by Dante King
“Buggy is scary?” Skrew marveled.
“Looks like it,” I said. “Reaver, have you ever heard of anything like this?”
“No,” she said. “What do you make of it?”
“I don’t know for sure, but I’m thinking this is a drone, a male. Where there is a Queen and a colony, there has to be a way for her to produce more troops.”
“The creature appears old and frail,” Beatrix said.
She had her rifle pointed at the thing’s head. It would occasionally touch the rifle’s muzzle. When it did, she slapped it away with the barrel.
She was right. The Xeno’s carapace was cracked, and it showed evidence of being recently repaired. Long, spidery lines that resembled welds were scattered across its surface. In fact, its left forearm seemed to be completely constructed of welds. Its shoulder resembled a chewed piece of bubble gum.
Social insects produced drones only when they were required for mating and colony-building. When the drones had served their purpose, they either died of the mating process or starved to death. Keeping them around to consume valuable resources was inefficient.
If the Queen was as intelligent as I thought she might be, she could fight nature and keep her drones around long past their normal expiration date. I could only think of two reasons she would do that. Either she could no longer produce drones, or the drones we’d found were produced by another Queen. The second option seemed more likely, as trading drones between colonies would help bolster both sides’ gene pools.
If that was the case, it looked like it had been a long time since the local Queen had seen another. Whether it meant this Queen was too far away from the others to trade or there was some sort of internal conflict happening was another question.
“Skrew can pew the Xeno?” the vrak asked.
“Go ahead,” I said.
Skrew kicked the creature twice, knocking it over onto its face. Then, he proceeded to jab the barrel of the gun at the end of its abdomen where, if it was a bee, its stinger would have been. The spot he was aiming for kept twitching to one side, then the other, avoiding being impaled on the weapon.
“Oh,” Reaver gasped, “I didn’t think he was serious.”
“Just shoot it,” I said, “or I’ll let Beatrix do it. We don’t have time for that just now.”
Skrew sighed, pointed his barrel at the Xeno’s head, and pulled the trigger, burning a hole all the way through. The Xeno quit moving and bled out onto the deck.
Its blood, I noticed, was not the deep green of other Xeno. It was thin, almost transparent, and held a distinctly yellow color. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen oddly-colored Xeno blood. These Xeno weren’t warriors. I set my team back into formation, and we continued to march to our goal.
We’d walked for probably almost 30 minutes when the passage turned to the left and began to level off. I spotted another room about 100 yards ahead and signaled the danger with my hand while I took a knee.
“How much further?” I asked Nyna.
She shrugged. “I know we’re going the right direction, but they didn’t really have a way to measure distance. It didn’t seem important, you know? Like it wasn’t a thing the bugs ever thought about. Maybe the Queen, but not the others. But I don’t think she gets out much.”
We continued forward and found new horrors. The room was wide, kidney-shaped, and shorter than the last, nine feet at the most. Both walls were festooned with translucent membranes arranged in evenly spaced patterns. It was the first time we’d spotted anything in the Xeno hive that made sense. It was a hatchery.
Beatrix and Skrew kept guard, one at each exit.
I peered into the first cell on the left and discovered a pupa the size of a loaf of bread. The Martian government didn’t have any data on what young Xeno looked like, and it appeared I’d answered the question. It seemed I would have the choice of two careers when I returned to Mars: I could catalog my findings and become an innovative scientist, or use all this information to wipe out the Xeno once and for all.
“Son of a bitch,” Reaver breathed. She stumbled away from a cell a few feet down from me and covered her mouth, staring in horror.
When I approached, she buried her face in my chest. She wasn’t crying, but she sounded close to it.
“What is it?” I asked.
She shook her head and pointed. I gave her a quick hug and left her to go see.
At first, I thought it looked like another pupa—but it was too big, and the shape was wrong. I stared at the slowly squirming thing for another few seconds until I had to accept what I had verified from all sides.
