by Scott Baron
“Correct,” Barry said. “But Ash and I utilized some of the indigenous materials information in the databases to adjust the organics fabricator for this project. Most of the non-shielded components are organic. It should be nearly invisible to any scans.”
Daisy actually slowed in her work to study the device more closely. She carefully slid the back panel open and examined the internal components.
“This is genius,” she said appreciatively. “Really creative thinking. Especially for cyborgs.” She looked at the pair of mechanical men apologetically. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Barry replied. “You’ll see that the energy source is an organic electrolyte fluid housed in a cellulose membrane. The electrolysis generated between the positive and negative poles is designed to build a slow charge—nothing that would attract attention—then, when it reaches capacity, it will activate the few non-organic scanning parts.”
“So, it is not only mostly organic, but it also utilizes a random power cycle, further avoiding scrutiny. You guys did an impressive job, really, but I have to ask, what does it scan for?”
Ash stepped forward, a slight smile on his lips. “As you know, all organic life has its own unique energy signature. Near impossible to trace unless specific, genetic details are known. To obtain such details, however, one would have to possess in-depth knowledge of a particular genome all the way back to its creation.”
“And Vincent was grown and nurtured en route to his mission,” Barry added.
“Mal,” Daisy realized. “The Váli still possesses all of our genetic details from day one.”
“Precisely,” Barry said. “Ash and I, with Mal’s assistance, have designed this unit to pick up the normally imperceptible energy signature given off by Vincent. If you get close enough, the organic light-emitting diode will glow brighter. However, the energy source is, as you noted, rather random, so the power must be used sparingly.”
Finn walked in, carrying a small tray of vacuum-sealed pouches.
“Made you something,” he said. “Nutrient-dense, high in protein, and packing enough carbs to get you through the day. Just make sure to drink plenty of water with them or you might get a little plugged up,” he said with a mischievous little grin.
“Thanks, Finn. I’ll try to keep my pipes clear,” Daisy replied, tucking them into her bag.
“Ten minutes and she’ll be ready, Daisy,” Donovan called over the comms.
“Thanks, Donovan. How’s the extra shielding look?”
“It’ll deflect most of the burn, like you said, but you’ll still be coming in really hot. The landing chute is altitude-deployed as you specified, and we cut leads to everything else. No active computers but the bare necessities. Are you sure you don’t want life support?”
“No, I’ll use suit oxygen. The extra units stowed on board will be plenty for the trip, and if we do manage to launch back into the debris field, they should hopefully last us long enough for you to come pick us up.”
That was the one concerning part of the plan. The tiny ship was a beater at best, and barely flyable, but it was the most likely to avoid scans on the way down. Unfortunately, that also meant there was simply no way to make it space-worthy in her limited launch window.
Donovan would pull her in tow, then give her a push toward re-entry. Her maneuvering thrusters would do the rest, adjusting her angle of descent until she hit the atmosphere. From then on it would be fly-by-wire, guiding the barely maneuverable craft down to her landing zone until the chute deployed.
The only safeties she left active were the speed/altitude-triggered emergency landing jets. She doubted they’d be needed, but they were the one ‘just in case’ piece of equipment Reggie had convinced her to leave aboard. They would only activate and fire for a few seconds if absolutely needed, and that would almost certainly not be enough to read on a scan. Besides, if they did activate, that meant she would have been dead otherwise, so why not risk it? His logic was undeniable.
“Okay, that’s about it,” Daisy declared, pulling on her flight gloves. “Help me load the rest of this stuff on the ship and I’m out of here,” she said, throwing her flight bag over her shoulder.
“Just a minute, Daisy,” Fatima said, pushing a long and narrow grow-enzyme and what appeared to be blood-filled tank into the room. “I have something I think you’ll find useful for your mission.”
“It’s not my mission, Fatima. I’m just––”
“Yes, yes, you’re going to get Vince. Whatever the impetus, I think you are going to want this.”
“That’s nasty, Fatima, and I don’t need any new parts stitched on for––”
The older woman dipped her hand into the red liquid and pulled a long, bone-white sword out of the nutrient bath, the red running from its blade in rivulets, but also seeming to absorb into it. The shape was familiar to Daisy—a classic Japanese katana. Some of the historic records suggested that the ancient weapons could even cut through armor when wielded by skilled hands.
“Wait, that’s not ceramic,” Finn, lover of all things bladed, said. “What is that? Is that bone?” He was transfixed. “That’s bloody amazing! Can I see it?”
“It’s Daisy’s,” Fatima replied.
“Go on, Finn,” Daisy said. “Knock yourself out.”
