by John Murphy
“Sounds like he was deflecting,” she said.
“What?”
“It’s a way of avoiding hard realities by changing the subject with funny comments. He was likely protecting you from the gravity of what he and your mother were arguing over, yet still trying to connect with you and assure you he was in control of whatever situation.”
“You got all that from a comment?” he asked.
“A sexist comment, mind you, but yes. Quite possibly he knew things were getting dangerous in Bangkok. He was looking out for you, trying to protect you from worry by downplaying. It’s pretty common with parents and their children.”
Several paces passed in silence as he mulled over her observations. He regretted being so open with her, but he couldn’t seem to hold back. Perhaps she was right. Yet why didn’t his parents send him stateside if they anticipated trouble? Could they have expected anything so extreme? They did have him holed up in the safest place available. Mitchell’s words gave him new insight into his father.
“Don’t tell anyone I told you this,” Mitchell said, “but the other night at the camp, I woke up and saw Goreman and Kerrington were missing. I suspect they were consummating their obvious sexual foreplay.”
“Pretty big words for having sex,” he said. “Is that your attempt at deflection, bringing up sex?”
“I’m surprised a knuckle-dragger like you caught that,” she said.
“Thanks…could be. Probably. It wouldn’t surprise me at all.” A thought crept into Killian’s mind. Would the mission command introduce such a distraction intentionally?
“I thought you should know, well, in case you had feelings for her,” Mitchell said.
“Don’t worry about that. I’m focused on the mission.” Images of Goreman flashed through his mind. Her physical attraction was hard to resist. He felt a visceral surge through his body at the mere thought of their few encounters.
“Heeding your father’s advice?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Killian mentally shook out his thoughts. “Thanks for the heads-up. I appreciate that.”
“Sure,” she said. “Thanks for saving me in the lake the other day. And for saving me in the desert, too. And when the dogs attacked…”
“Sure,” Killian said. He remembered her warmth against him in the lake, the smell of her skin, his longing. A different emotion washed over him like a bucket of water. Instinctual attraction to Goreman gave way to the desire to protect something he didn’t want to risk losing.
“Did you mean what you said?” she asked.
“About what?”
“About saving the water—for me?”
He paused before he responded. He felt like he was being cajoled into some kind of snare. It was true he had saved the water, and that in part of his brain, it had been for her. But acknowledging that would only complicate things.
Chicks is trouble.
From ahead, Kerrington’s voice saved Killian from answering. “Hey!” he called out. “I found something!”
The candidates caught up and gathered around Kerrington’s find—the broken skeleton of what appeared to be a primate-like creature half-buried in the sand. Its skull appeared oblong, and its frame as small as a human child.
“What the hell is that?” Vasquez asked.
“It doesn’t look quite human,” Sowell said.
“Its head is kind of weird,” Spalding said.
“Could it be a Carthenogen?” Vasquez asked.
“No way!” Dohrn said. “Carthenogens are tall, with much bigger skulls. Besides, what would it be doing here?”
Kerrington turned to Mitchell. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know. Without the nav tablet, I can’t capture an image to compare to any database.”
“Well, it’s definitely not Carthenogen,” Dohrn said. “I doubt they’ve ever been here.”
“If we know about this planet, chances are they know about it, too,” Killian said.
“Maybe they abandoned the planet for the same reasons we did, because of the atmosphere,” Mitchell suggested.
“It’s not a Carthenogen! It doesn’t look at all like a Carthenogen,” Dohrn said.
“You got a thing for Carthenogens, do ya?” Vasquez teased.
“No, asshole,” Dohrn hissed. “They’re a superior race. They wouldn’t destroy the environment on this planet or anywhere else.”
Spalding pointed. “Look, there’s more over there.”
The candidates followed him and discovered more bones scattered across the sand.
“Come on, we’re almost done here,” Kerrington urged.
The candidates resumed their march, now only a few hundred yards from the dark complex.
“Check that out!” Vasquez pointed to a mound about six feet high by thirty feet in diameter.
“Holy shit, it’s a pile of bones,” Spalding said.
They approached for a closer look. The heap was riddled with bone fragments, skulls, and sand, all compressed by their own weight over time.
“Must have been a burial mound for some alien species,” Dohrn said.
“Burial mound nothing,” Killian said. “Looks like a body dump.”
Images of the thousands of Thai refugees flashed through his mind. Was this where they’d wound up, in a body dump somewhere? If not this planet, then somewhere else?
“This whole place looks pretty alien when you think about it,” Sowell said.
“And pretty ancient,” Vasquez added, looking around warily.
Mitchell nodded. “This pile of bones looks like it’s been here a long, long time.”
“We may have the wrong place,” Killian said.
“It’s not the wrong place!” Kerrington shot back. “It’s obviously an abandoned mine complex. Let’s do our job and be done with it.”
Goreman shivered. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“Then let’s get on with it and get out,” Kerrington said.
