by M. R. Forbes
"Have they stopped giving chase?" Donovan asked.
They had seen the fortress floating in orbit when daylight had come. They had watched two of the starfighters fly up to it, and a short time later it had left. They all knew it was following the Magellan.
"A trap?" Soon asked. "Maybe they're waiting for us in the base?"
"No," Ehri said. "The bek'hai don't fight like that. They won't hide underground. I believe this is a sign of respect. The Domo'dahm is allowing you to return to your home."
"How nice of him," Diaz said.
"Of course, they will be monitoring the area. He'll want to know when you do return. They will probably give you a small head start before following."
"Is it us he respects?" Donovan asked. "Or you?"
"We destroyed a mechanized armor and a fighter, as well as a squad of Hunters. It is all of us, Major. We have earned our way here."
"Do you think he'd be willing to give me my brother back?" Diaz asked.
"Your brother is very intelligent and very handsome. I believe he will become a pur'hai."
"Pur'hai?"
"A template for cloning. It is the easiest life a human can have among the bek'hai if that is any consolation."
"It isn't," Diaz said.
"Okay, quiet time," Donovan said. "We need to get across the open area to that rubble as fast as possible. Soon, if you want to stay here, we can rendezvous back at this spot."
"I can run. My head can wait."
Donovan nodded. "Let's move."
They charged across the field at a sprint. Donovan kept his eyes on the sky, watching for signs of incoming fighters. Diaz scanned the ground, while Ehri and Soon took up the rear. Soon was slower than Donovan would have liked, but he managed to stay on his feet and running until he caught up to them at a blown-out wall.
"I should have spent more time in the gym," Soon whispered, breathing hard.
"You made it; that's all that matters," Ehri replied, also keeping her voice low.
Donovan put his finger to his lips. Then he moved to the corner of the building and tracked his vision across the street. He knew Wilcox as soon as he saw her, laying on her back with a gaping wound in her chest.
He felt a pang of sadness and forced himself to swallow it. He had to worry about the ones who might still be alive. He used hand gestures to lead them around the corner, making a zig-zag pattern from cover to cover through the city.
They paused when a distant rumble sounded.
"Diaz, can you get eyes on whatever is making that noise?" Donovan said.
Diaz nodded, running across the street and scaling a pile of debris. The rumbling remained distant until it faded completely. Diaz returned a moment later.
"Some kind of Dread ship," she said.
"What did it look like?" Ehri asked.
"Long, narrow. Lots of spikes or points or something."
"A transport. Which direction was it headed?"
"Northeast."
"What does it mean?" Donovan asked.
"I'm not sure," Ehri said. "The transport can hold up to one thousand soldiers, both clones and drumhr. The Domo'dahm may be seeking to accelerate his conquest of the resistance now that we have threatened the status quo."
Donovan tried not to think about how many humans that single ship was going to be responsible for killing. It was harder to do when a second rumble echoed across the sky, matching the first. A third followed a moment later.
"I'm afraid that escalation is the most likely cause," Ehri said.
"There's nothing we can about that right now," Donovan said.
He brought them the remaining distance to the pile of rubble that had once hidden the silo. It had been blasted aside, leaving a gaping hole that revealed the depth of the missile tube. There were no bodies at the bottom. He hoped that meant the Dread had decided not to go down.
"Diaz, I need you stay up here to keep watch."
"Me?" Diaz said, reacting to the request. "Why me? Why not Ehri?"
"Diaz," Donovan barked softly. "That's an order, Lieutenant."
She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. "Order? The military is gone, amigo. We're nothing but a pair of kids who are in way over our heads. That was my home, too."
Donovan felt himself getting angry. She was choosing a lousy time to be difficult. "Ehri, stay and keep watch with Diaz. Soon and I will go down."
"Yes, Major," Ehri said. Diaz scowled but knew better than to complain again.
"What do you say, Captain?" Donovan asked.
