Sibylla of Earth

by A. D. Baldwin

  He threw the tank into high gear and rammed the mech in its knees. The joints buckled instantly, and the sound of squealing metal filled the air as the giant robot fell forward onto its face, finally slamming to the frozen ground with a resounding thud.

  Sibylla's heart swelled with pride as she watched Koda backing away in victory. But her attention was quickly drawn away as the sound of engines roared overhead.

  Anais was still battling it out with Carlos, the two of them caught in a dog fight that was as inspiring to watch as it was nerve-racking. Eventually, one of the Warhawks was hit with a bolting charge and the jet alit with fire as electricity bombarded its engines.

  Pieces of metal lifted from the jet's frame as the canopy suddenly pulled back, ejecting the pilot seconds before the jet ultimately exploded.

  Sibylla watched in fear as the recruit sailed away under the cover of a black parachute, eventually landing a few yards away from the forest.

  Shortly after, the second jet landed, and Sibylla's worry was relieved as she saw Anais rushing out of the jet with her rifle in hand.

  They were winning, Sibylla realized with a pang of hope. But the battle wasn't over yet. She was still trapped behind an immobilized Spider tank, fighting against the toughest soldier at the Nest.

  With their close proximity, neither Koda, who appeared to be trapped inside his spider tank, nor Anais who’d already landed her jet, could use their artillery. From here on out, it was ground fighting.

  As both sides expended their ammunition, recruits were quickly forced to turn towards a more traditional means of fighting. They reached for their blades, climbed over the tank and let out battle cries.

  Sibylla led from the front, anxious to get at Varya who was down to only a few soldiers. The fighting went quickly. Soldiers fell to the side as Sibylla cleared them from her path. Only Tayshaun and Anais were standing at her side when she reached Varya.

  "I see you’ve gotten better,” Varya said with a mocking smile.

  "It's over," Sibylla said, motioning to Anais who was aiming her VK directly at Varya's face. "Now give up."

  Varya grinned. "I don't think so."

  At that moment, Anais was frozen by a wave of blue electricity. It traveled over her body, and she fell to the ground at Tayshaun's feet in a wicked spasm.

  Sibylla turned and saw Yumiko marching toward them with her rifle raised in her direction.

  "I'd say it’s pretty far from being over,” Varya finished.

  Tayshaun staggered back in surprise, his eyes shifting between Anais on the ground and Yumiko who was approaching closer. "What did you do?” he asked, confused.

  "I'm paying them back for us," Yumiko said, her legs suddenly moving at a more normal pace than she’d let on.

  Sibylla didn't understand what was happening. It was as if she was in a nightmare. “Why?”

  "Because," Varya answered, curling into Yumiko's side. She ran a seductive hand across the Asian soldier's midriff, then nuzzled her ear with soft lips. "I gave her something you couldn't."

  Sibylla gaped at the pair, realizing that it had been Varya all along. That night in the Infirmary. The girl who had signed in to see Yumiko. It was Varya. "You're Sarah Clark,” Sibylla whispered.

  Varya laughed as she reflected over the name. Like a hungry lover, she clawed at Yumiko’s stomach, her voice suddenly taking on a pouty tone. "Boring, I know. But I was in a hurry. And I had to come up with something fast if I was going to speak to Yumiko before you did.”

  “This was all a game to you.” Sibylla was in disbelief. "People were hurt today. One of your own recruits died. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

  Varya scowled. "Soldiers are meant to be used. That's what they're there for. Besides, I'm not in this to serve my country. It was never about that. I’m here for revenge. And when I'm Commander, I'm going to see that everyone who served under you will be on the front line, doing their duty, as I march toward Moscow."

  "You're a lunatic."

  "Maybe," Varya said with a shrug. "But you won't be around to tell anyone."

  At that moment, the sky crackled with thunder and a light rain began drizzling over the field. "Now,” Varya said, “for the final step." She released Yumiko from her grip and handed her the Piercer at her waist. It was the same gun that her father had used to kill himself, the same weapon that she saw every night in her nightmares. "Finish her!"

