by Dante King
I’d have to fight them on their terms. I hoped the Queen could see us. I was about to demonstrate what was soon going to happen to her.
They were twins in everything except for their arms. The bug on the left had arms that ended in spheres that were covered in dozens of small spikes, like maces. The arms of the one on the right ended in curved blades that resembles swords. It was smart, and whether it was evolution or purposeful design, having two different weapon types on the Queen’s personal guard helped to ensure that no enemy would have an ideal defense.
The fight was on.
The sword-bug came in high and slashed both its blades at my neck. The mace-bug came in low as it swung one weapon, then the other with a great deal of space between them. If I jumped, I’d be cut in half by one. If I didn’t, I’d have both legs crushed by the other.
So, I chose option three.
I took a knee and jabbed Ebon into the deck with the sharp edge of the blade facing the oncoming maces. The first one hit hard enough to drag the back of the blade through the deck a few inches. The bug was fast, though. It adjusted the direction of its second mace and aimed for my fingers as I gripped Ebon’s handle. I had to release my grip and lay my palm flat against the opposite side to keep the blade from smashing into my face.
I knew I’d been sitting for too long, so I abandoned my sword and rolled to my right, just as both of the sword-bug’s blades crashed to the deck and bit deep chunks out of it. The Queen screamed again and the little helmet-like heads of the bugs turned toward the sound. They’d been scolded for damaging the Queen’s antechamber, and though their expressions never changed, I sensed their rage. I had no doubt they would fight to the death, Xeno that they were. And unlike many other things I’d witnessed in the hive, they were efficient.
The sword-bug came at me again. I dodged its first strike as it embedded a blade into the floor. I got three slashes in at its arm and managed to slide Ebon into one of the horizontal slits in its head. The thing reeled back and brought its other claw to its face. Orange fluid pumped from the opening. I’d found a weak spot.
It saw me coming in for another strike and turned its head to the right. I missed the other eye slit but took a gouge out of its helmet before I danced away as the creature thrashed its bladed arms. I would have been having fun if I wasn’t in a hurry to rejoin my team. It was a shame I didn’t have the time to draw the fight out. I could learn so much by fighting the Xeno knights. I made a mental note to find a scientist to study any Xeno my team managed to capture in the future, solely for our military purposes.
The mace-bug lowered its head and charged around the other who raised its blades above its head and moved to its left to cut off my escape. The other bug raised both its bladed arms above its head and made for me. I saw their trap coming again and instead of jumping or dodging, I caught the mace-bug, planted my feet, arched my back, and flipped it over my head, a feat I couldn’t have achieved before the Lakunae.
The sword-bug saw me look to my sword and stepped in front of it while still coming at me, so I immediately drew my pistol and fired, just as the mace-bug crashed into the wall behind me. I didn’t have time to see if I’d impaled it on one of the horns, but I did hear fragments of something crashing to the ground.
Meanwhile, my shot had only left a scorch mark on the sword-bug’s face. I fired three shots at its leg with the same effect. Then, it was almost on top of me.
I rotated my grip on my pistol, repositioning the slide against my forearm, and blocked its first strike. The bug was powerful, and my arm ached after the impact, but the gun held. The creature’s second strike was low. I jumped, only to realize its trick a moment later when its arm-blade stopped, rotated and lurched upward between my legs. I squatted, held my pistol below my groin, and took a hard hit that knocked me an inch into the air. But the bug was close enough for a counter.
I punched it in its face and sent it sprawling onto its back. A skittering behind me told me the mace-bug was moving again, so I dove forward into a roll, heard the woosh of air where my head had been, and retrieved Ebon before I rose back to a standing position.
The sword-bug was moving again, so I charged the mace-bug, feigned an attack from the right, and dropped to my knees as I slid between its legs. I took two swings at its right leg as I passed. The slashes had little obvious effect. The bugs were tough.
I spun, raised Ebon to a high defensive posture, and noticed something curious. My last movement had left the bugs barreling toward each other, and both were skittering and scrambling to avoid a crash. They wanted to hurt me, I realized—but they were also worried about hurting each other.