"Lead the way," Soon replied.
EIGHTEEN
"Your Lieutenant seems to be a bit of a spitfire," Soon said as they descended the silo.
"Renata? She wears her heart on her sleeve. Sometimes that's a good thing. Sometimes it isn't. That's why I left her up there. After losing her brother, she might not react well to finding everyone else dead or gone. I need her rational."
"A good assessment of the situation. You trust her to be alone with the clone?"
"Ehri can take care of herself."
"I meant, do you trust the clone?"
"Yes. With my life." He remembered the kiss he had shared with Ehri. There hadn't been any time to explore that any further. Maybe one day. "She saved our lives, and yours."
"I don't mean to be ungrateful, Major. We know so little about the situation down here. So little about them. We're raised knowing that they stole our home and killed billions of our people. That alone is enough to inspire hate and mistrust."
"It isn't any different down here. But it's harder to hate something once you know it personally. Once you can relate to it."
"That is true."
"And believe me, I won't hesitate to kill any of the Dread that I have to in order to get our planet back. What Ehri says about freeing the clones is all well and good, but it isn't my top priority."
"I'm glad to hear that, Major."
They reached the base of the silo. The heavy lead door that was supposed to protect them was hanging open; the locks sawed off by a plasma beam.
"So much for them not coming down here," Donovan said, feeling his stomach drop. He didn't want to lose his mother. Not after everything they had endured.
He had a second Dread rifle slung over his shoulder. He lifted it and handed it to Soon. "Ehri said they won't ambush us down here, but just in case she's wrong. Shoot at all of them if you have to."
Soon took the rifle, running his hand along it. "I can't believe I can kill them with this. I've never killed anything before."
"Remember that it's them or us. Don't let it be us."
"Yes, sir."
Donovan stared at the half-open doorway for a moment. His heart was racing, his nerves tense. He breathed out heavily and then made his way into the base.
He clenched his teeth at the sight of Captain Reyes crumpled in the corner, his neck clearly broken. A woman's body was a few feet back, her neck bruised. Choked to death. She looked like she had been trying to run.
"Brutal," Soon said, the sadness in his voice tangible.
"More than it had to be," Donovan agreed.
They kept going, moving through the long corridor that connected the silo with the living area. There were no other bodies in it. There were also no scorch marks or bullet fragments. He realized why when he reached the end.
The few who had remained inside the base had barricaded the door. Then they had tried to escape through it. The Dread had come at them from behind, somehow finding another way in. Had the bek'hai discovered the path they had taken out?
He felt his heart jump. His mother was supposed to take the children that way. Had she tried? Had they found her? He was tempted to rush to the hidden passage behind General Rodriguez's office. He didn't. He had to be careful and do things right.
There were six corpses right at the barricade, all of them killed with blunt force trauma, thrown or crushed or beaten. It was an ugly way to die. An unnecessary way to die. Why had the Dread done it? What did
they have to gain through the violence?
Ehri said the Domo'dahm respected them, but he didn't see that. He saw the Dread Leader taunting them, teasing them, showing them how weak and small and unimportant humans were. Not even important enough to waste plasma energy on.
They worked their way through the halls. Donovan kept his ears open for signs of activity. There was no sound. The silo was a tomb.
He finally reached the General's office. The door was hanging open slightly, the base's lights revealing little. Donovan could barely breathe, his body was so tense, his heart racing so fast. In the back of his mind, he knew what he was going to find. He knew she was going to be dead. That they were all going to be dead.
"I can check it if you want," Soon whispered.
Donovan was tempted. He shook his head. "I have to."
"Okay."
He led with the front of the rifle, using it to push the door open the rest of the way. His heart sunk to see that the door to the passage was open, though there were no bodies directly inside. He started toward it.
A gunshot sounded from somewhere deeper inside the base.
It was followed by three more.
NINETEEN
Donovan stared at the opening to the passage for a few seconds before turning. Someone was in here, alive, and they were shooting at something.