They advanced toward the dark complex, plasma rifles at the ready. On the outskirts of the complex, they encountered several dark, blocky structures with walls about ten feet high. They couldn’t tell what they were, because there were no windows or doors.
“Look!” Spalding shouted. “It looks like a door over there between the buildings.”
“Check it out,” Kerrington said.
Spalding hesitated. Vasquez pushed forward and went down a ten-foot-wide alley between two of the structures.
“They’re doors, all right,” Vasquez said. He tried shoving on them. After several unsuccessful attempts, he tried the second set of doors on the next building.
Spalding followed him into the alley. “Stand back.” He aimed his rifle at the door and pulled the trigger. A red flash erupted and the door blew apart. Spalding grinned. “Oh, I love this gun.”
Vasquez approached the blown-out door with his rifle at the ready. He peered inside. Then he stepped back, unsheathed his light stick, and held it up like a torch.
“Holy shit!” Vasquez said.
The rest of the candidates hurried toward the find.
“What is it?” Kerrington asked.
Vasquez stepped inside, illuminating the fifty-foot-wide room, which turned out to be roofless.
Bones littered the floor from one side to another. They were dense, as if the creatures had been crowded in together and died in place.
“Oh my God,” Goreman whispered.
“What could this be?” Sowell asked, his tone hushed.
Killian reflected on the Thai people and uttered his suspicions: “Slaves.”
“It couldn’t be,” Dohrn said.
“Why not?” Sowell asked. “An alien race comes to mine this planet, and they use these slaves to do the dirty work down in the mines. Makes perfect sense.”
“That’s so inhumane,” Goreman said.
“Sounds very humanlike,” Dohrn said.
“Look, whatever,” Kerrington said. “There’s nothing we can do about this, so let’s get back on track.”
The candidates returned to the main path in the complex of slave-holding bunkers.
Killian counted the bunkers they could see. Ten on each side. Looking down the alleys, he saw six rows deep on each side of the main path. “Looks like a hundred, maybe 120 of these buildings.”
“How many of those little buggers do you suppose are in each one?” Sowell asked.
“Thousands,” Mitchell said.
Killian’s instincts were on overdrive. What they were witnessing might be freaking out the other candidates, but to him, the scene appeared to confirm his suspicions about what happened to the people of Bangkok, even though there wasn’t a direct connection. None of the remains looked human. Still…
The structures they encountered in the complex appeared more alien the closer they got, with decrepit towers looming overhead and corroded storage tanks on either side.
“It was definitely an alien race who built this,” Sowell said.
Vasquez stopped. “I think Killian’s right. We’re in the wrong place.”
“We’re not in the wrong place,” Kerrington insisted. “This is exactly the sort of place they wouldn’t mind us blowing up.”
“Well, this little bomb ain’t gonna do much damage here,” Vasquez said.
“Look, shut up and look for anything like a control room,” Kerrington said.
A few of the candidates held their light sticks above their heads and waved them around, searching the crumbling structures for anything definitive.
“What the hell is that?” Spalding pointed his light stick at a hulking body off to the side.
“Holy shit!” Vasquez said.
The candidates gathered around it. A massive skull hung out from shell-like armor, eye sockets gaping, pointed teeth grinning at them.
Killian knew immediately what it was. “Sat beesad.”
CHAPTER 24
KILLIAN’S MIND WAS IMMEDIATELY transported back to Bangkok as he stared at the creature’s remains.
“Sat beesad? What the fuck is that?” Kerrington asked, a hint of fear in his voice.
“It’s Thai for ‘devil beast,’” Killian said. “It’s a Carthenogen warrior.”
“Carthenogens don’t have warriors, asshole,” Dohrn said. “They’re about peace. This is some other kind of alien race.”
Sowell stepped in front of Killian and flipped up his face shield. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Vaughn. What is this?”
“This is, without a doubt, a Carthenogen warrior. I’ve seen them myself. We used to call them devil beasts because we didn’t quite know what they were.”
“You’re making that up!” Dohrn said.
Killian shook his head. “While I was in Bangkok, the Global Alliance used to round up refugees and load them onto massive Carthenogen transports.”
“And take them to a relocation camp, no doubt,” Dohrn said.
“Dohrn. Let him finish,” Sowell said.
“The Global Alliance soldiers would hunt down and drag out civilians and put them in the camps to be hauled off somewhere. Those that didn’t go were killed and dumped into piles like the one we just saw. When they’d cleared out enough civilians, they’d bomb entire districts, killing anyone who was left.”
“Oh, this is such bullshit,” Kerrington said.
Sowell held up his hand to stifle Kerrington. “Go on. Where does this thing fit in?”
“The Carthenogen transports were manned by these devil beasts, loaded up with armor like that. They carried weapons like these plasma rifles, only much bigger.”
Mitchell looked at her rifle. “Maybe that’s where our technology came from.”