He took the sword in his hand, gingerly touching the edge. A confused look crossed his face, and he grabbed the blade with his bare hand. “Fatima, what gives? This thing is dull as a stick!”
He handed it to Daisy. She whacked the dull blade against a half-eaten sandwich Finn had left on the table. It merely dented the bread.
“Thanks for the thought, Fatima, but I think I can find a club pretty easily on the surface.”
The silver-haired woman merely smiled. “Take your glove off, Daisy,” she said. “Feel the grip.”
Daisy didn’t have time to waste playing with bone clubs, but Fatima had been a friend to her, and despite her rush, she didn’t wish to be disrespectful when she had obviously gone to some trouble growing her a bone sword.
“Okay,” Daisy said, pulling her gloves off, “but I don’t see what difference that will make.”
She noted the fine texture of the grip in her hands, and for a brief moment, almost felt a strange connection to it. The balance was perfect, as if it had been created just for her. Of course, it had been, so she supposed that was to be expected.
Odd. It almost feels warm. Probably from the nutrient blood bath she grew it in, Daisy mused.
“It’s nice, Fatima, and I really appreciate you, um, growing this for me, but I’ve really got to get moving.”
“Try it again,” Fatima said with that tranquil grin she got when she knew something you didn’t.
“Seriously, I’ve got to go, Fatima.”
“Try it again, Daisy,” she said, more firmly.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Fine!”
Daisy swung the dull bone sword at the sandwich again, intending to squash it into a nasty mess. Instead, the sandwich, and the metal table beneath it, fell to the floor, neatly sliced in two.
Everyone in the room went silent.
“Um––” Daisy managed, staring at the wondrous thing in her hands.
“As I was saying,” Fatima beamed, “I think you’ll find that most useful on your quest.”
“But it was dull,” Finn blurted. “I felt the blade. You couldn’t cut a piece of toast with it.”
“That is true, Finnegan,” Fatima said. “You could not. Daisy, however, can.”
“I don’t get it,” Daisy said, marveling at the blade, studying its every facet.
It was Mal who enlightened them all.
“That went better than expected, wouldn’t you agree, Fatima?”
“Yes, Mal. I think it far exceeded our design expectations.”
Daisy reeled in her shock. “You mind telling me what exactly you two did? How was this dull and sharp at the same time?”
“It wasn’t, Daisy,” Mal replied. “It is a
genetically-engineered, organic bone weapon, designed to be completely invisible to Chithiid scans. When the donor’s genetic code is recognized by the sword, it reacts instantaneously, and the otherwise dull edge shifts on a molecular level into a sharp blade, the fineness of which is a rather remarkable hone tapering down to a single molecule. Used properly, Fatima and I hypothesized it could cut through most non-reinforced materials.”
“Hang on. You said donor’s genetic code. I’m no donor.”
Fatima leveled her gaze on her. “No, Daisy, you are not. Not in a traditional sense, anyway. However, when you first arrived at Dark Side, we ran a series of tests on you, do you recall?”
“Yes, but––”
“And one of those involved taking a bone sample. Your reinforced skeletal matrix nearly broke the titanium sampling needle, if you recall.”
She thought back to that day. It was true, her bones were supposedly many times stronger than normal, but that meant they had literally grown the weapon from a tiny piece of her.
“So you’re saying this is grown from a piece of me? That it’s alive?”
“Yes, Daisy. Alive and only sharp in your hands. It is an extra-reinforced matrix of your already super-strong bone. Wielded properly, it should cut through just about anything you’re strong enough to swing it through—within reason.” Fatima couldn’t hide her satisfaction, and given what she and Mal had created, who could blame her?
“But bone isn’t stronger than metal,” Daisy said. “It should break.”
“And it could, in theory, if you abuse it enough and don’t feed it. Otherwise, if you take good care of it, every micro-fracture will quickly heal and make it even stronger than before.”
“Feed it?”
“Yes. Disturbing as one of the sources of the genetic coding required may be, the result is a formidable weapon, but one that pulls nutrients from organic material.”
“Why disturbing?”
Fatima hesitated. “You see, Mal and I spliced in specific features of the most virulent organism ever created when we grew this. The very plague that wiped out humanity and sucked their corpses dry until not even bones remained was our inspiration. What wiped out humanity, might just help you save it.”
“You unleashed that nightmare in our base?” Captain Harkaway yelled, pulling his shirt over his nose and mouth.
“No, Captain, we did not. There is no plague here, and we destroyed the un-frozen sample utilized in the genetic modification process. What we do have, is a weapon that can now pull nutrients from living things as easily as you or I drink water. In a pinch, just about anything organic will work, but it really does prefer fresh blood.”