  Yumiko aimed at Sibylla's chest. But there was a slight nervousness to her movements; a strained look to her face. She paused.

  "Do it!" Varya ordered. When she didn't, Varya added in a sweeter voice. "Remember your promise to me, baby."

  Yumiko swallowed. "You shouldn't have lied to us, Sib. You should've been loyal."

  "Loyal?" Sibylla pointed her blade at Yumiko. "You're the one who betrayed us!"

  "Yumi.” Tayshaun raised a hand in warning. "Wait a second."

  "She lied to us!" Yumiko screamed. "They're not like us, bro. They shouldn't be here."

  Sibylla scowled at her. "How can you say that?"

  "Because I'm the one holding the gun," Yumiko replied.

  The first shot nailed Sibylla in the shoulder, and a wave of electricity so painful, that Sibylla thought her heart was going to explode passed through her. She stumbled back, fell to a knee, dug her fingers into the cold earth, straining against the violent convulsions tearing through her body.

  "Yes!" Varya hissed, her eyes alighting with delight. "Keep going!"

  Yumiko fired again. But this time it hit Sibylla in the chest. The jolt ripped through her resistance, and she yelled from the pain of it. Her head twitched. Her jaw clamped down. It took every ounce of her being to keep from passing out.

  But there was more in her, a deeper strength that she didn't know was there. It awoke in her, like a waking dragon, giving her the extra strength, she needed to plant her blade into the earth and hold on.

  "What the hell?" Varya asked in amazement. "How the heck is this bitch not dead yet?" Varya dismissed the sight with a wave of her hand. "Whatever. Just finish it."

  Yumiko licked her lips, as she aimed at Sibylla once more.

  "Don't," Sibylla pleaded through clenched teeth. "Please."

  Appearing conflicted, Yumiko tightened her grip on the Piercer, and Sibylla exhaled in despair.

  There was no way she was going to survive another hit. Her body was already pulling apart at the seams it felt. One more hit, and she would surely die.

  She had to run. But to where? Looking around, she saw only an open field. But then, glancing over her shoulder, she felt the gust of a cold wind rising from the valley as if the cliff itself was beckoning her to jump.

  "Any last words?" Varya called out.

  Sibylla, who was still bent on one knee, bowed her head and shut her eyes, mustering what little strength she had to answer. "Yeah," she said, readying herself to run. "Go to hell!"

  As best she could, Sibylla careened toward the cliff and raced for the edge. It was only yards away, but it might as well have been miles. Bullets zoomed past her head as Yumiko began firing, her bullets coming dangerously close. But Sibylla anticipated the shots, and she zig zagged the rounds, ducking and feinting, tripping and stumbling, doing whatever she had to escape.

  The cliff rose up to Sibylla as she approached, and a steep fall with a bed of merciless rocks quickly came into view. Her heart sank into her stomach, and her breath caught. But she jumped.

  Yet, as she began to fall, her body was quickly jerked back as she felt a hand clasping her by the collar.

  She looked up and found Koda holding her from above. He'd managed to escape his tank to save her at the last second.

  Hanging onto the edge of the cliff with one hand, they swayed in the wind. Spit drooled from Sibylla's mouth as she tried to tell him to let her go. But her words only came out in mumbles.

  "I can't hold on for much longer!" he grunted, his jaw clenched, his fingers tearing through the muddy edge of the cliff. Finally, all at once, his
fingers slipped, and they fell.

  34

  A Tiny Speck

  The hologram was tiny, almost invisible. Murdock had to lean across the table just to see it. It was unimaginable that such a small thing—no larger than a spider—could command the attention of the entire NASA headquarters. Yet, it did.

  Scientists in white lab coats stood in their tracks as they stared up at the holographic module, marveling at the bizarre object hovering in the air.

  One of the scientists, a young woman with black hair, ordered for the image to be enlarged, and Murdock saw what looked to be an entire fleet of ships moving in a single direction.

