by Dorian Dawes
Melanson’s voice crackled into the tank’s comm systems. “We shouldn’t have too much trouble while inside the vehicles. The trees are smart. They don’t bother us. We don’t bother them.”
“What happens once we step outside the vehicles?” Snidely said, nervous.
Melanson laughed. “Then things get interesting.”
Snidely turned a pale shade of green. “Oh goody.”
BLUEBIRD ABOUT TORE the hinges off the trunk when she threw it open. Rogers was hauled off her and hurled unceremoniously out into the desert sand. His metal limbs crumpled beneath him like a discarded puppet. Bluebird emerged, swearing in her native tongue. Strands of her bright blue hair clung in sweaty clumps to the sides of her face and neck, both the color of an angry tomato. She fell to her hands and knees, gasping.
Rogers was quick to her side. He tried to help her up, but she shoved him away and staggered for a minute. It was everything she could do to keep from screaming.
“I have endured much in my time!” She spat, pointing a shaky finger at Rogers. “I have had my loved ones ripped from me, held the faces of comrades as they died in my arms, and endured false imprisonment. But this? This is a new low!”
She collapsed onto her ass, hands splayed out in front of her.
“I need…” she said, then laughed. “I may need to rethink my life.”
Rogers placed both hands on his hips, waiting for her to calm a bit. “Way I reckon it, there’s two ways go about stealing this key. We sneak in all quiet-like, which quite frankly is beyond our skill-set.”
“I am as quiet as a church mouse,” Bluebird said, and then threw back her head in a laugh. “Hah! See? I made a funny.”
Rogers groaned. “The other way is a full-frontal assault, and that’d be ill-advised.”
Bluebird stared at him. “You have another plan?”
Rogers retrieved his hat and Bluebird’s cannon from the trunk of the Scorpion. He tossed the cannon into her outstretched grasp. His fingers twirled the wide-brimmed hat around before resting it squarely just over his brow.
“Why yes,” he said confidently. “Yes, I believe I do.”
IN THE HOUR or two that it took for the sun to set, the temperature drastically shifted. Days on Archimedes IV were a blazing hellhole, but at night everything turned frigid. It’s part of what made it damn near impossible for anything to grow outside the mutant carnivorous plants in the forest.
Most of the encampment had finished setting up their makeshift barriers and watchtowers by the time Bluebird and Rogers deemed it safe enough to creep close. The moonless night kept them shrouded in darkness. She was almost impressed with the efficiency at which the Raiders had erected a wall of scrap metal and towers in a thirty-foot radius.
She hoisted the cannon over her back and scaled the far-reaches of the southern wall, just out of sight of a watchman. He was too busy staring down the sights of a sniper rifle to see the threat rapidly clamoring toward him. He had a split second of terror as her fist obscured his vision and he was knocked unconscious. Rogers joined her in the tower a few seconds later.
“Keep your head low,” he instructed. “Yer a mighty imposing sight, missus. They’ll spot ya in a second.”
She pinched the rifle between her fingers and deposited it into his hands as if getting rid of an unwanted insect. “Use this pitiful looking thing. It will be quieter than your six-shooter.”
“Thank ya kindly.”
He took the rifle and stared down the scope. While Cyrus might have had access to his more explosive weaponry systems, Rogers excelled when it came to precision. He lined his sights carefully and pulled the trigger. The rifle barely twitched as it moved between targets; three shots, three kills, and all within the span of a single second.
“Well done, cowboy.” Bluebird rose, causing the tower to complain beneath her weight. “Now there is no one who will spot me.”
Rogers stared at the groaning beams of the watchtower. “Yeah well, all the same, let’s clear off before your magnanimousness brings this whole thing down.”
“Good idea.”
They kept to the outskirts. Bluebird had to crawl along on her hands and knees just to stay in shadow. Rogers’s smaller frame was able to navigate the darkness with ease. She trusted his robotic eyes, occasionally stopping on his orders to avoid a patrol of guards.
