by Finn Gray
“I can’t believe it,” Val groaned. “She hadn’t been my guard for all that long, but still, I never suspected her of...”
“Of what? Being a Memnon?” It was the only thing that made sense.
“But what would the Memnons gain from kidnapping us?” Val asked. “Our entire family is preaching the message of tolerance and acceptance, Grandfather included. We aren’t their enemies.”
“That doesn’t mean there’s nothing they want from Grandfather. At a minimum they’d like official recognition of the Memnon church, and persuading Grandfather would be half the battle won. Kidnapping us provides leverage.”
“I don’t know. Maybe. But it seems like they’d have vetted Marion before they assigned her to me.”
“Obviously not. Or at least not well.” Lina let out a grunt of pain as she tried to shift into a more comfortable position.
“Maybe it’s not the Memnons,” Val continued. “Could be a rival family.”
“Like Simon’s family?” It was a measure of her anger, pain, and sadness that Lina could make such an unfounded accusation so freely, especially when she and Val were just beginning to talk again. Her conscience brought her up short. “I’m sorry, Val. I’m just devastated. Carlos was...”
“I know.” Val’s flat tone betrayed no hint of anger. “Believe it or not, when I first woke up I actually considered the possibility that Simon might be involved, but I don’t see where it gets him. Besides, he does love me, no matter what you might think.”
“I believe you.” Lina wasn’t sure she meant it, but it seemed the right thing to say at the moment.
The lights came on, elevating the pain in Lina’s head to new heights. She closed her eyes for a few seconds then opened them again. They were indeed in what appeared to be a small cargo hold. Good thing it was heated, or else they might not have survived the journey. Someone had splinted her ankle. Ignoring the flood of pain, she twisted around until she’d worked herself up into a sitting position.
Two masked men in black coveralls stepped inside.
“Afraid to show yourselves?” Val said. “I ought to rip those masks off of you, cowards!”
Lina said nothing. Any chance of being safely ransomed would probably evaporate should the princesses see their abductors’ faces.
The men ignored Val’s words. They hastily covered the girls’ heads with hoods, grabbed them, and hauled them to their feet.
“My ankle,” Lina grunted, shifting her weight to the other foot. “It’s broken. I can’t stand on it.” She felt someone hook an arm around her waist, taking on her weight.
“I’ll need some help here,” her unseen aide rasped, clearly trying to disguise his voice.
A few seconds later she felt someone grab her on the other side and the two lifted her off her feet. She kept her silence, even when they banged her foot on the floor, sending sparks of pain burning up her leg. She felt the air pressure change and knew they’d taken her off the transport. The quality of the sounds around her changed too, footsteps echoed dully, and she sensed they were in a large space.
“The cameras between here and the auxiliary barracks will malfunction in ten seconds, Lieutenant,” someone said. “You’ll have two minutes...”
“Shut your mouth,” one of her captors barked. “Have you forgotten?”
Lina considered this bit of new information. So they’d been captured by the military, or at least elements within the military. They had landed on a ship large enough for a transport to dock. Probably one of the battlecruisers that orbited Thetis. And on the heels of that thought came another.
Simon commands a battlecruiser.
Suspicion rose anew. She didn’t know whether or not Simon was a Memnon but his family’s rivalry with hers was not in doubt. Just because Val couldn’t see what kidnapping them would gain her lover, that didn’t mean he wasn’t behind it. And then another thought struck her—what if Val was somehow in on it? She, Simon, and Marion could have cooked up a scheme together. Maybe that was the thing Val hadn’t been sure she could do. Lina hated thinking that of her sister, but possibilities now flooded her mind in a torrent. When they were on the slope, perhaps Marion had hung back so that she didn’t accidentally get caught in the gunfire that felled Carlos. Val might be lying about her shoulder injury. Gods, she might not have even been unconscious. Perhaps it was all just a ruse to make Lina believe they were both victims. If Lina thought they were both in danger, then threatening to harm Val would make for an effective tool with which to convince Lina to cooperate. It made a certain sense.
