Lyran.
Helmet under his arm, the figure who strode toward us in the silver jumpsuit of his human disguise had close-cropped white-blond hair . . . and the golden eyes of a Lyran. He smiled around at the assembled court, Dorin, willowy Neyilla, Dekkir, and myself and then walked up to the high chieftain and bowed. “Tabirus, at your service.”
Neyilla stared. “You . . . you are one of the Ancients!” She took a step forward, looking him up and down. “Are you not?”
The Ancients were legendary on Lyra. Over two thousand years ago, they had chosen to alter their race’s genetic structure, to adapt them to survival without the over-reliance on technology that had nearly killed their planet. Thanks to them, the planet was currently thriving, its ecosystem pristine and its people, though low in population, both long-lived and almost impossibly healthy. Apparently, the older version of the Lyrans was so close to human in appearance that he had been able to pass for one of us.
Tabirus nodded once. “I am. I was alive when the great adaptation was made. I was part of the team of scientists who developed the Golden Strain and one of the first to inoculate myself with it.” He bowed to us. “I apologize for my deceit, but it was necessary in order to make my infiltration of the humans that much more convincing.” He offered a charming smile.
Dorin didn’t seem entirely convinced, but simply lifted an eyebrow. “Your assistance is welcome,” the high chieftain said and then started coughing, leaning hard against the wall as his son put a hand on his shoulder.
“What my father means is your assistance is welcome, but . . .” Dekkir frowned. “Do not bring that flying machine within range of any of our forts again.”
The Ancient smiled. “Understood. It was a desperate time.”
Tabirus sat with his brandy by Dorin’s hearth, as everyone sat around nearby, listening to his story. “We watched our world dying around us while most of us busied ourselves warring over the scraps that were left. It was the biological sciences that saved us, where mechanistic science had failed. By engineering ourselves and our world, we slowly healed this world and made it strong again.”
“Any particular reason you filled it up with horrible flesh-eating monsters?” I couldn’t help but sound a little sarcastic.
“All right, well, perhaps we made it just a bit too strong.” He smiled ruefully. “But the powerful genetics that allowed this world to heal simply made everything that much more . . . vital.”
“And aggressive.” Dekkir smiled a bit, though. Keer had come through unscathed, and he was clearly happy about it.
“But even though our world is dangerous, and our numbers small, we live in balance with it and thrive. That was what we Ancients set out to do, and I see it in what the humans now covet.” Tabirus looked around at them calmly. “You have done well with the tools we have given you. That is why I chose to aid you by infiltrating the humans.”
I frowned thoughtfully at him. “Were you among the developing Lyrans this entire time?”
“Actually, I was in stasis for a significant portion of that time. I had deliberately absented myself in order to let our descendants develop without as much meddling. But the approach of the humans awakened me, and I chose to intervene.” He smiled around at their stunned expressions. “Dear me, you’re an interesting lot when you’re quiet for once.
”
“Very funny.” Dekkir tilted his head slightly. “What are your intentions now?”
Tabirus smiled. “Take one of the dropships back, continue the charade. I have a project . . . growing . . . back at Earth base, which should help us tremendously.”
He looked straight at me and then gave me a conspiratorial wink. I blinked at him, wondering what it meant, but he just went right back to telling stories of ancient times.
CHAPTER 17 / DEKKIR
That night, my mate and I celebrated in the most appropriate Lyran fashion: in the baths. The enormous, frothy tub of steaming water smelled of night-blooms and washed against us softly as we embraced in its depths. I stood in water up to my chest, cradling her soft, warm, deliciously lithe body against me as we bobbed and writhed and nuzzled together. My muscles were beautifully slack after the second climax, and she sobbed with pleasure and happy exhaustion as she clung to me.
