by Lee Stephen
Tauthin struck Petrov’s throat immediately, his gnarled fingers rigid like a knife. The scientist’s trachea crushed upon impact. Eyes widened in horror, Petrov gripped his neck and stumbled backward. His efforts to scream resulted only in wheezes.
Throwing Petrov aside, Tauthin dashed to the room’s center console—to the controls he’d watched his captors use a thousand times. The other scientists barely had time to notice the purple-skinned trespasser among them. By the time Tauthin was spotted, the cell doors were already opening. Wuteel, the engineer. Nagogg, the lipless rider. Gabralthaar, the giant. The soldiers, Ka`vesh and Uguul. Nik-nish, the footless pilot. The blinded elite, Kraash-nagun. Ei`dorinthal, the Ithini. Those who could charge did. Those who couldn’t tried anyway. As the jailbreak exploded, Tauthin’s purple glare sought the lone sentry at the door. No sooner had the sentry turned to discover the chaos, Tauthin was already upon him, charging him at full speed and slamming his back against the wall. Within seconds, the titanic Gabralthaar was there to assist. Grabbing the sentry’s helmet and twisting, Tauthin wrenched it from the Nightman’s head then slammed it into his face. Blood erupted; the sentry collapsed.
With no armed guard to protect them, the scientists and staffers fell quickly, their heads slammed into consoles and their knees taken out from beneath them by the Bakma, who were mugger-like in their savagery. As the bloodbath carried on, the captive Ceratopians banged on the glass of their cells, begging for release. The Bakma ignored them.
Petrov was still propped against the wall, wheezing in vain attempts to scream, when Nagogg walked past him. The lipless alien stared at him with his skeleton’s grin before walking to the control console. Several button presses later, the glass partition of the canrassi cell slid open. Inside, the brown-furred beast roared.
Grabbing Petrov by the collar, Nagogg dragged him to the beast’s cell. Nagogg looked at Tauthin briefly, and upon receiving a nod of approval, he flung the panicked scientist in with the beast.
“Sho-kai-chaw!” Nagogg rasped in his scarred voice. Roaring obediently, the canrassi turned its gaping jaws on the scientist. Unable to scream, Petrov flailed his arms uncontrollably as the beast devoured him.
As the last of the humans in Confinement were killed, the Bakma gazed upon one another. Hollering in unison, they lifted their fists into the air.
“Nu`kachaa,” said Tauthin, raising his hand to signal their silence. The escapees settled down and regarded him. Lifting the dead sentry’s helmet, Tauthin stared into its featureless faceplate. The Bakma leader fell quiet.
* * *
CAIRO
BORIS WAS SPRINTING toward the hangar beneath the constant spray of the Anthill’s sprinkler system, his curly wet mop of hair sliding constantly over his eyes, forcing him to whip his head spastically to clear his vision.
“Boris,” said Jayden over the comm, “what are you gonna do when you get to the hangar? None of us can fly!”
Boris sputtered, “I know how to work an autopilot. Maybe I can fly it that way?”
“They’ll blow us out the sky!”
The technician swallowed.
Esther emerged moments after. “All right, Boris, I’m coming up on Confinement! What’s the next phase of your master plan?”
Overwhelmed, Boris cried aloud, “This is too much thinking! I need time to think!”
“Bloody hell, Boris!”
AS ESTHER’S TRAM approached the gates of Heaven, she checked her ammo count. She had three shots left, and she was seconds away from being inundated with guards again. Pushing her hair back, she talked to Boris again. “Okay, listen. You can figure this out. Take a second, gather your wits, and fix the problem. That’s what you do! Whether you’re...oiling a door, or...you know, those other things you do, we’ve always counted on you and you’ve always come through!”
“You don’t even know what I do!”
She raised her hands as if to strangle something. “That’s because I’m in the field, I’m not sitting back in the transport!” She waved her hands frustratingly. “That’s not the point! The point is, you do things. No one notices them because they always get done. I need you to do those things now!”
“But what?”
“I don’t know!”
He moaned over the comm. “I am going to throw up.”