"Come on," he said, rushing past Soon and down the corridor.
"Where?" Soon said.
Donovan wasn't sure. The shots were muffled, only obvious because of the overall silence of the base. It had sounded like they came from further down.
He reached the steps, pausing before opening the door. He needed more. Another sound. The base was too big to find the source quickly without it.
It was probably too late already.
He closed his eyes. Silence. He would have to guess. Someone had been alive in here. Who might it be?
He entered the stairwell, descending as fast as he could, Soon close behind him. He reached the second floor, stopping at the nursery and peering in through the small window. Empty. He hurried down the hallway, heading for the infirmary.
A large shape turned the corner ahead of him. For a split-second, he thought it was a bek'hai Hunter in powered armor, it was so big. He almost fired without thinking.
The shape gained focus. A man, muscular, with dark skin and big eyes. He was bleeding from his shoulder, and had a pistol in his hand.
A Dread weapon.
Donovan threw himself to the side, shoving Soon with his shoulder at the same time. The clone's attack missed, the plasma strike going wide. Donovan stumbled back the other direction, keeping the clone's attention. It tracked him calmly, taking the time to aim.
A bolt from the other side of the corridor caught it in the chest. It grunted but didn't fall, finally taking the shot.
It hit the wall right next to Donovan's head, the aim thrown just enough by Soon's attack. That was the only shot it was able to fire, as four more bolts burned into it in rapid succession. The clone fell face down and didn't move.
"Thanks," Donovan said, looking over at Soon.
The pilot was shaking, his eyes stuck on the dead clone, his weapon still raised and ready to shoot again.
"Damn," Soon said, swallowing hard. He lowered the rifle. "They look just like us."
"They are us. Copies of us. Stay alert. There may be more." Donovan approached the clone.
It was wearing a rough spun green shirt and pants, similar to the simple fatigues the resistance soldiers usually wore. It was barefoot too, intended to look like a rebel fighter. It was no one that Donovan recognized.
"So much for not ambushing us down here," he said. Ehri had been wrong about the Domo'dahm's intentions.
Soon scanned the corridor, keeping the rifle ready. He had passed the most important test with flying colors, even if it had left him unsteady.
Donovan reached under the clone, grabbing the pistol and examining it. He hadn't seen such a small plasma weapon before. It didn't seem as powerful as the rifle, but it was more than enough to kill a human, and likely easy to conceal. Of course, it was locked.
"Somebody shot him," Soon said.
"It was coming from the infirmary," Donovan said. It was leaving, which meant whoever had shot it was most likely dead. He hoped not.
They hurried to the area, finding the medical equipment in disarray, the exam table on its side. There was blood on the ground, the clone's fresh blood. There was a second spread of still wet blood on the back wall, the pattern disrupted by a now-closed door.
"Who's in there?" Donovan said, trying to keep his voice low. He approached the door cautiously. "Doctor Iwu?"
He heard motion behind the door. He knocked softly.
"Doctor Iwu? Is that you? It's Donovan Peters."
The door clicked and opened. Doctor Iwu was standing behind it, holding General Rodriguez's gun in her hand.
"Donovan? You're alive." Her face hardened. "I need your help."
She lowered the gun, turning on her heel and heading back. Donovan followed behind her.
General Rodriguez was laying across her desk, his shirt torn off, his stomach bleeding beneath a heavy bandage.
"General?" Donovan said.
Rodriguez's head turned slowly. He smiled when he saw Donovan. "Donovan. Thank God."
"Donovan, I need you to keep pressure on the wound," Iwu said, pushing past him. "Excuse me," she said to Soon, who filed into the room.
"What's going on?" Donovan said. He turned around, watching Iwu search the cabinets for tools.
"The plasma bolt tore through his internals," Iwu said. "Either we sew them back together and pray, or he dies." She found what she was looking for and headed back into the room. "Did you kill the Dread soldier?"