I could make use of this.
The sword-bug held the other back with an outstretched arm and the back of its left blade. I took the opportunity to test the strength of its weapon against my own and was stunned when Ebon hit its sword-like appendage and vibrated like a bell in my hands.
Both creatures lunged in to make an attack, glanced at the other, and waited for the other to proceed. I took the opportunity to strike the mace-bug’s ankle. It was a solid hit, but I only managed to gouge the armor about an inch deep. It was enough, though, to cause some orange blood to leak out.
Surrender now, and I will order them to stop. They will not harm you. If you continue, they will break you. They will cut you. They will drag your organs out of your body and consume them while you watch, they will ensure you survive to witness it. This is what they live for. Surrender now, and I will force them to show mercy.
“Not a chance, bitch,” I growled.
I charged the mace-bug and, as predicted, the sword-bug stepped further away to avoid being hit by its comrade. I raised my sword as if I was going to strike it from above. The bug raised its arms, and I slid between its legs on my knees, caught a small protrusion of its shell, and allowed my momentum to carry me up onto its back. The bug hissed—the first sound I’d heard it make—and flailed feebly at me. Its arms didn’t bend back that far, and the sword-bug wouldn’t approach. I was too close, and the mace-bug was moving too much for the sword-bug to get a good swing at me. The fight had grown too chaotic; it was afraid.
The mace-bug tried to throw me, so I wrapped my arm around its little head and pulled hard. It hissed again as its neck began to stretch. I tried to pull its head off, but I wasn’t able to get a solid grip. So, I brought Ebon around and began to saw through its hard shell.
The bug walked backward. None of the hooks or horns directly behind us were long, so I kept sawing and felt its room-temperature blood begin to flow across my arm. It wasn’t acidic, so I kept sawing.
When it jumped backward in an attempt to impale me on one or more of the spikes and hooks, I planted my foot against the wall, having already predicted the move, and kicked off. The mace-bug began to bleed heavily, and I felt the resistance against Ebon begin to lessen until it was as soft as mush. The sword-bug scrambled to get out of the way, and the mace-bug’s head came cleanly off.
I jumped clear, threw the severed head on the ground in a challenge to the survivor, and watched in horror as the mace-bug’s body continued to move. Wherever its brain was, it wasn’t in its head. It walked the circuit of the room, tapping its club against the floor, hooks, and horns. When it found something it thought was a horrible human, it smashed its claws down on it and sent bits of the room skittering across the floor.
The sword-bug didn’t give up either, but its ability to attack was severely compromised. I was in the corner to the left of the door. The mace-bug was crossing in front of the two entrances to the Queen’s chamber, and it was essentially alone and facing two opponents: me and the other bug, who had demonstrated it would attack anything nearby that moved.
I charged the mace-bug again, landed on its back, and kicked off the wall to its left. This sent my victim into the sword bug. When they made contact, the blinded mace-bug began to beat its opponent senseless. I dropped to the ground and hurried to the far side of the room to watch. The Queen scre
amed, but neither bug heard it. The sword-bug’s head was smashed most of the way into its body, and the mace-bug was dead. I finished off the first by burying Ebon in its wound to the hilt.
You have chosen the path of death. I will order my soldiers to intercept you. They will not kill you, though. You will be restrained, and they will carefully apply my fluid to you. They will begin with the—
“You’re next, bitch,” I interrupted.
I filled my mind with images of the suffering she had caused. I thought of how Skrew had almost been tortured to death, a slave and a victim of the system the Queen had put into place. Of Enra, kidnapped from the Ish-Nul, her family, and beaten by a cruel master. I thought of Reaver and Beatrix, forced to fight for the entertainment of others, and of Demetrios’s false promise of release.
A quick slash across the curtain on the left dropped strands of glue to the deck. They popped and hissed, giving off an acrid smoke as they chewed their way through. Acid, I thought. A powerful weapon, but a futile attack. I couldn’t even say it was a nice try.
