by C. G. Hatton
‘That wasn’t easy,’ NG mumbled back.
That got another laugh.
The FOB itself was clear. Sebastian had wiped them all out. Several hundred of them but the strain had been enormous. NG leaned forward and told the pilot to set them down there.
The Senson engaged, jarring as if the connection in his neck had been fried, but not so much that he couldn’t recognise Evelyn. “NG, are you okay?”
“Will be. Come meet us on the Man’s ship.” He couldn’t face the idea of going on board the Alsatia. “Where are the others?”
He was shivering. Couldn’t stop it.
He was vaguely aware that Leigh had her fingers pressed against the pulse point in his wrist, thinking he needed medical attention, but he felt numb, so exhausted he couldn’t feel the contact, couldn’t even draw any energy from her.
She was worried about him.
“All good here,” Duncan cut in. “Heading back.”
“Where’s LC?”
There was a pause then a strained, “Heading back.”
“Hil? Badger?” he sent.
“All good,” Badger replied.
It was a strangely hollow victory. He just felt cold.
‘You’ve got yourself live prisoners.’
The losses were better than predicted but still horrific. He didn’t need to look at the display screens and the scrolling stats to see that.
And it was just the start. This was one base of hundreds. He’d felt in the Bhenykhn commander’s mind the pure scale of what they were confronting. It had let him see that, let him feel the full power of the hive across human occupied space.
He shivered.
‘We won. Enjoy it.’
NG nodded slowly. One step at a time.
They landed near the FOB. Someone gave him a combat jacket and he pulled it tight around himself as he headed out onto a wet moorland. He had four elite guard with him, Leigh hovering a step behind. She wasn’t happy that he was risking himself like this.
“The base is clear,” he muttered.
The orders he’d set up were to take live prisoners but keep them out cold. They didn’t need any of the bastards communicating with each other.
There was a contingent of guild Security there, waiting for him. They fell into formation around him, the unit sergeant taking up position at his side, a slight step in front, rifle at the ready.
They walked in through what was left of massive gates, high walls surrounding the enclosure. It had been shot to shit, bombed, the wreckage of crashed ships still smoking. The gates were metal, black, twisted, elaborate knotwork. It felt like he was walking into his nightmare.
‘Don’t dwell here…’ Sebastian warned.
‘I want to see it.’
There was a killing ground behind the walls. No cover.
‘We used their energy against them,’ he thought vaguely as he walked in through massive blast doors. ‘Why didn’t you do that last time?’
‘I did. It wasn’t enough. Don’t dwell, Nikolai. We don’t have time to fret and feel guilty. You have enough of that already, don’t add to it.’
That was easier said than done.
He narrowed his eyes, adjusting to the dark. The base was warm, high ceilings, wide corridors, a pulsing light that was fading fast. Massive bodies littered the whole place, most of them the huge heavily armoured ground troops, some of them smaller, more like the scouts and pilots. Weapons lay where they’d fallen. He stepped around them, heading for the heart of the complex, doorways a scale bigger than human-sized. He felt like a child. It felt like he was intruding on another world.
‘They are the intruders here, don’t forget that.’
He was starting to think he wasn’t so sure about that.
The air was stale, damp.
He knew where to go. He picked his way through to their command centre. The machines in there were still humming, nothing showing on their display screens, no lights on their consoles, just a residual hum that was fading as its energy depleted.
The sergeant was on alert, checking for dangers, thinking the stench was the same as the last time. He’d been with the recovery team at the last FOB. He kept glancing over, thinking he was glad NG was on his feet this time and even more glad now that last time they’d got there when they did, when the damn Bennies just had them in transit, because if that base they’d been heading to had been anything like this one, they couldn’t have assaulted it, not with what they’d had. This place, he was thinking, would be a nightmare to attack if the Bennies weren’t all dead already.
“We need to take all this,” NG said quietly. “Record it all, get a Science crew in here. Pull in whatever resources the Wintrans and the Empire have too.”
The sergeant nodded and started talking with the Alsatia, ordering a couple of his unit to go recce.
NG shivered and pulled the jacket tight. He stood there, just looking around, feeling numb. The Bhenykhn commander was lying on the floor, dead orange eyes staring.
‘Get out of here,’ Sebastian whispered. ‘We’re done. Move on.’
He nodded and turned to go, eyes drawn down to the huge figure lying there, the alien that had taunted him, promising the untold horrors they would do to him when they got their hands on him again.
He didn’t fear it. He didn’t hate it.
He knelt and pulled the kill token off its armour.
The repair crew was there by the time they got back. He nodded to them and went on board, tempted to fall into an isopod and sleep, but heading for the bridge instead and just closing his eyes. It didn’t take long. The pilot got the go ahead, checked with him and took off, leaving the team from Science to recover what they could and tear the FOB apart. They made orbit, made one last scan of the surface and split, heading for the Man’s ship.
Leigh sat next to him. “LC is struggling,” she said.
The kid was feeling every death around him as a punch in the chest. They’d talked about it, they hadn’t been able to come up with any way he could deal with it. If anything, it seemed to be getting harder for the kid.