Esther screamed at the top of her lungs. “Boris, for the love of all things good and holy, I will fall prostrate before you if you do something to save my life!” She looked out the tram window as it stopped in Heaven. Guards were already waiting for her. “I need something now!”
Boris’s intensified breaths were accompanied by the constant tapping of fingers and uttering of, “I have to do it, I have to do it, I have to do it.”
“Do what?” Esther shouted. The tram door light began to blink; the guards raised their weapons. “Boris!”
The technician’s breathing stopped. Then he exhaled. “I did it.”
The tram door opened. Esther ducked behind cover as guards ran toward her. She fired two of her three remaining shots. “You did what?”
“...I released all the necrilids.”
Esther’s brown eyes opened widely. Her shoulders went limp. “Oh... my God.”
From far behind the guards, human screams emerged over the distant gunfire. Sliding to a stop on the slippery floor, the guards about-faced as black figures bounded across the massive main laboratory. Panicked and wet scientists ran in every direction.
The guards shouted to each other. Their attention completely shifted away from Esther.
“Boris!” she screamed. “What the hell were you thinking?” She was armorless and almost ammo-less. She watched in horror as necrilids leapt from person to person, their gaping fangs sending blood flying across the laboratory floor.
All at once, the whole of Heaven fled toward the tram system. The guards were in the middle of the stampede. She could escape with them. But even that was a means to no end. She was dressed like anything but a scientist; she’d never hide in a crowd. As soon as she’d get to the other hubs, the EDEN guards there would find and capture her. She wasn’t going to escape with stealth. This extraction operation had just turned into suicide.
Esther blinked. In the midst of the chaos, her gaze fell deep with realization. “This is an extraction,” she whispered to herself. “An extraction.” Still in the tram, she watched as the necrilids spread their horror.
Drawing a breath of preparation, Esther dashed from the safety of the tram into Heaven’s hub. Slipping upstream through the scientists, she weaved her way toward the guard nearest her. The guard’s gun was holstered, as he appeared more focused on evacuating the scientists than engaging the enemy. “Boris, can you open any door?”
“Yes!”
Esther wrenched the guard’s handgun from his holster, shooting out his knee as soon as he turned to her. The other guards were too preoccupied to even notice. Leaning against the wall, she peered around the corner.
The laboratory was pure carnage. The few EDEN guards that remained were now a focal point of the necrilids, who darted from wall to wall in frenzied patterns. It was like being in the middle of a flesh-eating swarm. Behind Esther, scientists were cramming into the still-unmoving tram. “Boris,” she said, her voice lowering as she neared the necrilids, “send the tram back.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Those people need to leave.” Moments after she spoke, the tram door slid shut and began to pull away. Slicking her hair back slowly, she peered around the corner again. The gunfire had stopped. The guards were dead. In the center of the room, a pack of roughly a dozen necrilids gathered under the sprinklers, communicating through their shrilly barks and howls. “Listen, Boris. If we leave Cairo without a Ceratopian, Sveta’s going to be killed. Thoor won’t care that we got found out and were in full retreat. I have to break Centurion out.” Solemnly, Boris affirmed. “I want you to release some of the Bakma. About a dozen or so cells, far way from me. Can you do that?”
Closing her eyes, Esther waited. Above her and everywhere, the emergency lights were still flashing, their bright pulses reflecting off the sheen of her wet skin. Even as dripping strands of hair slipped down around her eyes, she stood statuesque.
The necrilids went silent. “Come on,” Esther whispered to herself. “Go after them.” A clamor emerged from further in the structure. The newly-released Bakma were mustering. For them, it was a jailbreak. For the necrilids, it was about to become a feast. Easing her head around the corner, she watched the necrilids bound away like a pack of reptilian wolves.
Release me.
Esther’s eyes widened. Ju`bajai. The female Ithini had found Esther’s mind.
Release me.
I never came here for you, Esther transmitted back to her.
Ju`bajai must have been imprisoned after Esther had been revealed as a double agent. It made sense. Ju`bajai had lied to Giro Holmes about Esther’s innocent intentions. The Ithini had been relegated back to prisoner status. Moving around the corner, Esther dashed across the laboratory while the necrilids were away, her gun lowered stealthily. A single gunshot would beckon every necrilid back to her position—having to fire her weapon because she’d blown her cover would doom her. Gaze returning forward, she stalked toward the Golathochian wing.