They were rushed down a series of corridors until they finally came to a halt. Lina heard a door slide back and felt herself lifted once again and then dumped unceremoniously on a lumpy bed. One of the abductors removed her hood and stuffed it inside his jumpsuit. Next, he removed the bonds from her wrists. She immediately felt a sense of relief. But it was short-lived. The man took out a pair of cuffs, snapped one around her wrist and the other to a post at the head of the bed. She glanced over to see Lina receive the same treatment.
“Can you cuff the other wrist?” Val asked. “This one got all banged up on the slope.”
Her captor gave a small shrug. “Whatever.”
When he leaned down to switch the cuff, Val suddenly clawed at his masked face. “Bastard!” she snarled.
The man caught her by the wrist and slapped her hard. “Try that again and you’ll pay.”
“The hells I will. You need us as hostages or else you’d have murdered us like you did Carlos.”
“I don’t know who Carlos is,” the man said in a bored voice, “but we only need you alive. What condition you’re in isn’t of great concern.” His words temporarily quelled her resistance, and she lay back meekly on the bed as he cuffed her wrist in place.
Lina couldn’t help but wonder was it real, or all for show? Her suspicions of Val threatened to overwhelm her.
As their abductors backed up to the door, Val began to scream.
“Help us! We’ve been kidnapped! Help!”
“Don’t bother. You’re in a remote part of the ship. No one will hear you,” the man who’d slapped Val said loud enough to be heard.
Val stopped shrieking, apparently believing him. Or was it another part of the charade?
“What ship is this?” Lina asked, hoping someone would slip up and answer her question. None of them took the bait.
“It doesn’t matter,” the man said. “But I warn you, if you scream for help again or otherwise make noise, we’ll gag you. None of us want to listen to your caterwauling. Just remain calm. Someone will be along later to take you to the head and feed you. If you behave yourselves, we might be able to arrange some pain meds for you. Just don’t give us any trouble and you might get out here alive.”
The men turned and left the room, leaving the word might hanging in the air behind them.
Chapter 23
Sonohari Desert
Hyperion
A BROAD EXPANSE of orange-brown desert lay before them. Patches of green, low-growing plants he couldn’t name dotted the landscape. In the hazy distance loomed a dark plateau—their destination. Rory looked up at the cornflower blue sky and took a few deep, calming breaths. This was it. Make it through and they’d be marines.
He checked his rifle for what felt like the hundredth time. After months of training, the sergeants had drilled it into his mind that a properly functioning weapon meant the difference between life and death. That and a thousand other things.
“You need to chill.” Cassidy flicked a disapproving glance his way. “If you act nervous, your squad will pick up on it, and they’ll get nervous. You know what that means.”
“The difference between focus and distraction is the difference between life and death,” he recited in a poor imitation of Clancy’s voice.
Beside him, Jemma laughed. Things hadn’t really changed between them since her revelation that she had been raised a Memnon and considered herself one by birth, though not by faith. She insist
ed that she remained loyal to Aurora and that she disapproved of many of the opinions and methods advanced by the extremists of the movement. Like most, she held out hope for acceptance and equal treatment for all Aurorans, including Memnons. That had been good enough for Rory, especially since he couldn’t deny he was falling in love with the girl.
“The quality of leadership is what really makes the difference.” Marson stood a few paces away, a surly expression fixed on his face. To his chagrin, he hadn’t been assigned leadership of a squad for this, their final challenge before graduation. “Which means we’re screwed.”
“He’s still pissed,” Cassidy whispered. “He thought he was going to be a squad leader.”
“I thought just about everyone in this group was going to lead a squad,” Rory said. He looked around at his squad. It was nearly identical to the group that had won the obstacle course race, except for Marson, Sid, and a recruit named Itoi, who had replaced the three weakest members of Rory’s squad.
