by M. R. Forbes
“They’re going to die,” Thraven said.
“I’ve anticipated that as well. I also left him the mainframe, with the coordinates to Kett’s location. If he passes them to Cage, she may decide to try to help the General.”
Thraven smiled, the hint of a laugh escaping before he stifled it. “You’ve done well, Evolent. Very well. It will be remembered.”
“Thank you, Gloritant. All I do, I do for the glory of the Nephilim, in anticipation of the Great Return.”
“Finish your work with the Council, and then -”
Thraven paused as Honorant Piselle returned.
“My apologies for the interruption, Gloritant,” she said. “We’ve received a comm from Machina Four.”
“This had better be important,” Thraven said.
“I believe it is, your Eminence.”
She placed another communicator on the floor beside Evolent Ruche. It turned on, and a fat Skink appeared in front of him.
“Thraven,” Gilliam said.
“That’s General Thraven,” Ruche said. “Show some respect.”
Gilliam glanced at the other projection. “Sorry. General Thraven. I just found out, Sam and his crew are dead.”
“How?”
“An old contact showed up with some other individuals a few hours ago. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but then I saw one of Sam’s transports hop up the ravine and land next to their ship. I thought it was strange, so I sent Melchor down to check it out. He came back and told me they were all dead; their heads cut clean off their bodies. Sounds fragging sick to me.” He shook his head. “I knew that woman was some kind of demon when I saw her.”
“Woman?” Thraven said.
“About this high. She was wearing a softsuit, and she had a peach fuzz of silvery hair. It looks almost like it’s made of metal. I think she’s in charge. Like a damned Demon Queen.”
“Cage,” Ruche said.
“On Machina Four,” Thraven said. “Why there, Abigail?”
“That’s not all, Thr- General. He said they found the stash under the floor. You know, the one the Republic isn’t supposed to know about? You paid me good money to keep quiet, and I haven’t said a thing. They’re loading everything onto their ship. Even those old shitbucket Devils that got dropped there. That had to be what? Fifteen years ago? They have a Gant fixing them, and a pair of pilots taking them into orbit. I guess they must have another ship up there?”
The Brimstone. Of course. It must have been damaged in their escape, and Machina Four was a good place to pause to repair and reload. If he had cared enough to consider it, he might have warned the Children that she could be coming their way.
It seemed they had found out, regardless. But what had brought Cage to them? What had caused Sam and the others to reveal themselves? He supposed he would never know.
It didn’t matter. A few old starfighters and some guns weren’t going to help her. Not when he was on the cusp of destroying General Kett and his rebels before they could mount an offensive against him. Even so, she was a variable he couldn’t predict and couldn’t control. He hadn’t spent years in preparation for the harvest to have it disrupted by her again.
“Fifty million for each member of her entourage that is disposed of,” he said. “One hundred million if anyone somehow manages to capture or kill her. Ten million to you for each kill, in payment for spreading the word.”
Gilliam’s small eyes seemed to glow in response, and he brought his hands up and rubbed them together. “It will be done, Gloritant.”
“A word of caution, Gilliam. Make sure you remove her head.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gilliam closed the link, his projection vanishing.
“You should have left her in Hell, your Eminence,” Ruche said.
“The Gift burns fiercely within her,” Thraven replied. “She will be dealt with one way or another. Either she will prostrate herself before me, she will go mad, or she will be killed. A suitable outcome whichever way it ends.”
“You aren’t concerned?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because there is no downside. And on the off-chance the individuals of Steel Town can kill her?” He paused. It was doubtful, but there was no risk in it. “Go now. Take care of the Council. Let me worry about Cage. When your business is done, we can begin preparing to mobilize our forces. We’ll take Earth without a single ship. Without a single bullet.”
“Yes, Gloritant,” Ruche said, disconnecting his link, his projection fading away.
