Sibylla of Earth

by A. D. Baldwin

  “No,” Sibylla replied. “She’ll kill you.”

  Yumiko made a face. “She ain’t killing crap.”

  Varya slowed to stop as she finally reached the pair. Her helmet missing, her rifle resting lazily against her shoulder, she appeared to be on an afternoon stroll. “Not bad,” Varya said as she appraised the heaps of unconscious bodies around her.

  “I have my days,” Yumiko said.

  “I can see that.”

  Sibylla examined the two women as they stood face to face. Both were athletic, attractive and determined. But there was something about Varya that stood out. Whether it was her exquisite beauty, her cold eyes or her callous disposition, Sibylla knew she was different.

  “Too bad I have to end you,” Varya said.

  “I’d like to see that,” Yumiko replied.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Varya said, “you will.”

  Yumiko lifted her chin. “You know, I always wondered what it would be like to take you on.”

  Varya shot her a coy smile, the seductiveness of her eyes flashing like diamonds. “Are we still talking about fighting?”

  Ignoring the comment, Yumiko fell into a fighter’s pose, flowing into a kata that was filled with beautiful technique and power. It was amazing. But when she reached Varya, the brunette simply struck her in the throat with the edge of her hand, grabbed her by the head, and kneed her in the face, rendering her unconscious. It had all happened so fast that Sibylla barely had time to blink.

  “Now,” Varya said, wiping her hands as she cleaned the residue of Yumiko from her palms. “Where were we?”

  Sibylla stumbled back in fear. “You can’t kill me. Not in front of everyone.”

  Varya paused to look at the field. Soldiers lay sprawled across the grass, their bodies motionless. In the background, the mech and spider tank were slumped over each other, like drunken friends, a stream of smoke farting from the mech’s rear end as the hydraulic system suddenly ruptured.

  “You sure about that?” Varya asked.

  Sibylla gritted her teeth in defiance. “I still have Anais. She’s the best pilot out here.”

  Varya pointed over Sibylla’s shoulder to the plume of smoke rising above the trees, where one of the Warhawks had crashed. “Not anymore, she’s not.”

  Ah crap, Sibylla thought.

  “It’s a shame I have to kill you,” Varya said coolly, as she tossed her rifle to the ground and drew her blade from her back. “I could’ve used you in my platoon.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re smart,” Varya said. “Plus,” she added, taking in Sibylla’s form with lustful eyes. “Not hard to look at.”

  “You don’t know anything about me,” Sibylla said, her eyes turning to the field, hoping that someone would come.

  “If you’re looking for the other drop squads, they’re not coming. I made sure of that.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I took care of them. It wasn’t that hard. The second they exited their pods, we were there to greet them. Bam. Bam. Bam. All down.”

  “How can you hurt people so easily?” Sibylla asked.

  “Because that’s the world.”

  “And now you want to clean up your tracks.”

  Varya shot her a confused look. “I’m not here because of what you saw in the stream. I’m here because of what you can be.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sibylla said.

  “The wings?” Varya asked. “You were the only other recruit, besides myself, who figured it out.”

  “And what does that have to do with anything?”

  “I can’t have someone with that type of potential getting in my way.”

  “In your way for what?”

  “To becoming Commander.”

  Sibylla scoffed. “I don’t care about that.”

  Varya’s eyes narrowed, as she examined her closely, seeming confused by the statement. “Whether you do or not doesn’t matter; only your potential.”

  Sibylla gasped as Varya drew a step closer, her eyes growing dark as a smile peeled across her face. “Wait,” Sibylla said, trying to buy time. “Before you kill me, tell me something.”

  “What?”

  “Why do you want to be commander?”

  Varya paused. “The world is at war. Every day the Eastern Powers build their armories and add more troops. And I need to be in the right position at the right time.”

  “For what?”

  “For revenge.”

  Sibylla scoffed. “For revenge?”

  “What else is there?”

  “What about your troops?” Sibylla asked.

  Varya snorted. “Soldiers are meant to die,” she said, stepping over one of her own recruits that was moaning on the ground. “Just like you.”

  Sibylla thought of reaching for her VK. At point-blank range, there was a good chance that she could hit the Brunette. But the thought of using a gun was unbearable. She’d be killing her soul just to save herself. And that was something she couldn’t do.

  Desperate, Sibylla reached for the blade at her back and, with trembling hands, did her best to hold it steady before her.

  “That’s cute,” Varya observed.

  “Yeah?” Sibylla said. “Well, you won’t be thinking that when I ram it up your ass.”

  “Oh, really?” Varya grinned. “Let’s see about that.”

  The brunette raced out in a burst, and Sibylla raised her sword in anticipation, shutting her eyes to the impending blow. A loud thud sounded as their blades met and Sibylla stumbled back from the force of it, unsure of what had just happened. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Varya was missing.

  “Not bad,” Varya said.

  Sibylla spun around to find Varya kneeling on the ground behind her, her blade held out to the side, her head bowed in silence. Rising to a full stance, she glanced over her shoulder at Sibylla and said, “Now it’s your turn to answer something for me.”

  Sibylla re-gripped her blade and took a long calming breath. “What?”