It was a man. It was a crew member from the Revenge. Tatters of clothing still covered part of his deformed body.
He was twisting his neck to impossible positions as a white, shiny substance resembling strands of lace streamed from his mouth. The lower half of his body was already covered in the stuff, and it looked like he was working on the upper half. He was building a cocoon.
“Wow,” Nyna whispered, who appeared to have come to my side soundlessly. “It’s like… is that man turning into a Xeno?”
“Sure looks like it,” I said.
A sudden and unexpected wave of sadness suddenly crashed into me. I felt utterly powerless seeing this process take place, without being able to think of anything but killing him to stop it from happening.
You can’t do it. You can’t continue. You must surrender and give yourself to the Xeno. Your suffering will be minimal. Your pain will end.
I physically shook the words away and turned my head as I searched for the source.
“Maybe we should just give up,” Nyna said. “I don’t think we can win.”
“Whatever that voice was,” I scolded, “don’t listen to it. I think it’s the Queen trying to destroy our will. She knows she’s about to die, she’s doing anything she can to stop us. This is exactly the sign we needed that tells us we’re doing the right things.”
“Okay,” Nyna said, subdued.
Reaver seemed to have been affected by the mental assault as well, but she was recovering. Her jaw was set and she frowned, though she still slightly hung her head. But of course she was crushed by what she just saw too. It showed her dedication to our mission, our old mission. Which meant she was dedicated to our new mission too. We would avenge our lost Marines, and do anything we could to save those who might have survived.
I drew Ebon and began stabbing it through the thick membrane covering each cell. One by one, the residents twitched and died. When I’d run the last one through, an ear-piercing scream echoed through the hallway ahead. It wasn’t human. It was answered by hisses and clatters throughout the hive, seeming to come from all sides.
We were about to find out what the Queen’s last murderous act of desperation would be.
Chapter Eighteen
“What the hell was that?” Reaver asked when the monstrous scream faded into echoes.
“Um, do you think that was the Queen?” Nyna asked. “Because if it was, you just royally pissed her off, you realize?”
“Incoming!” Beatrix said, picking up the lingo.
From a passageway came the sounds of skittering, sliding, and scraping. The noises slowed and, eventually, stopped. I aimed my pistol and vaporized the head of the Xeno warrior when it poked its head around a corner about 90 feet down the hallway that was supposed to be our exit. Its body fell as it pumped great gouts of green, acidic blood onto the deck. I could see more hiding around the corner, their tear-drop shaped heads peering out from behind a bulkhead.
“Status,” I whispered.
“They do not attack,” Beatrix whispered back. “They cower far down the hallway. Why are they doing that?”
“I don’t know,” Reaver said. “Maybe they want to keep us here for some reason. But we’ve already proven we’re unpredictable. The Queen has to know that by now. She’s also got to know that if we can’t go down either hallway, we’ll end up shooting holes in this place. Damn, do you thi
nk that’s what she’s counting on?”
I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I was beginning to tire of the constant fighting against a seemingly endless horde of Xeno. It seemed like it was all my life had consisted of.
Growing them took time, though, as evidenced by the hatchery I found myself in. The Queen’s supplies were not inexhaustible. All we needed to do was outlast her.
Rapid energy weapon fire from behind me announced the first wave. My hallway, however, remained clear, though I knew the Xeno were still down at the other end. Then, they did something unexpected. It seemed the Queen had taken a leaf out of one of our books.
The Xeno troops began reaching around the corner and rolling oothecae toward us. I watched, fascinated at the ingenuity of the mindless creatures, and wondered at the spectacle.
That’s something I would do, I thought.
Ootheca didn’t explode like grenades. But if they were bumped too hard, thrown, or stepped on, they’d burst and fling their sticky, acidic contents everywhere. Although the first few only made it ten feet down the hallway, the next two made it almost halfway.