Thraven turned away from the communicators on the floor, to where Noviant Soto was standing. She was facing him, both the table and the weight floating in the air, orbiting around her.
“I think I’m starting to get the hang of this,” she said.
21
“This one is shot, Queenie,” Gant said, poking his head up from the rear of the starfighter. “Dead on arrival.”
“Then don’t waste any more time on it,” Abbey replied. “We got four of them out.”
She scanned the underground warehouse where they had discovered the cache. Five hours and a number of trips later, the space was nearly empty, save for the single Devil, a few random crates, and the dead, smelly monster in the corner.
“Pik should be almost ready to go, too,” she added.
“I’m eager to get the hell out of here,” Gant said, hopping down from the fighter. “Nobody has said anything to us about taking the equipment out of here, and I don’t like that.”
“Jester said it’s standard operating procedure for the locals to ignore pretty much everything. Curiosity gets you killed.”
“Curiosity killed the Gant,” Bastion said, coming down the ramp. “Get it? The purring. The Gant, instead of the cat?”
“There’s no part of you that’s funny,” Gant said.
“Especially if you have to explain it,” Abbey said.
“Really? Because I crack myself up.”
“I wish you would.”
“Is she ready for me?” Bastion pointed at the Devil.
“That one isn’t coming along,” Abbey said. “Gant said it’s too beat up to fly.”
“Roger that,” Bastion said. “I’ll help Jester load the last of the crates into the hopper then. Where’s home once the big guy is out of surgery?”
“The little guy now,” Gant said. “Dak is much bigger.”
“Anywhere but here. Ruby gave Olus twenty-four hours to see if he could find the mainframe.”
“You haven’t told Jequn what you’re planning?”
“I don’t intend to.”
“She’ll figure it out sooner or later. What if she has a fit?”
“Since when do I care?” Abbey asked. “We can lock her down somewhere if we have to.”
“You’re a meanie, Queenie.” Bastion smiled.
“Gant’s right, you aren’t funny.”
“You two just have no sense of humor. That’s all.”
Bastion headed over to one of the remaining crates, lifting it easily with the help of his lightsuit. Benhil was coming down the ramp with Jequn behind him.
“I’m going to check in on Pik,” Abbey said. “Keep them in line for me, will you?”
“Aye, Queenie,” Gant said. “We should have everything packed and ready by the time you get back.”
Abbey nodded, turning and ascending the ramp out into the warehouse, threading back into the factory and out to the street. She ignored the dead Goreshin as she passed, crossing the open space, out through the gate and into the town. The area had been quiet the entire time they had been there. Were they afraid, or just actively trying to stay out of their business?
She passed a few of the residents on the way back to Phlenel. They kept their heads down as she went by, reminding her of the other inmates on Level Twenty and the way they had treated her. Fear then? She was okay with that.
She reached the storefront, eager to get off Machina Four, and at the same time n
ervous about meeting with the Hurshin again. Phlenel had said she was going to process Abbey’s form, to estimate how she would change and match that visage. What would she find inside? What was she going to become? A part of her wanted to know. A much larger part didn’t.
She stopped in front of the sealed door. She could hear the camera moving above her.
“You will enter,” the voice said.
The door unlocked.
Abbey slipped inside. The door closed again behind her. She felt her heart start to pound as Phlenel’s bot appeared in the doorway. It didn’t speak, simply turning and walking back, suggesting she follow it.
She did, trailing it to where she had left Pik.
He smiled when he saw her. “Hey, Queenie,” he said, waving with his new hand. “Check it out. It’s fragging fantastic.”
He wiggled the thick, metal fingers, and turned his wrist. Then he picked up a fragile looking glass beside him.
“I only broke four of these getting the hang of it,” he said, putting it back down. “Watch this.” He opened the hand, spreading the fingers wide. The tips hinged back, and three-inch blades popped out. “I’m like you now.” He laughed. The blades retracted and the fingertips closed. “Fragging nice.”