“BORIS, WHAT’S THE word?” Scott asked.
The technician answered, “I am on my way to the hangar!”
“Good, but we have a problem. I don’t have a pilot coming. I’ve got no one to fly this thing.”
“I am already working on it!” Boris said. “Trust me, captain.”
RUNNING THROUGH the hallways, water pouring off the brim of his cowboy hat—the lone personal item he’d taken—Jayden queued up Esther on his comm. “Esther, are you still in Confinement?”
“Yes, Jay,” she whispered.
Slipping between operatives in the hall, he said, “I’m comin’ after ya.”
“No! Jay, don’t.”
“Ain’t no way I’m leavin’ you back there.”
She argued quietly yet emphatically. “Auric is already heading to me. Go to the hangar and wait with Scott.”
“No way.”
“Jayden, you have to trust me. Relationships are about trust. Go back to the ship and wait for me, please. I’m going to be fine.”
Shouldering his sniper rifle, Jayden paused in the hall.
Esther’s voice quieted. “I’m going to close our channel, Jay. I can’t risk being heard. Please go back. I’ll be on the surface soon. I promise.”
Before the Texan could say a word, the channel went dark. She’d blocked him. Hands on his hips under the spray of the sprinklers, Jayden hesitated before finally turning around. Taking the nearest hallway that led to the elevators, he headed for the surface.
RELEASE ME!
With every few steps Esther took, Ju`bajai’s messages grew more coercive. The Ithini was agitated, but Esther couldn’t care. Running down the Golathochian wing, she drew to a halt as she reached Centurion’s cell. Yanking up her comm, she queued up Boris. “Open cell C-129! Hurry!” she whispered. Within seconds, the door slid open.
Rising to its feet, the black and green behemoth gazed at Esther anxiously.
“Remember that break thing you wanted to do?” she asked. “Now would be a good time!”
The Ceratopian said nothing—it only stared at her in silence. It didn’t understand.
“Bloody hell,” Esther said. Ju`bajai, I need a connection!
The Ithini didn’t reply.
Fine, you sodding extortionist, I’ll release you, too. There was a click; the connection was made, and Esther focused on Centurion. We have to leave, and we have to leave now. I have someone helping us from afar—he’s going to guide us out! Centurion’s posture grew poised. He was ready to run. Follow me, quickly. We need to leave Confinement.
As Esther bolted back down the hall, the Ceratopian stormed behind her, his titanic gait four times longer than hers. Then, abruptly and unknowingly to Esther, he stopped in one of the connecting lab hubs. His widened eyes were fixated on a pile of equipment laying haphazardly atop one of the lab tables. At the last thing any Ceratopian would have expected to find out in the open.
Esther’s focus was solely ahead. With the constant whizz of the sprinklers and the blaring klaxons across Confinement, she never even noticed Centurion’s detour behind her. It wasn’t until she’d reached the central laboratory that she drew to a sudden, horrified halt. EDEN guards were pouring into Heaven—they’d already gunned down the escaping necrilids. Now they were looking at her.
“Boris!” she screamed over the comm. “Did they take back the trams?”
There was a pause before the technician answered. “Yes! I am sorry, I have been programming transports. I have lost all the trams!”
In the same moment that the guards opened fire, something equally horrible caught the scout’s eyes. Necrilids. Not wild, escaped necrilids. Necrilids amid the humans. The patrol units. It didn’t matter that she’d met the one called Tiburon. As soon as the guards pointed to her, the pack of four creatures bounded ferociously in her direction.
Gasping, Esther turned and bolted back down the hall, noticing for the first time that Centurion was gone as she rounded a corner to return to his cell. Her breathing grew tight. The necrilids’ clawing grew closer. Whipping around desperately, Esther tried to get a bead on one with her pistol. But the monsters were too fast. They leapt from wall-to-wall with insatiable ferocity. Losing her footing on the slippery surface, Esther fell flat on her rear. She was facing the necrilids dead on. They were meters away.