“I know,” NG muttered. “I need him out here.”
Tough but she didn’t argue.
“You’ve got what you wanted,” she said. “We should be able to move the research forward.” She let that hang. “Was it worth it?”
“Get me some results then I’ll let you know.”
She reached her hand towards his forehead. “You’re too hot.”
He closed his eyes again, wanting to sleep, but he caught an edge of something from the pilot. Concern.
Comms were faltering.
He sat up. “What’s going on?”
They were heading straight towards the Man’s ship, the Alsatia looming behind it in the screens. There was no reason why comms should be interrupted.
“I don’t know,” the pilot said.
He sent an urgent through the Senson to Evelyn. No response.
‘NG,’ he got from LC, ‘what’s going on? We…’
The kid was cut off as the screen flared bright, every display on the bridge overloaded with data, as the ship was rocked by the shockwave.
NG recoiled, hit by an intense punch of void, flashes burning at the back of his eyes.
The pilot was cursing, fighting to bring Spectre back under control, wheeling her round in a manoeuvre that caught his stomach in a vice.
They slowed. He reached forward to steady himself. Telemetry was going insane, the screens filling with markers. Debris.
The Alsatia was gone.
Chapter 33
She put her hand over her mouth. Horrified. There were other sharp intakes of breath.
One said, shocked, “He taunted them.”
“How can we take such a risk? He provokes them,” another said. “What could we expect from him? Would he put us in such danger? He has no regard.”
Another banged on the table. “This was your doing. He is your protégé. You and your underhand dealings have brought t
his upon us. You bring down the ire of the Devourers? You of all people? You should know better than to anger them. You…”
He stood. “Enough,” he roared.
The voices fell silent.
“I am not in the dock here,” he said. “I am not here to be interrogated. Accused. I bring you news. You all know well enough our position here. That my protégé and his people stood up to them, that is more admirable than anything we have done.”
He didn’t sit. He looked at them, feeling in them their cowardice, their self-centred need for preservation above all else. It was sickening.
She spoke then, little more than a whisper. “The Alsatia is gone?”
•
‘Breathe,’ Sebastian whispered.
He couldn’t.
The pilot was pulling them round, trying to get them clear.
Leigh was quiet, sitting next to him.
“The Man’s ship?” he said, cold, heart in his stomach.
The pilot shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m getting nothing but shit from everywhere.” She cursed, spiralling them away.
An increasing pressure was beginning to pound in his head. He could hear the blood pulsing in his ears, feel each adrenaline-fuelled heartbeat banging in his chest.
Someone was calling his name, his senses too scrambled to respond.
He froze. The pressure was squeezing as if something had him round the throat. Like the Bhenykhn on Poule but a million times stronger.
‘You dare defy us.’ The growl this time was deep, rumbling.
He couldn’t move. Couldn’t fight it. Couldn’t breathe.
It held him there.
‘You…’ it growled into his mind, “will not defy us.’
It let go.
He dropped, free falling forever.
And hit a dense black wall of nothing.
His chest was hurting.
He sucked in a breath that hurt.
His head hurt.
Someone cursed, nearby. A hand grabbed his wrist.
He blinked open one eye.
He was down. Flat out on the deck. Someone was popping Epizin into his wrist. One of the Security guys, not Leigh. She was sitting cross-legged by his side as if her work was done. She leaned forward and whispered, voice shaky, “You died. I thought that might have been it for good this time.”
“Takes more than that,” he muttered, trying to get up. “What’s happening?”
“We’ve lost the Alsatia,” the pilot shouted back, “and the Olympus. I’m trying to hook up with the Man’s ship but we are all fucked. Systems are shot. I have no telemetry. No visuals. Hold on.”
Spectre lurched with a violent bump, a scream of metal on metal vibrating through the hull of the ship. They slewed sideways and came to an abrupt stop as the grapples caught them.
He couldn’t sense the Bhenykhn, couldn’t feel Sebastian. ‘LC?’ he thought. ‘Duncan?’
‘You need to get up here,’ came straight back from Duncan.
He couldn’t sense LC anywhere. Couldn’t sense Evelyn. He had no idea who’d made it and who hadn’t.
His head was still spinning.
The pilot’s words crashed through into his reality.
The Alsatia was gone.
He’d lived in it or around it for his entire life.
Through everything, the guild had always been the one constant. Even when he was rebelling against it, he’d always known it was there.
And now, in the blink of an eye, it was gone.
He could feel a hollow void of vacuum at the centre of his soul.
‘Just get up here,’ Duncan thought.
The Man’s ship took a hit as they cycled the airlocks. Tremors rumbled through the hull. He punched the button and ran on board, the deck lurching beneath his feet, nausea tugging at his stomach, fists clenched to stop his hands trembling.
He was sure Leigh was right behind him but he turned as another blast hit, right where Spectre was locked up against the hull. He was thrown off his feet, tumbled backwards and hit the bulkhead. Leigh wasn’t there. She hadn’t come through.
He scrambled to his feet and ran to the airlock, hammering at the button.
It wouldn’t open.
He yelled, banging his fist against the door.