“We’ve got a problem,” I said to my team. “They’re rolling their eggs at us. Eventually, they’ll figure out how hard they can toss them without them breaking, and we’ll end up with a room full of the things.”
“Then, they’ll attack,” Nyna whispered.
The shooting in the opposite hallway stopped.
There is no reason to suffer, the disembodied voice of the Queen said in my mind. You may surrender to them. They will not harm you. They are kind and forgiving. They only want peace. They are like you. They are kin.
Reaver scoffed. “They’re not kin to us. They’re filthy.”
“Yeah!” Skrew added, before turning his head toward the ceiling and bellowing, “Dumb, poo-eating bug lady! No, not lady! Is gross and gaggy! Is stupid—”
His rant was halted by another unnatural scream that seemed to echo not only through the hallway I was facing but also through my mind. I felt the Queen’s rage and frustration as if it were my own. I also felt her deep, pained grief.
Nyna was standing next to Skrew, hands clasped together in front of her face. “She’s so sad. She knows her end is coming. She’s so proud, enraged. She wants revenge. We should surrender, she’s unstoppable—she’ll take the galaxy down with her before surrendering.”
“Skrew,” I ordered, “keep an eye on Nyna. It looks like the Queen’s influence is affecting her more than the rest of us. Don’t let her do anything stupid, but don’t hurt her.”
The vrak pressed his lips together and nodded sharply. Then, he turned to the woman as she continued to stare down the hallway. He gently disarmed her, and Nyna didn’t seem to notice.
“Hers brains is broken, yes?” Skrew asked.
“No,” I said as I turned back toward the hallway. “When she interfaced with that organic computer, I think the Queen was able to tune her mindfuck-ability to her. She’ll need some help until the Queen is dead. Will you help her?”
The vrak nodded. “Skrew will always help Jacob. Always.”
I was touched, but there were still enemies to kill. And lots of them.
Skrew could barely hold both guns. Where I was just beginning to feel the fatigue of the long battle, he was downright exhausted. He and Nyna weren’t Void-touched, of course. They didn’t have the endurance of the rest of us. For their sake, I needed to end the battle sooner rather than later, even if it meant taking greater risks. The risk of losing them as part of the team was something I couldn’t bear thinking of.
Another sound grabbed my attention. I turned my pistol toward the ceiling and took a step back. A crack had formed. Nobody had touched the spot on our side, and I hadn’t heard the clattering of Xeno legs on the structure. It had to be a natural crack caused by material fatigue.
“Nyna,” I said as I returned my focus to the hallway.
I blasted another Xeno head when it got curious and peeked around the corner. More blood filled the hallway.
“Nyna!” I repeated.
“Oh—yes, I’m here,” she whispered. “Sorry, I must’ve… hey, give that back!”
Skrew yelped. She must have taken her gun back. The effects from the Queen’s telepathy had worn off.
“Sorry,” she said again. “I must’ve drifted off for a moment. Got tangled in my thoughts or something.”
I pointed to the ceiling and waited for her to look through Spirit-Watcher. “Is there a passage on the other side of that crack?”
She thought about it for a few seconds before answering.
“Not exactly there. Over here,” she said, pointing to a spot about three feet closer to the center of the room. “That spot doesn’t go anywhere.”
That meant opened onto space. I glanced around and spotted a single little repair bug attempting to stitch the hole I’d made with Ebon through one of the cell membranes.
“Reaver, cover this passage,” I said. “Beatrix, stay there.”
“That’s a lot of oothecae,” Reaver whispered.
She kneeled and pointed her long Void-tech sniper rifle at the end of the hallway. When the next Xeno rolled one down the hallway, she blew the thing’s hand off.
I carefully reached out and picked up the little repair bug, unsure if it had any self-defense mechanisms. It squirmed a bit in my grip but didn't attempt to bite me or stick me with a hidden stinger. I had to stretch to reach the crack in the ceiling, but when I got the bug close, it stopped squirming and reached greedily for the damage. I set it in place, and the bug got to work patching the damage.