“You’re right,” Cassidy said. “We’ve got the best of the best, plus you and Jemma.”
“I guess we’re a notch above,” Jemma said.
Cassidy’s shoulders twitched in what might have been a tiny, forced laugh. Her smile evaporated as a look of suspicion filled her eyes. “Where do you think we are, anyway?”
“I don’t know,” Rory said. “We were in the transport a long time. How fast can those things go?”
Cassidy shook her head, her expression grave. “I’ll bet they’re up to something.”
“Like what?” Rory asked.
“I don’t know. You said we’re the best of the best. Maybe this is a dry run and, after it’s over, they’re going to assign us squads and make us do it all again.” She lowered her voice. “Or maybe we’re the ones they want to get rid of.”
“Why would they want that?” Jemma’s voice betrayed a note of concern.
“We’re too strong. Too independent. The corps wants sheep that meekly follow orders.”
“No way,” Rory said. “They want us to follow orders, sure, but they also want hard chargers who can take the initiative and seize the moment.”
Cassidy put a hand on Rory’s shoulder. “I hate to tell you this, but there’s no bonus pay for spouting clichés.”
“Whatever.” Rory rolled his eyes, grinning. “But how would they get rid of us? We’ve got the live rounds; not the enemy.”
The enemy, in this case, consisted of automated weapons emplacements, drones, and mechs. All fired weak lasers designed to trigger the specialized body armor all the recruits wore. The suit recognized when the wearer was hit, and was programmed to restrict mobility in accordance with the severity. Suffer enough damage and the suit eventually immobilized you.
“I don’t know,” Cassidy said. “I just don’t like it.”
“All right, recruits,” Clancy’s voice sounded inside Rory’s helmet, “complete this course and you will have completed all the prerequisites for induction into the Imperial Marines. Remember, even though your enemies will not be using live ammunition, your fellow squad members will. Friendly fire will kill you just as dead as enemy fire.”
Cassidy nodded sagely. Apparently she was getting the audio, too. Maybe Clancy hadn’t given up on making her a squad leader. “That means you, Jones,” she whispered.
“Your mission will begin in one minute.” With that final declaration, Clancy fell silent.
Rory’s HUD sprang to life; a series of readouts in bright green ran across the top of the transparent shield in front of his eyes.
“Fire teams form up!” he barked.
The group immediately split into three and moved to their preassigned positions behind cover. Rory didn’t know if they would face enemy fire right away, but he figured it was a good idea to play it safe. Rory had four recruits under his command, with Jemma running point for their team of four. He’d assigned Monk and Sid to handle the second fire team, with a coin toss putting Monk at the fore. The final group was led by Marson. Rory hated the young man, but Marson was a good soldier and tolerable leader in the field. Still, he’d deputized Cassidy to keep an eye on him.
Hunkered down behind cover, the recruits watch the countdown to action on their HUDs.
Three... two... one...
At zero, Rory had expected, he wasn’t sure what, but something other than the silence that greeted them. He scanned the open landscape. Nothing moved.
“Let’s move out,” he said. “Heads on a swivel.”
The squads set out at a trot, moving in the direction of the plateau. They’d gone about one hundred meters when Rory caught a glint of sunlight on metal. “Everybody down!” he barked. “Monk, two o’clock!”
Off to the right, a figure rose from behind a boulder. It was a grotesque representation of a human, its face half flesh and half metal. Rory had a moment to realize it was supposed to be a Memnon before gunfire from Monk’s team blasted it and it fell backward.
“That was too easy,” Rory said. “Don’t be lulled into a false sense of security.”
No sooner had the words come out than a pair of drone soared in, flying low, their mock-weapons flashing. “Marson, you’ve got left,” he ordered, raising his rifle to take the one on the right. He didn’t want his squad expending its ammunition by having everyone fire at every target that presented itself. That might become necessary later, but not when they faced only one or two enemies at a time.