  “The woman in the stream. Did you actually feel something for her?”

  Sibylla was at a loss. “Of course, I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because she was a human being. Because she was alive.”

  “And?” Varya asked, still seeming confused.

  “And nothing,” Sibylla said.

  Varya sighed in disappointment. She didn’t like the answer. Pointing her blade at Sibylla, she said, “Time to finish this.”

  Sibylla held her blade before her, holding Varya in her gaze. If she was going to come at her, she was going to be ready.

  Varya charged at her with incredible speed, crossing the distance before she could even move. Their blades battered and the force of it was so great, that it knocked the blade from Sibylla’s hands.

  Defenseless, Sibylla staggered back in fear, striving for a plan as Varya drew closer. But as she did, she tripped over the body of another recruit, and she fell to the ground, the back of her head slamming against a rock. Stars filled her eyes, and the sky began to fade, leaving only the darkened silhouette of Varya’s figure to loom over her like a shadow.

  16

  Triumvirate

  Waiting in the conference room of the White House, General Richard Murdock stared at the crucifix in his hand, wondering if there was a God.

  It’d been years since he’d asked himself that question. Not since the beginning of the war, not since he’d landed in the fields of Eastern Europe and saw firsthand what hell truly was.

  So much death, so much carnage. Men and women, boys and girls; their bodies half-torn and ripped apart, lying in makeshift piles, the emptiness of their eyes always the hardest to look at, always the most painful.

  The War had been a rumor once, a wild speculation born under the anonymity of internet chat rooms and message boards. Not even the politicians who were in charge believed in the possibility, so blinded by their own personal ambitions.

 
Only the soldiers in the field had known, men and women who patrolled the Eastern Border in the dead of night. They sat around campfires and stared off at the mountains, breathing in the cold air as they glanced at the surrounding forest, knowing something was watching them, knowing something was there. Murdock couldn’t help but feel the same way now as he did then.

  The briefs had been short. But what little he’d learned about the aliens terrified him. An ancient race believed to have been a myth was on their way back to earth. What did they want? What were they looking for? There were so many questions. But questions were for presidents. For men like him, men of war, there was only one thing to do: prepare.

  The General rose from his seat, as he heard the sound of voices talking outside in the hallway. Tucking the crucifix into his right pocket, he turned to the door and straightened.

  Secretary of State Kate Bell entered the room with the grace of a well-bred politician. Already in her forties, she was at the tail end of her beauty, but what youthfulness she still had was something to look at. Rich blond hair. A set of light-brown eyes. She had the looks of a beauty queen, but with the presence of a C.E.O.

  She shook the general’s hand with a firm grip, beaming him with the type of smile that could only be crafted through years of campaigning in small-town diners. “Richard, it’s good to see you again. I trust that you had a nice flight?”

  “Yes, Ma’am,” he respectfully replied. “I did.”

  “Good. I hope you won’t find these meetings too taxing on you, but the President wants a complete briefing on the current state of our defenses.”

  The General managed a smile. “I think I’ll manage.”

  As the secretary took her seat, Murdock was disappointed to see that she’d brought Dr. Neil Vipus with her. A bald man the size of a dwarf, he trailed behind her with a data scroll in his knobby hands, taking the seat closest to her.

  As head of Research and Development for the G.P.T.O., he’d beaten out every other Nobel Physicist vying for the job, placing him in charge of one of the world’s most resourceful entities. If there were a king of scientists, Vipus would be it.

  Murdock sat, taking the seat opposite the little man. Interestingly, he’d grown to admire him. How could he not? The man did his job. And he did it well. Who knows, if life hadn’t stunted the doctor’s physical abilities, he might’ve made one hell of a soldier.

  Even so, the General didn’t trust him, or the G.P.T.O., for that matter. It had been they who’d equipped the Russians at the beginning of the war, supplying them with the artillery nests used to bombard U.S. troops during the Hammer of Russia. And for that, he would never forgive them.

  That said, he knew he had to work with them. He’d go by their rules. Give them what they needed. Tell them everything he knew. All except one thing, a secret that he would hold onto until it was needed.

  “Doctor,” Murdock said, regarding the little man with a respectful nod.

  “General,” Vipus replied in a tone that was just as professional.

  Murdock waited for the secretary to speak.

  “So…tell me,” she said, glancing down at her data scroll. “Where are we with construction?”

  “Everything is running smoothly,” Vipus assured. He activated the lift of his chair and rose to a height that was eye level with the rest of them. Satisfied, he tapped the front of his data scroll, and the hologram of a giant base formed over the center of the table.

  The Ark was a magnificent structure. A one-hundred-level base built underground that could house thousands of people over an indefinite period of time. It was an unprecedented achievement for man, one that, according to intelligence, was already trying to be duplicated by Russia and China. The undertaking cost the U.S. government trillions of dollars, not to mention the countless hours it had required to facilitate such an endeavor.

  Every top scientist in the world, every engineer, every construction company worth its mettle had been commandeered to execute its completion. Murdock could only hope that it was as every bit as safe as Vipus had promised.