“We need to give the bug enough time to reinforce the crack before we knock a hole in the ceiling,” I said.
“That’s not going to be easy,” Reaver said. There’s at least 40 oothecae in the hallway, and they're getting better at knocking them into each other.” As she spoke, a single acid-filled pod rolled into the center of the room.
Nyna reached for it.
“No!” I said. “I’m not sure your Void-tech rod can heal you fast enough.”
“‘I’m the only one with gloves,” she said with a grin as she wiggled her fingers in the air. “This stuff can’t get through, and we can’t just let these things pile up, right? We’ll be stuck in here then, and then when they attack, we’ll either have to stay put or run around and step on them. I wouldn’t put it past the dirty bastards.”
She was right. I was glad she’d figured it out, but at the same time, I was concerned she and Skrew might panic.
“No to step on the bug-booger,” the vrak whispered to himself. “Is bad and eww and ouch. No to step on.”
“I’ll be careful,” Nyna promised. “I’ll drop them into one of the incubation cells you stabbed. Rather than us and the Xeno just rolling them back and forth.”
It was a good plan, and she was right: she was the only person who could do it.
“Go ahead,” I said. “And thank you.”
“No problem,” Nyna said with a wink. “You can pay me back later.”
She picked up the ootheca, inspected it for a second, and walked it to a nearby cell, swinging her hips far more than necessary. I didn’t mind at all.
Using two fingers on her other hand, she separated the membrane I’d cut and slid the ootheca in. It dropped to the bottom of the cell. When it landed, it popped, spattering its contents safely behind the membrane.
“Wow,” Nyna whispered, “It only dropped a foot, maybe less. You weren’t kidding. They’re delicate, and, damn, that’s a lot of nastiness that came out.”
“You still want to do this?” I asked with a nod toward another ootheca that had rolled into the room.
“Yes. I can do it.”
I glanced at the ceiling. The bug was taking its time and, at the moment, appeared to be taking a nap. I poked it with a finger, and it got back to work.
“How much longer?” Reaver asked.
She removed another Xeno hand a second later.
“I thin
k we need to move now,” I said. “This little repair bug looks winded. It’s probably a big job for just one bug. We need to chance it.”
Three more pods rolled into the room. Nyna picked one up and walked it to the cell. The membrane was covered with sticky, green acid, I could no longer see inside.
“Everyone get ready,” I said. “I’m going to blast a hole in the ceiling. I want Reaver to go first. If there’s anything up there that wants to kill us, do what you have to do. Next will be Skrew. I’ll lift him up, and he can cover you. Then, Nyna and Beatrix. I’ll go last, but leave me some room. I’ll be in a hurry.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Reaver said. “Ready when you are.”
I got a quick nod from Beatrix, a worried look from Skrew, and a reserved smile from Nyna. It gave me a heaping helping of pleasure to know how pissed the Queen was going to be. We’d foiled her plan again. When it came to humans, angry opponents made bad decisions. I hoped it was the same for Xeno.
I took aim and fired. The ceiling exploded in a cloud of acrid-smelling, burned exoskeleton.
Reaver stood and kept her rifle aimed at the end of the hallway. In two rapid shots, she managed to remove two curious Xeno heads. I took her place and hit one in the center of its chest. Its falling body sent several of the oothecae rolling toward us. Those hit several others, and the process began to speed up. This was getting out of hand, Nyna would never manage to neutralize all of these.
“Move!” I ordered. “Fuck the plan and go! Everyone through the hole!”
Nobody hesitated. Beatrix ran to the center of the room and gasped when she saw the oothecae. She glanced at me with fear in her eyes—the first time I’d seen the expression on her beautiful face. Then, she grabbed Skrew, ripped his rifle from his hands, and tossed him through the hole, followed by his rifle.
Nyna was next. She went to pick up one of the Xeno organic grenades, but Beatrix grabbed her hand before she could touch it.