One of the bandit guards clearly had been drinking a bit too much and staggered away from the rest of his buddies, rubbing his crotch through his jeans. Rogers stared from his hiding spot in the corner of the wall, silently praying the bandit wouldn’t come any closer. Bluebird’s massive form would be instantly spotted.
The bandit guard stepped into the darkness and unzipped to take a piss. He turned to the side, mouth drooping a bit. He hadn’t a chance to call attention to the bright blue streak hurtling toward him. WHAM! Another bandit’s clock cleaned from one of Bluebird’s devastating punches. She gave Rogers a thumbs-up and they continued their silent trek toward the center of the camp.
Two of the wyverns had been left behind to set watch over the camp, but fuel was too scarce and expensive to simply leave them hovering. They’d been left grounded in an open area of the camp. A few guards and pilots huddled near them, hands open over a burning barrel to stave off the bitter cold.
Rogers hurried to stand behind one of the wyverns. “All right, Cyrus. Time to strut your stuff.”
He rested a hand flat against the back leg of the vehicle. His entire body jolted and then collapsed. Bluebird hurried to his side to catch him.
“Will this work?” she asked.
“Never tried splitting our consciousness like this before,” Rogers said, a tinge of nervousness creeping into his voice. “Reckon it was worth a shot.”
A moment passed. Then, one by one, the lights behind the wyvern’s panels flickered on. Its legs groaned as they shifted from side to side, like a newborn calf learning to walk. The guards turned around, startled by the wyvern’s sudden movements. Their arms shook as it rose to its full height and trained its guns on them.
Cyrus’s familiar gruff twang emerged from the vehicle. “Woo-hoo! Time to shoot, Luke, or give up the gun! You varmints are about to get a serious wake-up call!”
“Mother preserve us!” one of the bandits screamed. “It’s possessed!”
“Shut yer cock holster.” Cyrus fired the guns, sending a stream of bullets into the group of fleeing onlookers.
Bluebird laughed, patting Rogers on the shoulder. “Well done, cowboy. Go find the key. Cyrus and I can keep these losers distracted.”
She hoisted Ethel from her back and charged the second wyvern before it had a chance to lift off. The plasma beam sliced it into melted bits while she cackled. Rogers had to take a minute to watch the chaos as gunfire and screams filled the night.
“I miss being a sheriff,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head as he hurried to Melanson’s tent.
THE DARKNESS OF the trees loomed all around them. It wasn’t Talisha’s first time venturing into inhospitable territory, but this forest caused the hair on her arms to stand on end. The trees pulsed and bled, their bark covered with pus-filled tumors and strange growths that set off scarlet vapors. Those same vapors coalesced into a thick scarlet fog that covered the ground, creating an unwholesome atmosphere of dread and horror. Every plant was like a set of beastly organs sprouting up from the ground.
Talisha could see the broken wing tip of the drop-ship coming into view. It was almost hard to believe that they were looking at what was most assuredly an outdated model. A large vessel capable of holding up to a hundred troops, several vehicles and a year’s worth of rations. A single drop-ship could deploy an entire army and alter the tide of any battle with surprise reinforcements.
“Wasn’t expecting it to be so big,” Nergal said after a moment’s pause.
“Would you believe they’re even bigger now?” Snidely said with a wry smile.
Snidely scratched at the flesh around the top of his
hand again. Nergal noticed. The skin had been rubbed raw. He watched the little corporate man dig at his own skin with his fingernails.
“Is that so?” Nergal asked, brow furrowed.
“Yes.” Snidely caught Nergal’s staring and hastily shoved his hand into his pocket. “The IGF military represents one of the largest and fastest-growing armed forces in the galaxy. The drop-ships had to be scaled up to compensate.”
Nergal lunged forward, gripping Snidely’s wrist despite protest. Nergal inspected Snidely’s hand closely before releasing it. There were traces of white spots all along the skin spreading down to his wrist.
Snidely stared, mouth agape. “What is your problem?”