Killian nodded. “I’m certain of it.”
Sowell prodded him. “Go on. What else?”
“These warriors accompanied the Carthenogens wherever they went, but were never seen outside the Global Alliance command post. They may not be the same race as the Carthenogens, but they were definitely the muscle behind them. We never saw them fight, but we were afraid of them.”
“Bullshit,” Kerrington said. “It’s just some alien species. Let’s get on and finish the mission.”
Killian looked at Kerrington. “I saw them kill.”
The others stared at him.
“I don’t believe you,” Dohrn said. “Carthenogens are about peace. They wouldn’t kill.”
“I saw them mowing down innocent civilians, Dohrn. They blasted two friends of mine right in front of me. The Carthenogens orchestrated the purge of Bangkok, and the Global Alliance carried it out.”
“Chrysalis!” Mitchell muttered with sudden realization.
Dohrn shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t believe you.”
“All right, who here knew anything about Bangkok before you met me?” Killian asked.
“I did,” Mitchell said softly. “But I didn’t know about these.”
Killian nodded to her. “Like Commander Connor said, we’ve been at war, and you were never told anything about it. I know, because I was in the middle of it.”
“We are on the planet of truth,” Mitchell said. “He can’t be making this up.”
“All right, Killian. We’ll go with that,” Sowell said. “I believe you were there. Let’s set this argument aside for now and get on with the mission.”
“Fine,” Killian said, and flipped his face shield down.
The others did the same.
“Let’s go find the control room,” Kerrington said.
* * *
They probed through the decaying structures. Holes were burrowed into the walls of the narrow canyon. They found living quarters and a few more of the devil beast carcasses, but nothing that looked like a control room.
A large structure, as tall and elegant as a church, came into view. Its shape reminded Killian of the delicate glass structure he saw at the command post when he’d been evacuated, but this one was mostly stone and metal.
As they approached, they saw steps leading to a doorway. On those steps were ten warrior carcasses, each with huge rifles and enormous helmets scattered about.
Sowell nudged a carcass with his boot. “Looks like some kind of last stand.”
“Who wants to go in?” Vasquez asked.
“No need,” Killian said, pointing to the top of the entrance.
Carved in stone and caked black with age were familiar figures—tall, slender Carthenogens raising their spindly arms in praise toward the center, where a larger Carthenogen figure floated with carved rays emitting from behind it. It was the same kind of sculpture that adorned many public buildings on Earth.
“This looks all wrong,” Vasquez said.
“Bullshit,” Kerrington said. “It’s got to be here somewhere, which is why they allotted so much time for us to find it.”
“Think about it,” Killian said. “If this was the target, they’d tell us to find a Carthenogen mine. That’s a detail they wouldn’t leave out.”
“Then they’d tell us to go to the human mine complex,” Kerrington said.
“And not mention to stay away from the Carthenogen mine,” Killian said. “This is a decoy. They left it to us to figure it out.”
“The nav tablet indicated the other mine was on our direct path,” Mitchell said. “Before it went out, that is.”
Kerrington glared at her.
“In a real combat situation,” Killian said, “if we got lost, do you think they’d want us to get back on course, or just find something that looks like a handy target?”
He pointed at Dohrn. “In your gut, do you think they’d want to blow up something belonging to your holy Carthenogens?�
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Dohrn’s mouth hung open.
They exchanged glances all around.
“We are in the wrong place,” Sowell said.
1 Hour, 30 Minutes to Extraction
Killian took the explosive device from Vasquez and led the way to the intact mine complex. With the seventy-two-hour deadline approaching, it was time for him to be insistent. The others followed sheepishly in a straggling line through the rocky terrain. Kerrington remained silent in the rear group.
It took them over an hour to reach the suspected true target. Killian and Sowell reached it first, a few minutes ahead of the others.
The complex looked as if it had been occupied only the day before, perfectly intact, in sharp contrast to the Carthenogen complex. Nothing seemed amiss, except for drifts of sand here and there. There were no mining vehicles, equipment, or any other indication of recent human activity. That, and the lights were out. They headed for a grayish-brown building at the center of a complex of pipes and storage tanks.
On top of the complex was what appeared to be a flight control tower. The two candidates looked for an access point, eventually spotting some cargo bay doors.
There was a panel at the center of the doors where the two halves came together. Killian lifted a weatherworn protective cover and saw two buttons: one green and the other red. He pushed the green button. Lights flicked on overhead. A much smaller access door popped open. Its purpose appeared to be to let people in and out without having to open the cargo doors.
Dim lights flickered to life inside the cavernous building, but only around the perimeter of the interior. The group could see that the warehouse was empty.
Kerrington caught up with the others, slightly out of breath. “Recon, what did you find?”
Killian ignored him.
“We found a way in,” Sowell said.
Before there could be any more discussion, Killian disappeared through the door. Vasquez nearly jumped through the hatch to keep up with him, as did Sowell.
