by Scott Moon
Orlan shook his head as Kin moved beside him. “I spoke to some of the Wingers. They spent a year coming from the Ror-Rea, and they had boats. This world has a lot of ocean, but you wouldn’t know that.”
Commander Westwood had told Kin something of the geography of the planet. The Fleet surveillance satellite had made one pass before crashing into the temperamental wormhole. The Fleet’s maps of Crashdown weren’t perfect, but they were superior to Kin’s crude things. His exploration had been thwarted by the barrier Clavender erected to protect Crater Town.
“I think I have his trail,” Orlan said. “Thought I taught him better than this. Course, it was mostly book learning and videos. The boy has never been planet-side.”
“Never?”
“The whorehouse was on a space station. When they kicked him out, he lived on a second station in a nearby orbiting pattern. Every shining city needs slums. In space, they build dumping grounds for the unwanted.”
Kin stared at Orlan. “William was on the Iron Box?”
“Yeah. And he survived. I killed three people trying to find him. Broke up a few others. Most of the Iron Death gangs have it in for me.”
“Show me his trail. I’ll see if I can guess where he’s headed.”
Orlan knelt and pointed to the ground. “Makes sense now. These foot impressions are softer than a Reaper’s. He has the appearance but not the weight. And what looks like claws aren’t. Tabitha explained it to me. She said a shape changer could mimic the aspect of a turtle but wouldn’t have a hard shell. And the shifter would still have the same mass. Might look bigger or smaller, but physics don’t lie.”
Kin considered the tracks and his knowledge of the area. “William has no idea where he’s going. About a mile down the road, there’s a pass to a valley. Lots of trees, no obvious predators. He’ll probably hide there.”
“Why are there no predators in the valley?”
“That’s not what I said. The Crashdown wolves scare away other hunters. Nothing goes near their territory. Once inside the valley, it will be more dangerous than the Valley of Clingers.”
“Great.”
“On the bright side, I’ve been there a couple of times and know my way around.”
CHAPTER NINE
A lone Crashdown wolf peered over a ledge to watch Kin and Orlan as they approached. The lupine silhouette retreated until only the faint glimmer of its eyes could be seen in the night. It howled three times.
“What is that, a lookout?” Orlan asked.
“Exactly.”
“I’m glad I brought you along.”
Kin liked Orlan better when there were no other troopers around to feed his ego. He never forgot Orlan’s face as he closed the space casket, condemning him to death in the void, but his resentment was mitigated now that he understood the man had been helping Rebecca. “After we find William, I’ll need your help.”
“Sure. But the Imperials have won here. Even if Westwood returns with the main Earth Fleet Armada, the odds will be ten-to-one. No Fleet officer takes that kind of bet. So they won’t come. And if they did, they’d lose.”
Kin wanted to deny the truth. “We have to evade their patrols. In the best-case scenario, we don’t fight them again.”
“You don’t know much about Imperials. They won’t stop until you bow to them. Lieutenant Raker is the only trooper to survive and escape Imperial captivity.”
“We met,” Kin said.
“He was crazy. The Fleet used him, but I sat and talked with the man. Droon did us a favor by killing him.”
Droon. Kin searched the area as they walked. Although he doubted the Reaper was near, the image of the Reaper’s Clinger-damaged face burned bright in his memory. The scars and glowing orange eyes weren’t the most terrifying aspect of his enemy. Intelligence was what Kin feared. Reapers had always been a sentient race, but concepts of time confused their thoughts. Droon had overcome that mental block after biting Kin and recovering whatever secrets they hid in his blood.
“What’s wrong?” Orlan asked.
“Nothing. I was thinking of Droon.”
Orlan huffed and led the way deeper into the Valley of Wolves. Kin spotted wolf patrols as they searched for William. Orlan responded by changing course, muting the armor’s external speaker, and communicating by FSPAA direct radio.