“The critter,” Nergal said coldly. “You’ve been infected.”
They’d barely a chance to react to that statement when Melanson’s voice broke through the comm-line. “Disembark, people. We’re here.”
Each of the vehicles backed into a perfect circle surrounding the drop-ship. It created an ideal line of fire for a near impenetrable defense. Didn’t make Talisha feel any safer as she left the safety of the tank to approach the ship. The doors seemed to have fused completely shut, though holes large enough for several people to crawl through had pierced its sides.
Talisha kept her arm cannon trained in front of her, making sweeping motions about the area.
“You’ll be completely safe to do what you need in there,” Melanson said, laughing quietly. “I assure you, we have nature beaten.”
“With all due respect,” Talisha snipped back. “I’ve been on plenty missions where people died after making statements like that.”
Melanson laughed again. “Well hurry it on up and get in there.”
Talisha lowered her cannon. She was grateful that her helmet completely obscured her facial features. Melanson wouldn’t see the open-mouthed look of distrust. She didn’t like her life being left in the hands of a man she was ultimately trying to rob.
“Snidely. Nergal,” she said quietly into her comm. “I want you two back in the tank.”
“I can’t drive that thing,” Snidely protested.
“I’m sure there’s an instruction manual in the glove compartment,” Nergal sneered. “We’ll figure something out.”
“Thanks,” Talisha said.
Her voice fell quiet. She wasn’t used to Nergal actually being accommodating. She added it to the list of things bothering her about this place.
Inside the darkened hall of the drop-ship, Talisha did a quick heat-scan. No life signs detected, but her encounter with the critter last night left her skeptical. She crept cautiously forward, one arm fixed to her cannon to keep it steady as she swept the hallways with it. Her boots made clanking sounds against the rusted metal grates beneath her feet.
Overhead, several exposed wires still flickered with electricity, even after all these years. She turned the corner and saw the skeletal corpse of a former IGF Guardsman slumped against the door panel. A decorated medical officer, looked like. There was a dusty datapad still clutched in his bony grasp. She took a quick moment to scan and download its contents. Most of the data was corrupted and irretrievable. Talisha was able to find one bit of relevant information, a final log entry.
“Been on this planet several days now. Can’t escape the woods. The trees here have a mind all their own. They won’t let us leave. We’ve lost so many of our men. Melanson’s still missing. Coward deserted us most like. Opportunistic bastard. Would like to join him though, anything to get out of here.
“More complaints of noises at night from the men. I’ve prescribed everyone sleep-aids to help with the jitters, but I’m starting to hear it too. Terrible moans coming from outside. They sound human, unholy cries of the damned.”
The datapad also contained a map of the inner workings of the ship that she scanned directly into her helmet. It’d give her a better route to the location of the ship’s AI unit. She left the datapad in his lap and continued moving down the corridor.
Talisha froze at the end of the hallway. A meter that measured soundwaves flashed at the bottom-hand corner of her visor. She could hear the skittering clatter and skritches of rapid movement across the hull.
Reflexively, Talisha charged the beam on her arm cannon. She used the glowing particles of energy to light the way in front of her. A looming shadow appeared at the end of the hall, then vanished. According to her visors, there was nothing there.
“You have to be kidding me with this shit,” she muttered.
The skittering grew louder and louder, until it was directly over her head. She darted her gaze upward, bringing the cannon to the ceiling. A woman’s face stared down at her with wide pupil-less eyes and gray bits of stringy hair rotting out of her head. The creature screamed, opening her mouth into multiple distended jaws. Talisha fired the fully-charged blast from her cannon causing the woman’s face to explode into several gory pieces. They fell and splattered against the ground on either side of her in chunks.
Breathing heavily, Talisha was able to get a good look at the thing that’d tried to jump her. It had the same maggot-shaped body like the critter from last night, but was otherwise completely different. This one had a pair of human legs, and only one human arm, and its underbelly was coated in a padding of thick black hair.