  At least a hundred, he guessed, his heart sinking into his stomach. Large metal ships with dark hulls, their bodies strangely angled, it gave him a snapshot of the ancient civilization’s culture.

  This must’ve been what the Native Americans had first felt, he realized, remembering the story of the first Spanish ships docking on the shores of the America’s. Unfortunately, this time, the roles had been reversed.

  “How soon?” Murdock asked.

  An older man with black lenses, glanced at the scroll in his hand, struggling to calculate the impossible mathematical equations on the screen. “Um, at this rate, considering the velocity, and trajectory of their—”

  “How long, damn it?” the general growled, turning around to face him.

  “By the end of the day.”

  Murdock straightened, his mouth falling agape in shock. By the end of the day? That was nothing; only a couple of hours. Glancing at the room, he saw faces staring at him, their frightened expressions reflecting that of his own. He had to move fast. He had to react.

  Spinning around, he saw Dr. Vipus approaching from the entrance. Behind him, a team of security guards followed closely.

  It was already happening, he realized with a sense of nervousness, the evacuations, the escape paths for the higher-ups. Shortly, it would be his turn.

  “You said we had two more years,” Murdock said in an accusatory tone. “Two more years!”

  “And I was wrong.”

  “You were wrong?” Murdock was aghast at the doctor’s dismissive tone.

  “It appears that the enemy has more tricks up their sleeve than we’d expected. Somehow they were able to cross a huge distance within a few minutes.”

  “And how’s that possible?”

  “A wormhole of some sort, I assume.” He adjusted his glasses. “You see, general, as perfect as science is, it’s still an imperfect discipline.

  “It can only tell us that 2 plus 2 usually equals four. Take Einstein for instance. When he introduced his theory of relativity it changed the world. Yet, years later, we discovered that his cosmological constant couldn’t exist in an expanding universe. He was wrong.”

  “But not about this,” Murdock seethed. “This is the survival of the human race for Christ’s sake!”

  “And yet, it has happened.” Vipus climbed the last step leading toward the holographic display and reached into Murdock’s palms. “Now, we must put our faith in the hands of preparation.”

  The general cursed as he wrenched free of the doctor’s grip. Fine. If this was the hand he’d been dealt, then this was the hand he would play with. Tragedy was no stranger to him. He’d endured missile strikes, surprise attacks, betrayal by allies. This was no different, he told himself. They would do what they always did: fight until they found a way to win.

  Murdock shoved his way through the crowd of scientists as he made his way toward the exit. He was nearly there when he heard a voice behind him.

  “May I ask where you are going?” Vipus politely asked.

  Murdock halted. “To make up for your mistakes. And to make sure that this country has a government when this is all over.”

  The hallway was crowded with a team of secret service agents. Men in black quickly swarmed around the general, announcing that they’d received orders to protect him.

  “Fine, just don’t get in my way.” The general motioned for them to fall in behind his own personal detail.

  Every minute counted. Every decision was important. From here on out, he had to be perfect. Tapping the com in his ear, he tried to contact the Secretary.

  “General?” The secretary’s voice was strained. She already knew.

  “Kate, where are you?”

  “Where do you think?”

  “Is he okay?”

  “He’s worried. Like everybody else.”

  “Tell him I’m on my way to the White House.”

  “He can’t go now,” Walsh protested. “The Russian Prime Minister and Chinese president are here. And there’s still a number of issues we need to iron out.”

  Murdock hissed. Even in the face of annihilation, governments were still squabbling over the petty ownership of resources and responsibilities. “We’ll take them too. Tell him I’ll be there within the hour.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Murdock tapped the comm, signing off.

  There was so much that needed to be done, so many loose ends that needed to be tied. He didn’t even know where to begin.

  Exiting the building, he saw his grandson, Jared, waiting for him by the helicopters on the landing pad up ahead. From there, they would take him to Washington D.C., where he would urge the President and his cabinet to leave with him for the Ark.