The night passed. They took turns standing watch. Kin wondered what had befallen Laura and the others. The Imperials had surely closed around Maiden’s Keep by now. Once, about midday, he heard the sound of gunfire and rockets, probably Rebecca’s Shock Troopers as they fought a running battle across uneven terrain. The Mech units were unstoppable in most battles. Rocky slopes and narrow passes favored regular ground forces.
Send me a message, Becca.
Nothing.
“There he is,” Orlan said.
Kin spotted William sitting at the foot of a tree, resting with his feet spread before him like a schoolboy on a field trip.
“That’s a strange way for a Reaper to sit,” Kin said.
“That’s my boy. Lazy as hell, but smart. He’s probably pouting because there’s no books out here.”
Orlan and Kin approached. William made no attempt to run.
“Hungry,” William said.
Orlan ejected a ration bar from his armor. William reached for it, but Orlan proffered a tube from his helmet.
“Drink, Billy.”
“My name is William.” The words came hard. He struggled with every syllable.
Orlan grunted. “Change back so I can understand you.”
William the Reaper stared at him sullenly. “No.”
“Goddamn it, boy. You may look like a Reaper, but I’ll take a belt to you. Believe it.”
“No. My name is William.”
Orlan yanked back the water tube, stalked away, and stopped to squeeze his helmet with both hands. “Talk to him, Kin. Make him see reason.”
Kin moved closer to William. “I don’t know much about shapeshifters, but is it safe to maintain that form?”
William looked away. “No. I can’t think right. This has never happened.”
Kin squatted and waited a moment before speaking in a quiet voice. “Change back, William. Your father gets like this. He’s not mad at you.”
“He’s always mad at me. You call me William, and I don’t even know you. He treats me like a dog.”
“I don’t like him either — but you need to change back. It’s not safe.”
William lunged forward and spread Reaper mandibles, unhinging them wide enough to swallow a small animal in one bite.
Kin fell backward and hurried to his feet.
That was convincing.
He eyed the boy and retreated.
A moment later, William squatted and put his head down in the Reaper attitude of rest. Few humans would realize the sham. The act nearly convinced Kin, who had seen the monsters fight, kill, dance, eat, and sleep.
The fake Reaper’s torso rose and fell as William breathed.
Kin turned toward Orlan, who watched from a distance without speaking. The towering trooper had one armored fist on his hip. The other palmed his helmet. It shouldn’t be possible for a trooper in FSPAA gear to appear sad, yet Kin felt the emotion in his gut. He turned again toward William and noticed something different about his breathing.
He’s sobbing.
Orlan approached and knelt. He leaned close and put one hand on William’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, William. It’s just that I think Billy is a fine name. Never understood why you wanted me to call you by your full name. When I was a boy, that got you beat up.”
He started to say more, but Kin caught his eye. He shook his head until Orlan paused. Kin pointed toward his helmet, then used the FSPAA radio.
“Just sit with him for a while. Don’t push him.”
Orlan looked at his son and settled on the grass near him.
Kin wandered away, listening to the radio link.
Orlan practically whispered, “We
need to get moving, William. Kin has friends in Maiden’s Keep and they need our help.”
“I got Captain Raien captured. She was nice to me. Once, before the attack, she said I could be a trooper someday.”
Orlan snorted.
“What?” William looked up, his wounded expression seeming strange on a Reaper face.
“I’m sorry. It’s just that I wanted better for you. Being a trooper is no good. All you look forward to is death.”
William didn’t respond.
“I need you to change back. I can carry you wherever I want to take you.” Orlan paused to think. “Course, the Crater Town folk will run and hide when they see you.”
“I hope they do.”
“And Reapers can’t enlist in Earth Fleet.”
William stared.
Orlan waited.
Kin moved closer to listen and watch.
“I can’t change back.”
Orlan’s voice raised a notch. “You can’t or you won’t.”
“Both. I’m not changing back until Captain Raien is safe.”
Orlan stood and flung out his hands. “Is that all? I’ll just dash over the mountain and save her then. Anything you want, Billy. You’re just like your mother. Spoiled. A damn princess. Maybe that’s what I’ll call you instead of Billy. Princess.”