Furthermore, the stomach seemed bloated, bulging outward. Talisha gasped and peered closer. Each strand of hair was connected to a small white sac that wriggled and moved with a life of its own. This thing was readying to lay a nest of eggs. Even more were still lodged within its belly.
“Oh to hell with this,” Talisha muttered and charged another blast of her cannon.
She continually fired at each egg until she was certain there were none left. She then blew open the Critter’s stomach releasing a wave of noxious gases and blue bile that spilled across the rusted grating. Even after the creature’s bloated corpse had been thoroughly scorched and splattered across the halls, Talisha waited breathlessly for it to clamp its jaws at her. Nothing happened. The Critter was dead.
It occurred to her that her previous missions had left her in some need of psychological therapy. She sighed wearily and continued on her way. Her nerves were fried. If the payout for this job was as much as Snidely promised, she deeply considered taking it and using it to invest in work a little less bonkers.
The danger was nothing. Guys with guns, bandits, armed insurrection? All that was just par for the course in a galaxy torn apart by poverty and war. It was the really weird shit that was starting to get under her skin. Psychic jellyfish, bug monsters that assimilated and mutated humans into propagating its species, and that wasn’t even the half of it. The universe had opened up to her in the last few years and given her a taste of true horror. She’d half a mind to turn the other way and run.
It’s what she would do if she had any damn sense. Part of her wondered if it was why her mother quit hunting bounties. Maybe she’d seen something too strange and frightening to handle and decided to hang it all up. It certainly wasn’t the killing. The first Talisha Artul had no problems with that.
Finally the doors to the ship’s central control room opened. Inside were a set of monitors that made a semicircle around a dimly-illuminated console. The screens flickered on as she entered the room, revealing a bald computer-generated head staring blankly at her. Talisha removed her helmet and waved half-heartedly.
“Sup. Mother, I take it?” Talisha said, sidling over to a chair in front the computer and collapsing in it.
An artificial female voice responded, its tone friendly and warm. “It is the name designated to me by the current users of this unit. How may I be of service?”
Talisha leaned forward. “I need everything you’ve got on the Valran.”
Mother blinked. “One moment please…that information is highly classified. You do not have access permissions.”
“’Course it would be.”
Talisha leaned forward and opened the command console on the machine. It hadn’
t been the first time she’d have to bypass security restrictions on an IGF system to access crucial mission data. They were notoriously secretive, even on intel that would have made it necessary to do her job with minimal casualties. The visor within her helmet had scanned several IGF databanks in the past and memorized thousands of security protocols making entry into their systems a breeze. A few clicks of the keyboard and the code was cracked.
“All right, lay it on me,” Talisha said, smiling.
“Access granted,” Mother chimed. “The Valran were an ancient species of nomadic humanoid aliens with distinctive avian characteristics, such as powerful wings, beaks, and talons. Documents indicate that they once prospered and thrived on the planet Avem, but fled a great catastrophe, details of which are unknown.
“The Valran people continued to move from planet to planet bringing with them unparalleled growths in technology and education. The calamity that befell their planet, however, seemed to have followed them as many grew sick and died. Their population dwindled, and those that survived entombed themselves deep within temples scattered across an untold number of worlds.
“The last time a Valran was ever seen alive was when a messenger visited a child formerly orphaned upon the planet Jyrraxis. A ship was reported entering the sector and docked in front of the Noble House of Artul. It left within a few hours of having made contact. The child was reportedly adopted into the Artul family but a year earlier.”
“Mom,” Talisha whispered. “Are you saying the Valran knew my mother?”
“It is currently believed within the IGF that prior to her adoption, the bounty hunter Talisha Artul had been raised by the last living remnants of the Valran people.”
“That’s a lot.” Talisha exhaled. She placed a hand on her forehead and wiped the sweat from her brow. “All right, what do you know about the temple?”
NERGAL AND SNIDELY sat next to each other in cold silence. Snidely kept staring at the white spots along the back of his hand, scratching intermittently. The itching had grown worse in the last half hour.