He took aim and squeezed the trigger. Down went the drone. Marson needed two shots to take his out, but Rory praised him none the less. “Nice job. Let’s move on. Keep to cover where you can.”
Two hours later, they’d taken out several drones and a dozen mannequins in the shape of Memnons and aliens. In turn, they’d lost one squad member—Vega, who comprised the “Wig” half of the “Big Wig” tandem. He’d been taken out by a fake Memnon that had sprung up from a rock formation Marson’s squad hadn’t adequately reconned. His suit had frozen up on him immediately, locking his legs so he could not walk.
“At least drag me into the shade,” he said, regret clouding his face. “I can’t believe I got this far and didn’t make it to graduation.”
“They’ll pass you,” Cassidy assured as she and Rory placed him in a seated position, back resting against a boulder. “They just want you to think you might fail. That way you’re sure to do your best. People start screwing around out here and someone gets hurt.”
Relieved, Wig smiled and took a swig from his canteen.
“Stay hydrated but don’t overdo it,” Rory warned. “It might be a while before they pick you up and you don’t want to piss your suit.”
Wig’s smile evaporated as he capped his canteen. “You guys have fun out there.”
“Same to you.” Rory clapped him on the shoulder, turned, and headed back to his squad.
“Is that true?” he asked Cassidy in a low voice as they returned to the others. “Does everyone pass?”
“No idea. But either way, there’s nothing he can do to change it right now, so why give him one more reason to be miserable while he sits in the desert and waits for pickup?”
Rory gave her an approving nod. “You really would make a good leader.”
“I will be some day. But not in the corps.”
Rory wanted to ask what she meant, but he wasn’t certain he wanted to know the answer. In any case, they had a mission to complete. He moved Jones from his own fire team to Marson’s, giving the squad three teams of four.
“We’re still in good shape,” he said through his comm. “We didn’t expect to make it all the way through without a loss.” That was untrue. He’d wanted to come through this unscathed and felt the sting of Marson’s failure to properly scout. “But that was sloppy. We have got to keep our eyes open or we’ll lose more than just Wig.”
Suffering their first casualty seemed to sharpen the squad’s focus. They sliced through the next obstacle, a swarm of grotesque, spider-like creatures that came charging up out of an arr
oyo, with ease.
“Boys and girls, I think we’re getting a handle on this,” Jones proclaimed as they left the twitching spiders behind.
“Don’t get cocky,” Rory warned. He had prepared a brief lecture on the importance of focus, but before he could launch into it, a blinding flash in the distance drew everyone’s attention.
“What the hells was that?” Monk asked, rubbing her eyes.
“It’s not part of the course,” Marson said, “it’s too far away.”
They all turned to look in the direction from which the flash had come.
“Oh my gods,” Sid exclaimed.
A column of fire and smoke rose on the horizon, its top billowing out like the head of a mushroom.
“That’s a nuke,” Rory said in disbelief. He stared at it, momentarily forgetting that they were in the middle of a mission. As he watched, far off in the distance, scarcely visible over the horizon, a second mushroom cloud blossomed.
“Another one,” Cassidy whispered. “At first I thought, hoped, that it was fake. Just something to distract us, but what would be the point, especially that far off?”
“I don’t understand what’s happening.” Monk’s voice trembled.
Jemma let out a low groan and squeezed her eyes closed. She ripped off her helmet, flung it on the ground, and gave it a kick. One hand pressed to the base of her skull, grimacing in pain, she began to pace.
“It’s the Memnons,” Marson said. “It’s got to be.”
“Let’s not be hasty,” Rory said. “I’m sure if something was going on with the Memnon’s we’d be notified.” He tapped his helmet on the spot just above his ear for emphasis. “Until we hear something definitive, let’s focus on completing the course. I know it’s unlikely but there’s a chance those explosions are somehow a part of our test. I think...”
He didn’t get to finish the thought, because at that moment, Jemma raised her rifle, took aim at his head, and fired.
Chapter 24
Battlecruiser Dragonfly