William waited out the tirade before he spoke again. “If you took me close to the Imperial base, I’d have to change into a different form to sneak in and free her.”
“That’s blackmail,” Orlan said. “And the worst plan I’ve heard. Kin wouldn’t be stupid enough to try that scheme.”
“We’ll need Kin’s help.” William said.
PATROLS moved around the mountain base. It wasn’t as large as the Imperial Fortress City near Crater Town, but five or six thousand soldiers quartered inside a perimeter strengthened with battle tanks. A seeming lifetime ago, Commander Westwood brought his entire armada through the uncharted wormhole above Crashdown with light casualties. Compared with the complete destruction of his Planetary Assault Force that any sane military mind would expect, the man had done well. He had wielded a full PAF Division until fleeing the endless legions of the Mazz Imperials.
Westwood brought every unit he could. His adversaries brought their entire race.
The Imperials had finally realized the enormous wheeled battle machines couldn’t come this far into the mountain range and had disassembled three of them into platoons of six tanks each as demolition crews began blowing chasms through mountains. Even when one of the wheeled machines was broken into tanks, there remained material for a fort of impressive defensive capabilities. The center of the position looked impregnable.
“What do you see?” Orlan asked.
Kin, hunched down. Concentrating on his helmet’s enhanced optics, he continued to study the landscape. “I wish I had an actual pair of binoculars.”
“Your FSPAA cameras are as good as mine. Maybe you’d like to get out of that suit and do it the old way, like when I found you running around with a pistol and a sword.”
“I still have the sword.” Kin refused to be baited by Orlan. He detected no sign of Raien or other captives. “Maybe this is the wrong base. I don’t see a place to secure prisoners.”
“They could be in one of the tanks, or the fortifications inside the perimeter.”
“Is that how the Fleet does things nowadays? Holding prisoners inside battle units?”
Orlan swore.
William’s broken voice interrupted. “I sneak down. In dark. They never see me.”
“The Imperials won’t, but their sensors will,” Orlan said. “Let Kin figure it out. He never leaves a man behind.”
“Raien isn’t a man,” Kin said without looking up from his observations. “Did you see Rickson during your trip to the Valley of Clingers?”
“Didn’t see him. Didn’t see his mutt. Stop asking.”
Orlan had such a way with words.
Kin moved back from the ledge. “If the Valley of Clingers wasn’t on the other side of the Imperial outpost, I’d tell you to find him. Rickson could sneak in there.”
“Bah,” Orlan said.
“I’ll bet you your FSPAA unit he could.”
Orlan laughed. “That’s a bet, but since he’s likely dead, we’ll never find out.”
Kin checked his observations a final time before giving William and Orlan the news. “Okay. Here is my assessment. It can’t be done. Not without help.”
“How much help?” Orlan asked.
“Everything we have. A team to penetrate the defenses. Shock Troopers to draw away units from the perimeter. Maybe even Laura and her best mountaineers to start an avalanche.” Kin paused, staring at the military complex. “In a perfect world, Dax and his Wingers would neutralize the Imperial airpower.”
Rebecca’s voice came over the radio. “Mech Command to Orlan, we need to secure fuel resources before we can help.”
Kin stared at Orlan, who stared back at him, unapologetic as he spoke through his FSPAA unit. “Roger that. Contact me in six hours for a rendezvous point.”
“Becca, are you there?” Kin said. “Where are you?”
“I have eyes on your location.”
Kin scanned the mountainside behind him and found nothing.
“Why didn’t you answer before now?”
An uncomfortable silence drew out the moment. “I wasn’t in a position to assist. There are a lot of long-range patrols in the area. Mech Command, out.”
Several minutes of radio static passed before Kin confronted Orlan. “You knew we could contact her.”
“Is that what you think?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Orlan. I’m not in the mood.”
“I’m not your friend, Kin. The only reason I say that now is that I’m thinking Rebecca might not turn me away if you were out of the picture.”