  “You’re not having problems with the…” The secretary paused as she arched a brow at the data scroll in front of her. “…support beams?”

  Vipus smiled. “The Chinese had been difficult at first. But as of late, steel production has been increased ten-fold. I have no doubt it will be ready in time.”

  “And the internal systems?” she continued.

  “Morgana is at present running diagnostics. So far, everything appears to be fine.”

  The secretary, as if bothered, narrowed her eyes at the tiny man. “Doctor, I allowed you to implement an A.I. as a secondary tool—a safeguard to oversee your work. Not as a primary decision maker.”

  “I understand,” Vipus replied, “but Morgana is the most advanced artificial intelligence in the world. It is important that we allow her to—”

  “Her?” the secretary asked.

  The doctor paused, realizing his mistake, then quickly apologized for the statement with a bashful smile. “Excuse me, Madam Secretary. I mean, we must allow it to scan for any error we may have made in the process.”

  “And that’s what scares me, Dr.,” she shot back. “Independence breeds self-awareness. The last thing we need now is a program thinking it's real.”

  Vipus shut his eyes to the woman’s concerns, then capitulated sweetly with a nod. “Excellent point, Madame Secretary. I’ll be sure to take that under advisement, but I assure you, all precautions have been taken to prevent singularity.”

  Bell regarded him for a moment. “Fine. In that case, let’s move on.”

  Vipus tapped the screen of his data scroll, and the image of the base suddenly disappeared, replaced by the sight of a large robotic design that the general had never seen before.

  Murdock sat up in his seat as he gawked at the strange figure, marveling at how similar it looked to its natural counterpart. A thick snout. A blooming mane. A pair of green eyes that flickered with cunning intelligence. But it wasn’t a lion. No. This was an enhanced machine, a robotic construct lined with vibrating wires and armed with advanced weaponry. It was remarkable.

  “What is that?” Murdock asked.

  “We call it the Panthera,” Vipus answered. “A robotic design based on the best attributes of its species.”

  “What do you mean?” the secretary asked, intrigued.

  “Every type of cat has its special advantage, its ability to overcome nature and survive its predators. The cheetah has its speed, the lion its strength. This one has them all. With only one difference.”

  “And what’s that?” Murdock asked.

  “I designed it,” Vipus answered with a smile. “Besides, its much bigger,” he added like an afterthought. “And armed to the teeth.”

  The general and secretary exchanged a glance. According to reports, the Anunnaki were imposing figures, monsters from when the world was savage and brutal. Perhaps these inventions could sway the war in their favor. He could only hope.

  “Now,” Vipus said, “For my personal favorite.”

  Murdock watched as the image of a giant mech appeared in the air, and he felt as if he was looking at a rising skyscraper.

  The Iron Enforcer had been the G.P.T.O.’s crowning achievement. A humanoid robot that could walk on two feet, it was built in the shape of an armored Cyclops. It stood over forty-feet tall with fists that could smash a tank and carried a cannon filled with ridiculously-sized calibre bullets for a rifle. The balance implications for something so large were astronomical, a barrier that apparently had taken the company decades to overcome.

  Even so, Murdock had only recently been notified of its existence, learning that a host of beta models had already been shipped to the Nest, where they were being tested in their live engagements. All without his approval. Letting out a tiny cough, he hinted at his displeasure.

  Vipus grinned.

  “What’s left?” Bell asked.

  The Enforcer quickly disappeared, and in
its place, Murdock saw what he’d been waiting for. The Guardian Suit. This was, in his opinion, the most vital weapon in their war against the Anunnaki—a tool his soldiers could use to overcome the strength advantage of the enemy. Comprised of ceramic plating, reinforced with mechanized joint structures, driven by full-blast thrusters and running off the power of the sun, the Guardian Suit could turn a man into a god.

  “Is it ready?” Murdock asked, as he stared into the slits of its imperial helmet. Like a Hellenic warrior raised on the hard ground of Sparta or the ancient beach of Troy, the suit looked indestructible, frightening. Murdock could only imagine what those demi-gods would think when they saw what man had become in their absence.

  “Almost,” Vipus teased. “We’re still having difficulty with reaction time. The joint structures are being adjusted to protect against muscle tearing.”

  “What about the aeronautics?” the secretary asked.

  The question brought a smile to the doctor’s face. He tapped his scroll, and Murdock saw a pair of wings sprouting from the back of the suit in a glorious spread. Wide and bladed, like the wings of a mechanical angel, they were breathtaking. “The wings will allow soldiers to reach top speeds without losing control, as well as an extra level of shield protection.”

  “What about the fail-safe?” Bell asked.

  “Aw, yes,” Vipus replied. “The Safety Valve.”

  “Safety Valve?” Bell echoed.

  “It’s what we’re calling it,” Vipus replied. “A suggestion that came from one of our newest recruits.” He turned to the general and offered him a bow of thanks.

  Murdock had heard about this. It was the suit’s most powerful asset, a destructive device that was as powerful as it was dangerous.

  “It doesn’t have to go that far,” Murdock said. He’d held his breath long enough. Now was as good a time as ever. “We could wait, see how the war goes, make a determination later.”