“Where’s Phlenel?” Abbey said.
“I will be there in a minute,” the bot said. “I’m cleaning up.”
“She didn’t change shape or anything, did she?” Abbey asked.
“I dunno. I only woke up a few minutes ago. She wasn’t in here. Gerald was helping me with the hand.”
“Gerald?” Abbey said.
“That’s what I’m calling it. Phlenel said it doesn’t have a name.”
“Why Gerald?”
“Why not?”
Abbey shrugged. “I thought you might have a reason.”
“I think I killed a guy named Gerald once,” Pik said. “Maybe that’s where I got it.”
“How many individuals have you killed?” Abbey asked.
She knew it had to be more than one. Other comments he had made led her to believe it was a lot more than one.
“You’re asking me why I was in Hell?” Pik said. He smiled. “I’m innocent. I never hurt anybody.”
Abbey rolled her eyes, and he laughed.
“Captain Mann didn’t tell you?”
“He didn’t get around to it.”
“You heard of the New London massacre?”
Abbey raised her eyebrow.
“I can see you have,” he said. “Yeah, that was me.”
Over one hundred innocent civilians gunned down in a rampage. Abbey felt cold. Was that why Olus hadn’t told her about Pik’s history?
“Why did you do it?”
“The Republic had me on one of their Death Squads. You know, the ones they claim don’t exist? They used to send us to Republic planets near the Fringe. We’d go in late at night and make some trouble, and then they would blame it on the Outworlds. I shit you not, Queenie. The Republic had us kill our own. Not just soldiers. Innocents, too. My commander used to say they had to keep the tension up, keep the media interested, keep the money flowing into the military. There was always a part of me that knew it was wrong, but you know how they treat grunts. Or maybe you don’t. They broke us. They wiped our minds. They made us into heartless machines. We only heard one voice. The voice of our commander. Sergeant Bones. He was a Terran. Meanest frag I’ve ever met. I think they pulled him out of Hell to lead the Squad.”
His eyes grew distant. He stopped talking.
“Anyway,” he said, breaking out of it. “I was on Terra Two on leave, just hanging out, taking in the nightlife there. Something happened to my brain. I cracked. I lost it. I don’t know. It’s like there was a glitch in their programming. All I heard was Bones’ voice screaming at me. ‘Don’t stand there like a fragging baby, Corporal Pik. These fraggers want to take away the security of the Republic. They want to put the life of everyone you care about in danger. You shoot them, and you do it now!’”
He looked over at her. He had tears in his eyes.
“So I did. I was in Hell for almost a year before I started to regret it. I don’t know how Captain Mann knew about that. I don’t think he would have let me out if he thought I would crash like that again.”
Abbey stared at him in shock. She had heard rumors of the Death Squads, but they had never been more than that. Could the Republic do something like that?
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s possible Thraven was behind the Squads. Keeping tensions between the Outworlds and the Republic certainly benefitted him.”
“Does it matter?” Pik asked. “I killed one hundred twenty six people in New London. I killed over a thousand in those raids. I’m a killer, Queenie. That’s all I’m good for. That’s all I am.”
“Bullshit,” Abbey said. “No, it doesn’t matter whether Thraven’s goons assembled the Squads or not. What does matter is that you have remorse. That you give a shit about what you did. You’re here now. You’re a Reject. You’re one of mine. We protect innocents.”
“You were going to let me kill Mars Eagan.”
Abbey blanched. “I know. I’ve made a few mistakes, too. I should never have let you take the weight of that decision for me. If I had to do it again, I can’t say I wouldn’t make the same call, but I would do it myself. It would be my burden to bear.”
“It’s okay, Queenie. You’re doing the best you can with a shitty situation.”
“So are you.”
“Affirmative.”