She was about to be ripped apart.
Suddenly and all at once, the patrol units dug in their heels. Their claws skidded frenetically; they reared their heads away. It wasn’t an attack—it was an emergency deviation. They were slamming on the brakes. Esther’s head turned to look behind her, to see what the predators were reacting to.
It was ten feet of metallic, full-body armor—a colossal, five-horned machine, lumbering around the corner with earth-shaking mass. And it was holding a neutron rifle. As the necrilids wavered back and forth diffidently, Centurion leaned forward, spread his arms out, and roared. The Ceratopian bodyguard was fully geared.
Had Esther allowed a second for recollection, she might have remembered the laboratory tables with alien armor and weapons scattered throughout Confinement. But she didn’t have a second. Gripping her pistol, she launched herself from the floor toward Centurion, sliding feet-first behind him.
Hissing hesitantly, one of the necrilids arched its back and sprung toward Centurion, jaws opened. Centurion’s free hand lashed out, his fingers wrapping tightly around the necrilid’s neck in mid-jump. Rasping desperately, the beast scratched at Centurion’s face, its claws clanging and deflecting off the Ceratopian’s armored helmet. Growling lowly as the other necrilids watched, Centurion leaned in to look the monster in the face, tilting its head in dominating boldness. Then, with a single violent flick of his forearm, Centurion snapped the necrilid’s neck. The patrol unit was tossed to the ground next to Esther, its nerves twitching before its body went limp.
Centurion aimed his neutron rifle just as the EDEN guards rounded the corner. Zaps of red neon burst forth; humans and necrilids scattered in all directions, some avoiding the blasts, the others careening off the walls as if struck by a train. Within moments, they were in full-fledged retreat.
Wiping hair from her face, Esther leapt on Centurion’s back, scaling the titan until she was looking over his shoulder, one hand clinging to the alien’s armor, the other aiming her pistol. “All right, you beast,” she sputtered. “Full speed ahead.”
Bellowing loudly, the Ceratopian surged forward.
* * *
NOVOSIBIRSK
ON THE SURFACE of Novosibirsk, the Nightmen were being decimated. The global forces of EDEN, led by Vector Squad, were pushing steadily th
rough the defenses of The Machine. Plumes of fire erupted in every direction; orange bullet trails zinged back and forth. All across the grounds of Novosibirsk, the dark warriors of General Thoor—slayers, fulcrums, and sentries—lay strewn across the concrete. It was turning into a massacre.
Running full-speed for the hangar were Dostoevsky and the Fourteenth. With every whizz that flew past their ears, they ducked lower and lower to the ground. Far ahead, beside the fiery wreck of Novosibirsk’s massive hangar, sat the Pariah.
“Travis, status?” asked Dostoevsky. The fulcrum dropped to a knee behind some cover, motioning for the operatives behind him to hurry. Next to him, David and Egor joined in the fight. EDEN was shooting anything and everything that moved out of Novosibirsk, Nightman or not.
Derrick stutter-stepped, his chest bursting with red liquid. The southerner toppled to the ground.
“Derrick!” William skidded and turned around.
“Will, come on!” shouted David, tugging at the demolitionist’s shoulder. “Get to cover!” William wasn’t budging. Looking around desperately, David found Varvara. “Get over here!” The all-but-forgotten medic hurried Derrick’s way.
Inside the Pariah, Travis and Tiffany were prepping the engines for liftoff. Hopping into the seat beside him, Tiffany assumed the role of copilot without having to be asked.
“Come on, baby, fire up!” Travis said. After a moment of mechanical clunking, the feral dog roared to life. Travis got on the comm. “She’s alive, get in!”
In the midst of a barrage of enemy gunfire, David and Varvara finally managed to pull William from Derrick’s body. There was nothing any of them could do for the fallen southerner—he was dead and too far in the open to risk dragging along. As soon as William was in the Pariah, he curled into a ball on the floor.
“Everyone, get on board!” Dostoevsky shouted, waving the others on.
“Do we even have anny equipment in here?” asked Becan. Travis answered in the negative. “Well tha’s jus’ bleedin’ grand!”