"Yes," Donovan said. "General, where's everyone else?"
"I don't know," Rodriguez said, his voice barely more than a whisper. It was obvious he was having trouble breathing.
"Keep pressure here," Iwu said, pointing. She laid the tools out on the desk next to the General. Donovan did as she said. "You." Iwu looked at Soon. "When I ask for bandages, they're over there."
Soon found them. "Yes, ma'am."
"They were supposed to double back," Rodriguez continued. "Nobody came."
"I came," Iwu said.
"How long?" Donovan asked.
"Three hours. After the Dread cleared out."
"Except it wasn't clear," Donovan said. "The clone."
"It was clear," Iwu said, taking one of the tools and lifting the bandage. "There's too much blood." She was angry.
"It followed me back here," Rodriguez said. "I thought I had lost them. An entire squad of clones, plus that one. I've never seen a clone like that before." It took him ten breaths to say it, and he growled in pain when he was done.
"Me neither," Donovan said.
"Can you stop talking?" Iwu said to Rodriguez. "It makes it worse."
"It thought I was dead," Rodriguez said. "That's why it left. It didn't know the Doc was here."
"I said shut up," Iwu said. "You're going to die."
"Where's the rest of the squad?" Donovan asked.
"Don't know. You didn't see them?"
Donovan glanced over at Soon, who nodded and left the room.
"Who is that?" Rodriguez said. Iwu had moved back into the exam room, searching for something.
"Captain Soon Kim. He's a pilot from the space force. His fighter crashed. We saved him."
"You accomplished your mission?"
"Yes, sir."
"Suction. I need suction, damn it," Iwu said from the other room.
"I'm going to die, Major. There's nothing she can do about it now, even if she's too pig-headed not to try."
"Are they all dead?" Donovan asked. "The other resistance soldiers?"
"They didn't come back, except for you. They better be." He tried to laugh. It turned into a gurgling cough. Iwu came back into the room.
"Christian, you need to stop tal
king," Iwu said.
"Forget it, Nailah," Rodriguez said. "Even if you patch me, I can't move like this. You need to get out of here."
"I can't just leave you."
"You have to. It isn't safe. Donovan, I'm sorry. Your mom is probably dead. It's my fault. It was a bad plan."
Donovan ignored the pang of sadness. He didn't want to hear Rodriguez tell him what he already knew. "It wasn't, General. We did the best we could. We got the weapon to General St. Martin. That's the best we could have hoped for."
"It is. Thanks to you, Diaz, and Matteo. Thank you, Donovan."
"Major," Soon said, rushing into the room. "We've got company."
"Nailah, you have to go with them."
Doc Iwu looked pained, but she nodded. "You're a good man, Christian."
"You're a good woman. That's why I want you to stay alive."
She leaned down, kissing him on the mouth. "I always wanted to do that," she said.
"You should have said so sooner. Give me my gun."
She handed him his gun. He lifted himself to his feet, using the desk to stay up.
"Go. Donovan, try to make your way back to the States. There's a resistance base in Texas. At least, there was as of a few weeks ago. Austin. Look for the broken angel. The access code is one forty-three, twelve. It's a long way, but I know you can make it. Get the weapon to them in case the Gator doesn't make it back."
"Yes, sir," Donovan said.
"Major," Soon said.
"Goodbye, General," Donovan said.
"Adios, Donovan," Rodriguez replied. "Take care of yourself."
Donovan took Iwu's arm, pulling her gently out of the room, joining Soon and heading out into the hallway. He could hear the motion now. It sounded like the soldiers were headed their way.
"Go that way," Rodriguez said, stumbling through the door behind them, barely able to stand. "I'll keep them busy."
Donovan didn't argue. He kept moving. He heard Rodriguez speaking behind him as he turned the corner.
"In your unfailing love, silence my enemies; destroy all my foes, for I am your servant."
They were on the stairs when the gunshots sounded again.