Your companions blame you, the Queen whispered into my mind. One of the females is dead, and they blame you. They will kill you. I have seen to it. But I can rescue you. I can save you. Leave now, and you will see mercy. Leave now, and I will allow you to live.
I was angry, but I had it under control. I didn’t believe that her troops had killed one of the women. There were two Void-touched in the group against her soldiers. It wouldn’t be close to a fair fight, even if she threw 100 bugs at them. And, based on what I’d seen so far, she didn’t have 100 warriors left in her entire hive.
“I’m coming for you,” I said as I slashed the beaded curtain covering the left archway. It fell to the ground, and I stepped over it.
The Queen’s chamber was even more opulent than the passageway that led to it. It was 30 feet wide with a domed ceiling, and the gold-colored walls were teeming with the little red repair bugs. Most looked as though they had nothing to do, but every couple of seconds I heard a loud crack, and a few of the bugs would scurry off to take care of the new damage.
Again, the Queen was hidden. But again, I could tell where she was. There was a raised dais in the center of the small room, surrounded by a thin, white material that mimicked silk. Parts of it were tattered and had been patched so many times, it resembled the ethereal trappings of a spirit come to haunt the living. The fabric-like substance moved with an unseen breeze. Although I couldn't see how it could be possible, the material seemed to be alive.
I counted five of the flat, hairy cleaning bugs in the room as well. They meandered aimlessly as if they were hungry for waste, but there was none readily available.
The stink of the Queen’s pheromones had been bad in the hallway. In her presence, it was downright sickening. I had to work hard to keep my breathing even and steady.
I slowly became aware of the sound in the room. It blended into the background noise of the hive so well, I almost didn’t notice it. It was a buzzing, humming kind of sound, steady and even. It wasn’t the sound of beating wings, though that might have explained the moving fabric. It was something else entirely.
Do not approach. You are not worthy to be in my presence. I am a Queen. I am beautiful. I am terrible. Leave now, or I will destroy you.
“You got the terrible part right,” I said as I took another step forward.
Suddenly, the buzzing stopped. Something new was about to happen. Some last-ditch effort from the Queen. I hoped it was something good, and I hoped she was afraid.
I was disappointed when I saw a drone stick its head out of the fabric. Then I snorted.
“What?” I said. “Really?”
It turned its buggy eyes toward me and vanished back into the soft cocoon. A moment later, it fell out as if pushed and tumbled unceremoniously to the deck. From there, it stared at me, its limbs shaking in what I took to be fear. The creature looked to me, then the hidden Queen, and back to me. It looked indecisive, so I made the decision for him. I blasted it between the eyes and reholstered my pistol before all of its guts finished hitting the deck.
“I’ve had enough of the decoys, the smoke and mirrors.”
I continued to walk toward the dais. Three of the gray, leathery creatures who carried eggs and took ships apart sprang from under the fabric and attacked me. Dispatching the ugly things was child’s play. I kicked one of their bodies aside as I continued walking.
I will make you suffer. You will have never known such pain. I have 1,000 years of experience with creatures greater than you. I can keep you alive for generations. My young will feed on your regrown flesh. You will plead for death, but I will deny it to you. Nothing is beyond my wrath.
I stepped closer, savoring her panicked speech. I was no longer affected by it. I had learned to block her out. It wasn’t torture to show her the fruits of her own labor. I needed to get back to my team, but I also needed to know I’d given the creature every chance to repent and show some remorse. If she did, it would mean the Xeno could be reasoned with. If not, it would be confirmation that my plan for wholesale slaughter was sound.
Everything she said, everything I saw, every odor, and every object would be valuable to the Martians. I took it all in and did my best to commit everything to memory.
Please. I will not harm you. Allow me to live. I will move the colony. We will leave your world. We will never return. It will be as I say.