Resting half afloat between bouts, her head pillowed on my chest while her hair floated around her, she radiated contentment, love, and relief. We were all relieved. We had survived the siege, the humans were routed, and Tabirus had shared his secret—and hope for the future, not only for Lyra, but for Earth as well. For if a scientist of the old times chose to intervene in Earth’s accelerating decline, then perhaps there was hope for humanity and for peace between them and the Lyrans.
The very idea had Grace much happier and more excited than I had seen her since she had discovered the true aims of Earth Command in this sector. I was so happy to see her smiling wholeheartedly instead of fighting tears.
I drowsed against her for a little while as we leaned on the side of the tub, my eyelids growing deliciously heavy. But then . . . I sensed something.
Normally, no one could slip up on me. I would sense their emotions, if not the noise they made. But in that moment, I realized we were not alone in the columned bathing chamber. A shadow with no feelings at all stepped out from behind a partition and pointed a silver hand weapon at me.
“Well, isn’t this cute?” the dark-haired, icily pretty human male sneered as he walked toward us. He wore one of the silver jumpsuits, this one with black piping, and his blue eyes were empty despite his broad smirk. “Didn’t think you had an alien fetish, Grace.” His tone went childishly mocking.
Grace stiffened against me, and I tightened a protective arm around her, knowing from her disgusted rage who this man had to be. “What is your game, Norcross?” I spat the name.
“It’s quite simple. I’ve got a dropship waiting. I’m taking this little infected traitor back with me for experimentation . . . and then trial and execution.” He licked his lips. “Now. Let go of her. The two of you get your clothes on. I’m sure Earth Command will be happy as hell to see me take the war chief back as a captive.” He grinned.
I glared at him and then let her go. We quickly scrambled for our clothes, while he pointed the pistol straight at Grace to ensure my good behavior.
I growled with frustration under my breath but complied. I wouldn’t risk him wiggling his finger and sending my mate into dust with that . . . device. He would smile as he did it—of that I was certain. So I stood there, forced to tolerate it as he eyed her up, staring at every flex and curve of her as she pulled on her tunic and leggings.
He led us to the back of the bathing chamber, where a single open window dangled a silvery rope ladder down the outer wall. I wondered how we had missed his entrance and then ground my teeth in embarrassment. Oh.
“Climb. No messing around.”
I went first, testing the strange, thin, but terribly sturdy rope. I climbed along slowly, trying to keep within grabbing range of exhausted Grace should she slip. When we were most of the way down, Norcross looked down at me coldly and then leaped out the window. The retro-rockets on his boots hissed a few times, and he landed on the ground and trained his pistol back on Grace. “Move.”
“This is foolish, Norcross. Listen to me.” Grace was struggling to reason with him, her voice a little shaky but her tone and expression earnest. “You don’t have to do this. The Lyrans are preparing to offer their assistance in revitalizing Earth. That’s not an opportunity you want to pass up!”
He stood over her with his fists on his hips, laughing as I helped her the rest of the way down. “Wow, that’s funny. You actually believe that. You have an awful lot of faith in these aliens, Grace! But we all know it’s bullshit.
“Earth is dying! Our homes . . . our families . . . everything back home that we love is going to be gone in under a generation. It’s all gone to shit. Poverty and wars over tiny scraps of half-fertile land where everything mutates because of radon or chemical poisoning, people starving to death, standing up in cities so crowded there’s no lying down. Earth is a rotting corpse, and we’re still trying to suckle from her teat, and look what that shit is getting us! Sick, dying, and fighting each other over the last rotten drops! We have three choices: take over somewhere else, die out, or let the Lyrans help out. And guess what? I don’t plan to die!”
He marched us away from the wall, toward a little canyon dug by a rushing creek. The three moons rode high in the sky, casting blue, greenish, and golden light over the wavering grass, but it seemed none of their light could reach far into the cleft between those rock walls. I could see gleams of silver in the darkness of the canyon: a dropship.