There was movement at the back of the room. Pik glanced over, his expression changing. Abbey tried to read it, finding it difficult to translate. Was it fear? Disgust? Interest? She knew she would have to look for herself. She had to stop being such a baby. The Gift was already inside of her. It was already changing her. Seeing what she might become wasn’t going to stop that. Nothing could, except perhaps getting her hands on the other half.
Maybe she could on Kell.
She turned slowly, ready to accept whatever she saw. It was only the Hurshin’s guess, anyway. That didn’t mean Phlenel was right.
She was bigger than before, nearly half a meter taller. Her head was larger, with ridges extending from her forehead in twin points like a pair of horns. There were other ridges all along her body, similar to the ones on the Nephilim in the warehouse. Her hands were both claws, her feet the same. Her breasts were modest to begin with, but on the Hurshin they were almost gone. A long tail with a spike at the end swished back and forth behind her.
“You have a tail,” Pik said. “That’s so fragging cool.”
“It is not a convenient form,” Phlenel said, moving the fingers. “There is no precision with these.”
Her voice was muffled when she spoke. Abbey realized it was because she had fangs.
“That is not cool,” Abbey said. “Not cool at all.”
“Aww, come on, Queenie. You look like you could stomp me like that.”
“That isn’t human,” she said. “I want to stay human.”
She would find the other half of the Gift. She would stop the change. Somehow.
“The augmentation is complete,” Phlenel said. “The Trover requested the blade mechanism. It is an extra five thousand.”
Abbey was glad to have a reason to take her eyes off Phlenel. She didn’t want to see herself like that. Ever. She glared at Pik. “Five thousand?”
Pik held up the hand, extending the blades again. “But it’s so cool.”
She pulled the payment card from her pocket and let the bot scan it.
“You’re one thousand short,” Phlenel said.
“Damn it, Pik,” Abbey said. “I can barter. That’s all the money I have.”
Phlenel’s body lit up like lightning in a bottle.
“What do you have?” she asked. Then she paused. “One moment.”
A projection appeared in the room, provided by the bot’s left eye. Someone was at her door. Abbey recognized them as one of Gilliam’s lac
keys.
“What is it?” the bot said, the voice coming out of the speaker at the front.
“I wanted to let you know. There’s a bounty on the newcomers. The bitch in the armor and her friends. Fifty million for them, one hundred for her. Dead or alive. We’re splitting into shares if you help out.”
Phlenel didn’t have eyes, but Abbey could still sense the Hurshin observing her.
“What the frag?” Pik said.
“My sentiment exactly,” Abbey replied.
“There’s a group headed down to Sam’s factory if you want in.”
Abbey stared at Phlenel. Pik stood up, covering the bot.
“Go away,” the bot said.
Gilliam’s goon hurried away from the door.
“You’re safe in here,” Phlenel said. “You will remain.”
“Thanks, but my team is out there,” Abbey replied. “I can’t stay.”
“Then I will help you.”
“Why would you do that?”
The bot began playing back part of her conversation with Pik. The part where she told him he wasn’t just a killer.
“Most go to far places to escape their demons,” Phlenel said. “Perhaps I was waiting for a demon to find me.”
Abbey wasn’t sure what that meant, but she wasn’t about to argue. Not with a lynch mob headed for the rest of the Rejects.
“Can you fight?” she asked. She didn’t know enough about Hursans to know what they were capable of.
“Watch me,” Phlenel replied.
Two compartments opened up on the sides of the bot, and a pair of guns emerged. The bot took them in its hands.
“Follow me,” she said.
The bot led them out. The door opened ahead of them, and they stepped out into the street. There were fifty or so residents of Steel Town nearby, funneling toward the larger group that was on its way to the warehouse.
“There she is,” someone shouted, drawing the group’s attention their way.
Abbey found the Uin, picking it out of a tightpack and snapping it open. She resisted the urge to call on the Gift, though she could feel it responding to the danger. She wasn’t going to use it unless she had to.
“Gant,” she said.
“What’s wrong, Queenie?” Gant replied.