They hadn’t come through all this for him to lose her now. Christ, no, not Leigh as well…
Time slowed.
He felt the explosion billowing before it punched through the airlock. The door blew out. He tried to turn his shoulder, shield his head. He felt it hit. He curled up, breath driven out of his lungs, thrown back, a wash of hot air sending fragments tearing into his flesh as he hit the bulkhead and crumpled.
‘Nikolai…’
He raised his eyes.
Leigh was kneeling in front of him. “Hey.”
He almost folded. “Christ, I thought you were still on Spectre.” He was shaking.
She smiled, shaking her head.
‘Nikolai…’
He reached for her hand. He needed to hold her. He didn’t ever want to lose her.
She leaned close…
“Nikolai.”
He blinked open his eyes to sunshine, a cloudless blue sky, felt dusty ground under his fingertips. He was lying flat on his back. He rolled and pushed himself to his knees.
He was back in the courtyard, flags fluttering in the warm breeze, no crowds this time, no laughing.
Sebastian was sitting on a bench in front of him, leaning forward, elbows on his knees.
“Nikolai.”
He was struggling to control his breathing, his senses still reeling.
He blinked.
There was something weird about the way Sebastian was looking at him.
“Nikolai, Leigh is dead.”
He started to shiver, breath catching in his chest. “No…”
“No.” Sebastian raised his hand. “Listen to me. Leigh is dead.” His blue eyes were hooded. “Nikolai, Leigh died on Erica.”
He couldn’t stop shivering.
“Do you need to see it?”
In a flash, he was on that hilltop. In the rain. Another flash and he was sliding in the mud, a shout frozen in his throat, stabs of agonising pain shooting into his knee. LC was yelling. The massive Bhenykhn turned, ragged cloak whipping around its shoulders. Behind Luka, Martinez was lying, bleeding, dying. Leigh was scrambling to get to her. The scene slowed, each heart beat pounding, each drop of rain splashing, each bead of red blood welling with excruciating clarity. Leigh turned in perfect fluid slow motion, looking at him, dismay in her eyes, torn between him and Martinez. An axe swung, moonlight glinting off the nicks and dents in the edge of its blade, the weight of it crashing into her slight frame, slicing across her chest, blood spraying.
He couldn’t move.
She fell.
“No,” he yelled. He turned, looking for Sebastian. “This isn’t real. You’re messing with my head. This did – not – happen.”
It reset and played again, Leigh turning to look at him, fraught, wanting to help him, wanting to help Martinez, caught between them.
The axe swung.
NG pressed his palms into his eyes, squeezing them shut.
“No, this isn’t real,” he said, calmly, taking control of the vision. “Sebastian, where the hell are you?”
The combatants on the battlefield swirled away, leaving him standing there on a deserted moorland.
He stopped the rain.
Sebastian was behind him.
He turned, shaking his head.
“It’s not an illusion, Nikolai,” Sebastian said. “It’s in your memory. She died.”
He played it again, this time with no sound, in unbearable, agonising freeze frame, right through the moment the axe hit. She fell. Blood sprayed.
She was gone before she hit the ground, that black pop of void hitting NG in the chest as the Bhenykhn turned and struck LC with the rifle.
He stared.
Numb.
; It raised its crossbow.
And he was back in the courtyard, gasping.
“You knew,” Sebastian said. “You’ve always known. I’ve indulged your fantasy because you seemed to need it but the time for indulgences is over.”
NG sat back on his heels, cold shards of ice twisting in his stomach, an ache pulling deep in his heart.
He said quietly, painfully, “I know.”
Sebastian sucked in a deep breath. “Time to let go.” He stood up. “She was a comforting distraction, Nikolai, I couldn’t deny you that, but now…”
He squinted into the bright sunshine.
Sebastian looked down at him. “Now, you need to face reality. And in my reality, the compartment we’re in is rapidly depressurising and losing oxygen. We are not going to die here, Nikolai. You need to get on your feet and get out of here. In case you didn’t get it, a whole Bhenykhn fleet just turned up. They are surrounding us. The Man has shields that are holding up, pretty much, against their weapons. There’s a surprise. And if you didn’t hear clearly enough, Nikolai, they are intent on destroying us all. Let’s do something about that, shall we?”
Sebastian let go and he dropped back to the deck, trembling, the shock of the blast still shivering through his muscles. He pushed himself slowly to his feet and looked up. Evelyn was standing there. There was someone on each side of him, grabbing an arm each as he tried to get up and pulling him through into the ship, an internal pressure door slamming shut behind them.
Evelyn’s emotions were wrapped up tight and cold, that self control slipping only when he got close.
She took a hesitant step forward, a bizarre thought flitting over her mind as she waited to see what he’d do.
He shrugged off the guys to either side, muttering that he was fine, and staggered forward, grabbed her and pulled her into a bear hug. She was shaking. He’d told her once to never, ever, hug him again and she almost cried, holding him and pressing her hand to the back of his neck as if she never wanted to let him go.
She pulled away first, wiping a finger across his cheek. He wasn’t sure if his eyes were watering or bleeding still.
He couldn’t move. He felt sick. Empty.