  The general was already stepping onto the landing skiff of the chopper when he received a call through the com. He checked the source, saw that it was from the Nest, then frowned as his unease was impossibly made worse.

  Tapping the com once more, he answered in a grave voice. “What happened?”

  35

  Decisions

  Sibylla awoke with a start, finding herself in a darkened room. To her right was a softly lit lamp, while to her left was a window shaded by venetian blinds. She was back in the infirmary, she realized with a pang of confusion.

  Every part of her body was aching, and she was sweating profusely. Shifting in her bed, she felt the crinkle of paper against her skin and saw that she was in a paper blue gown. Blinking, she tried to remember what’d happened.

  Images came to her in a frightening whirl, batting her with memories she wanted to forget. She saw a cliff. Felt the tug of Koda's hands, the power of his strength as he twisted his body beneath hers. How useless she'd been in those final moments, how ridiculously helpless….

  Paralyzed from the effects of the electrical bullets, she could only watch as they fell through the air, crashing against the base of the mountain where it surprisingly rolled out like a ramp.

  The instinct to jump had come to her like a feeling, a soundless call that traveled to her on the wind, assuring her that everything would be alright.

  They tumbled along the rocky ground until they reached the edge of a still lake, where they remained motionless for a few seconds.

  Clutched in seizure, Sibylla was powerless to move. She turned to Koda. He was lying next to her, cradling his arm with a grimace. He’d fractured it, she could see, noting in horror how the bone above his elbow was sticking through the skin of his body suit.

  She tried to get up to help, but it was useless. The convulsions were too strong.

  Suddenly, a helicopter appeared overhead, and Sibylla thought it was the emergency response team. But as it landed on the bed of rocks next to them, and a group of Military Police rushed out with shock cylinders in their hands, she quickly realized that she’d been wrong.

  They marched out with electrical cuffs, ignoring Koda as they headed for Sibylla. Koda tried to stop them. He rose to his feet, barely able to stand, managing to speak. “We’re hurt,” he wheezed through labored breaths. He showed the police his fractured arm.

  But the men took it as a sign of aggression and they began to beat him, stinging him with shock cylinders and hitting him with fists, until they finally knocked him out.

  Lying on the ground, Sibylla tried to break through her paralysis. She wanted to sto
p them. But her words came out in a mess of gasps, and she could only cry in response.

  When the M.P.’s were done, they cuffed them both and hefted them into the air, dragging them into the helicopter, where they were strewn across the floor like duffel bags.

  Sibylla shut her eyes, struck by the painful memory of it all. Anxious, she tried to sit up in her bed, but her movements were impeded by something tied around her wrists. Looking down, she saw that they’d been handcuffed to the bed.

  "Good morning," said a voice.

  Sibylla turned to the corner of the room where a single chair sat shadowed by the darkness.

  She knew that voice, remembered it like a lingering nightmare. Knowing that she was in danger, she whispered, No…"

  "Yes," Division Director Alfred Connor said as he rose from the chair.

  His face tore into the light of the room and Sibylla felt a shock of terror. Dressed in a black suit with a grey cashmere sweater, he blended into the shadows of the room perfectly.

  Even after all this time, after all the months of training, she was still haunted by the images of Dillon's tortured body. His blood-smeared skin. The deep bruising on his arms and legs. All because of this man. Sibylla fought against her restraints to free herself.

  "Try all you want, my dear," he said, appearing entertained by her struggle. "But our time together is…" He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Inevitable."

  "Why are you here?" Sibylla demanded.

  "For you, of course. But we always knew that this day would come, didn't we?" He caressed the side of her cheek. She pulled away. "Ah, still reluctant to give into my charms, I see. No matter. Soon, you and I will become great friends. I assure you."

  "Murdock’ll be here soon," Sibylla warned. "He won't let you take me."

  Connor laughed. "Like he stopped me from taking Dillon?"

  Sibylla stiffened. "What are you talking about?"

  "Oh please, you really didn't believe that the old man could’ve kept me from getting what I wanted, did you? Traitors are my domain and I always get my prey."