Norcross started talking again as we entered the canyon of shadows. “Now here’s the deal. Grace pilots, you’ll be in the passenger seat, and I’ll be sitting behind Grace with my gun to her head. We’re headed back to Earth Command Base up on that moon, Grace girl, and you’re going to face the music.” He gestured with the gun, and we mutely descended into the dark of the canyon.
My eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, and narrowed as I saw Norcross stumble slightly on the path. He was at a greater disadvantage here. My muscles tensed as I gaged how closely he was following Grace with the pistol.
He stumbled again, and his aim wavered. I dove forward at once, knocking his hand away from her direction. The pistol went off with a hard thud and knocked a skull-sized chunk of rock from the canyon wall. Then I slammed into him with my full weight, and we both went over and started rolling down the steep path toward the creek bottom.
He fought the whole time, even after the pistol slid down the slope before him, squirming and kicking under me with the tenacity of one too proud to give in. Of all his traits, that one I could admire, though I wasn’t about to admit that to him. Instead, I wrestled back and forth with him as we slid farther down the slope, while Grace ran after us, trying to get past our tangled, angry, dust-smeared mass to grab the fallen, sliding pistol.
I grabbed him by the head and pinned him down briefly; she darted past, but he stuck out a leg and kicked hers out from under her. She went down with a yelp and then scrambled back up, only to have us slide into her and knock her over again. The rough canyon scree flew up into my face and ground against my shoulder and arm as I slid downward. Norcross kneed me in the stomach and then gasped when it hurt him more than me. Growling, I flipped him over and rode his face partway down the canyon.
Finally, we fetched up against the landing gear of the dropship with a hard clunk. Grace got up with a sigh, brushing herself off, while I pinned down Norcross with one hand and started punching him hard in the face.
“How dare you! How dare you threaten my mate! How dare you burst in on us when we’re enjoying ourselves, you perverse beast! How dare you look at her like that!” Slam, slam, slam . . . Each blow bounced his head off the stone and forced a little grunt of pain and surprise out of him, but I wasn’t satisfied. His gaze had oozed all over Grace like a slug when he had watched her dress. I wanted him dead. And doing it by punching his brains half out of his head first seemed like the best method possible. “Grace. Get the firearm!”
“I’m looking for it,” she started as she scrambled around the creek shallows beneath the dropship.
Norcross shouted in outrage, his
voice slurred by bloody lips and loose teeth, and kicked me hard in the thigh. His hands lashed out and dug against my face, gouging at my eyes. I reared back, prepared to punch him in the face again, and suddenly, I heard Grace’s voice in my head. Stop!
What? I raised my head to look at her, and she nodded at me.
Play along. Just trust me. She winked with a strangely mischievous little smile. I wondered why it looked familiar.
Norcross clawed at something in the shadows, just catching it with his fingertips, and abruptly, he had the pistol in his hand. He trained it on Grace again, and I froze.
“That’s better,” he chuckled as he pushed his way up, wriggling free of my grip like a lizard and jumping to his feet. Blood streamed down his face, but he simply grinned. “Now get into the damn ship.”
We climbed inside, Grace sliding into the pilot’s seat and me sitting down beside her. The copilot’s seat was tiny under me, cramped. The padding was inadequate. Norcross clambered in after us and slammed the hatch shut, making the egg-shaped compartment feel even more claustrophobic.
“Now. Let’s get out of here.” He gestured with the point of the gun, and Grace started flipping switches, her back completely to him.
She was smiling.
I didn’t realize why until I glanced behind me for a second. I noticed a shock of blond hair and a silver jumpsuit and realized Tabirus was sitting behind me.
Norcross laughed. “I almost had to call you out to help me subdue this one, Stirling. He’s a real wild animal.”
“You have no idea,” I broke in dryly.
“Quiet, you,” Tabirus snapped and winked at me with the eye farthest from Norcross, a tiny curl to his lips. “Adults are talking.”
He says he wants us with him so we can infiltrate the base. He has a plan for when we get there. Just play along for now.