I smiled at the change of tone. This wasn’t remorse; it was begging. I jabbed Ebon through the fabric and began to slowly drag my blade through to make an entrance. It sounded like finely woven wool when it was cut, but it was as tough as woven copper.
An explosion of wind was forced out of my chest, and I was knocked back hard enough to land on my butt. The bitch hadn’t knocked the wind out of me, but she’d come close. Her words had put me at ease, had caused me to let down my guard. She was good, I had to give her that—with the insufficient tools she had at her disposal. I stood, marched back to the fabric, and in three quick slashes revealed the Queen Xeno in all her glory.
She was a huge grub, corpulent and foul. Her huge yellow gut-bag of an ass was covered in pustules and boils. It was also translucent, revealing the mass of intestines, bug-pudding, and other unidentifiable parts it contained.
A dozen little gray tenders crawled over her, lancing the cysts as three cleaning bugs lapped up what came out. If there was any of her spell left controlling my mind, the sight of the condition of Her Highness had dispelled all of it. Skrew would have had a field day trying to explain to someone else what she looked like. I almost felt bad for the vrak, too. If there was an ass he could have fit his whole rifle in, it was this one. Though it probably wouldn’t even hurt her.
Her upper half consisted of a grub-like head with a complicated mouthpart. It was mottled brown and translucent. I could see her brain inside her head. It floated, unsupported by anything except the fluid and some unseen ligaments.
The only part of her that could move was the last few feet of her clear, 30-foot abdomen. She struck out at me. A little faster than I thought, but this was a joke. I turned Ebon’s point toward her and allowed her to impale herself on it. She screamed again. It was loud, and the emotion behind it made me dizzy. One of the tenders leaped from her back at my face. I caught it with my free hand and crushed it, before I tugged on it and tossed the blubbery Queen to the ground.
“For your crimes against the people of Druma,” I said, not really caring if she could hear me above her wails, “I sentence you to death.”
I walked my blade through her body from her ass to her brain. Four steps in, the contents of her bloated abdomen splashed to the floor like a huge water balloon. Her acidic blood caused the deck to bubble and smoke. Unlike the rest of her, her blood smelled sweet—like the victory I’d just secured.
A moment later, new cracks began to form. The repair bugs had become still. They were no longer interested in repairing the hive. The place was coming apart.
&nb
sp; Chapter Twenty
With the Queen dead on the floor, there was nothing that motivated the repair bugs to keep working. Even though the hallway I hurried through was narrow, the living organisms that created gravity in the hive seemed to be confused. Gravity shifted a little now and then. Sometimes, it would pull in the direction I had gotten used to calling “down.” Then, it would shift a few degrees to the left, then back, then for an instant or two somewhere near “up.” The sensation and sound of cracks forming within the hive urged me forward.
The glowfrogs began to panic and swim about their little aquariums as if they were beginning to boil. They sensed the danger, and though I was intrigued by them, there wasn’t any time to save even one. It was a shame, but I had to get my team out and off to safety before we all died.
About halfway down the narrow passage, I had to stop to clear the way. I was grateful that the area where the rubble had fallen wasn’t open to space; otherwise, I’d be having a bad day.
All in all, I thought as I shoved some large pieces of the wall aside and crawled through the opening I’d created, the day hasn’t been terrible. I killed a bunch of Xeno—always a good thing. I killed a Queen—never a bad idea. And I had gathered an incredible amount of valuable information that would help Mars bring the Xeno to their knees.
If the Martian government could figure out how to target the controller Xeno, they’d be able to stop attacks as they began. The amount of intelligence they could gather from the hundreds or thousands of captured Xeno would help them create new weapons, defenses, and tactics. Few, if any, innocent lives would have to be lost to the Xeno ever again.
A deep rumble shook the passageway, and several groups of glowfrogs went dark. Their aquariums broke and spilled them onto the deck, where the poor creatures writhed and squirmed. Though I thought they resembled Earth-based amphibians, without their watery liquid to support them, they all but turned to gelatinous pools of mush. The fluid, it seemed, both kept them buoyant and maintained their shape.