William the Reaper, still squatting, shifted foot to foot.
Kin swore under his breath, reaching new levels of vulgarity as he scanned the terrain for Rebecca’s Shock Troopers. He caught sight of them leaving the area because he knew what to look for. Heat vapors from their power cores changed the air not far from where he was now, but if he moved to catch up, he would expose his position and Rebecca’s to the Imperial lookouts.
He crawled out of view of the enemy, stood, and walked down a trail for several steps. Orlan and William eventually joined him. He ignored Orlan and talked to his son.
“I’m sorry, William. We’ll come back and try later. I just can’t do it now.”
“I’ll stay and sneak into camp at night.”
Orlan cuffed the back of his head. “Shut up with that.”
“That’s enough.” Kin moved between Orlan and William. He spoke to the boy. “If you get caught, that will make it impossible to rescue Captain Raien. Stay with us. We’re going to Maiden’s Keep. We can assemble a team. Her troopers are loyal. They’ll want to help. Trust me.”
Orlan stared at them, then grunted. “And change back into a boy.”
William slunk away from his father. “No.”
Orlan took a swing at him and missed.
“If I were a real Reaper, I’d eat your face.”
“If you were a real Reaper, I’d have already killed you.”
PART TWO
CHAPTER TEN
“KEEP moving, but stay low,” Kin said.
“Listen to him, boy. Those are Reapers. Maybe they’d take you in. Serve you a nice Reaper dinner and tuck you in bed.” Orlan slapped the side of his helmet. “That’s right, they only eat screaming little boys.”
“And big, stupid sergeants,” William said.
Kin chuckled. “He’s got a point.”
Four Reapers prowled through the evergreen trees, pushing branches aside carefully and moving slower than shadows.
Orlan’s voice quieted. “I’ve never seen a Reaper stalk like that.”
“These are different.” Kin waited for Droon to burst from the darkness, beca
use he recognized the King Reaper’s tactics. When Kin first tracked the Reaper on Crashdown, Droon had ignored stealth and left obvious trails. By the end of their contest, the Reaper learned to be sneaky.
Over two meters tall and moving on legs able to bend either direction if needed, the Reapers were the classic boogeymen feared by all descendants of Earth. Oversized jaws twitched in anticipation of biting off a human head or swallowing a smaller creature whole. The arms were long and powerful, shoulders thick with muscle and scars. As fierce as they were, they lacked the Clinger parasites that made Droon the most dangerous single opponent Kin had faced.
What set Droon apart from the others were his eyes, too intelligent and cunning by half. These monsters were mindless killing machines.
“You and I could take four Reapers. These are young and inexperienced,” Orlan said.
Kin motioned for Orlan and William to stay low, then crept forward to get a better look. Creeping in FSPAA armor was a chore. The composite surface lacked shine. Small, almost invisible pits, reduced radar detection, but the units were still large. An unwary operator smashed bushes as easily as leaves. Yet most troopers knew stealth, especially after Hellsbreach. Staying hidden was the best way to survive. Fight when you must, move when you can, always seek the advantage of terrain.
The four Reapers were smaller than Droon, larger than Kin without his armor. They moved through the wilderness for a time, then gathered, chattering at each other in a circle.
A premonition swept over Kin. His skin tingled. He whispered in his radio, “Don’t move. I think there is another one.”
“Droon?” Orlan asked, his rough voice made rougher without volume and profanity to bolster it.
“Yeah. How’d you guess?”
“I just got a feeling. William is about to piss himself.”
Darkness rolled over the scene. Kin knew it had to be his imagination, but that changed nothing.
Would Droon be covered with Clinger armor? Surrounded by Crashdown wolves under his command?
Kin waited.
The trees parted. They were indistinct shapes in the gloom — branches and leaves playing tricks on his mind. It seemed the night opened like a stage curtain. He saw the creature’s eyes first, barely visible through slits as he approached the four young Reapers.