“So, it’s a vampire sword? What, am I supposed to let it feed on my victims or something?”
“That is so gross, Daze.”
I know, right?
Fatima laughed heartily. “Oh, Daisy, it’s an organic weapon, not some blood-sucking fiend. Just take good care of it, and it will remain sharp and healthy and take good care of you in return.” She handed the sheath to her stunned student. “Now stop standing here yapping with an old woman. Get moving and go save Vince.”
Chapter Twenty
Daisy pushed the last of her supplies into the small craft and climbed into the cockpit.
Flight system is stable, chute and thrusters are primed, Daisy noted. Okay. This is it. Time to go.
She keyed the door system and sealed herself in. Donovan and Bob would pick her up momentarily and drag her to her launch point.
“Fatima,” Mal quietly said over secure comms. “I have prepared the containers for relocation to Dark Side’s facilities.”
“Thank you, Mal,” she replied. “We will move the subjects from your bio lab into the base after Daisy has launched.”
“Very well,” the AI answered. “I think that all went about as well as could be expected, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. Very well, indeed,” Fatima said as she walked back toward the command center to join the others monitoring the launch.
The flight to the debris field was slow, as it always was when one had to essentially mimic drifting wreckage, and a good hour had passed by the time Daisy finally reached her launch point.
“Okay, Daisy. Ready when you are,” Donovan said over their linked comms. “Just give the word.”
She took a deep breath and double-checked her guidance settings. With the most minimal of electronics, there was always a window for Mr. Murphy to make an appearance. Daisy was not a fan of his law and hoped to avoid it at all costs.
“Let’s do it,” she replied.
Bob activated his thrusters and pushed her on her way, then released his tether. “Good luck, Daisy. Fly safe.”
Fly safe, he says. I’m in a plummeting hunk of metal with mere jokes for wings, and he says fly safe.
“It’s the thought that counts,” Sarah chimed in. “But Daisy?”
Yeah?
“Try not to get us killed. I’ve died once already.”
Her living sister laughed grimly as the atmosphere began buffeting the hull.
“Here we go.”
For five minutes the ship bucked and jolted as the hull turned bright orange from the massive heat building as it dove through the atmosphere.
I bet I’m making a pretty light show for anyone watching from space. Good thing I timed the landing for daylight. Hopefully no one will notice down below.
With a sonic boom, the vessel finally burst into Earth’s protective bubble and began its descent to the terra-firma below. Daisy glanced at the readouts.
On course.
She gently adjusted her angle of descent and settled in for the long glide to Los Angeles. From high above the continents, she observed the patches where the Chithiid had wreaked their strip-mining havoc on the cities below. Huge swaths not protected by automated defenses lay in ruin, disassembled and gutted as the alien invaders pried every resource from them until nothing remained.
A pocket of air jolted the ship into a disconcerting shimmy.
“Oops. Best get that sorted,” Daisy grunted as she set to work putting the vessel on course again. “LA is coming up pretty fast. Better stay on my toes so I don’t take out one of those towers.”
“Yeah, that would be bad, Daze. Smashing into buildings? Hard for them to miss something like that.”
“That, and I probably wouldn’t survive the impact.”
“That too,” Sarah said with a grim little chuckle.
The ground was approaching fast. Too fast.
“What the hell?” Daisy swore as she reached for the emergency release, just as the chute finally deployed, but far too low. She looked out the window and realized the error. “Donovan set it for sea level, but this far inland the city is on a slight elevation. Fuck, I’m going to crash right into––”
The emergency thrusters burst to life, arresting her fall as the ground rushed up to meet her. They cut off seconds later, letting the craft drop the remaining distance. The ship hit hard, but remained intact as it slid to a halt.
“I am so thanking Reggie for convincing me to keep that on board if I make it back,” she said as she scrambled out of the ship.
Daisy quickly pulled the chute and stashed it, then dragged the camo net she had hastily rigged up from the storage bin on the side of the craft. In less than three minutes, it was covered with the net and what neighboring debris was on hand. It was camouflaged as good as it could be, given the situation.
Just in case, however, Daisy took the backup communications device from its secure stowage and lugged it into a nearby building, hiding it carefully before returning to grab the rest of her supplies. If her ship happened to be found, at least the comms unit was safe.
She strapped the sword to her backpack and started off at a careful jog in the direction of where Vince’s ship should have landed.
Running in low-g on the surface of the moon was taxing and had kept her in shape, which she was grateful for, but it was nothing like running
in full Earth gravity. Fortunately, her other training with Fatima and Tamara had kept her cardio capacity at its peak, and after ten minutes, she found herself settled into a comfortable rhythm. After a half hour, she reached the sector where Vince should have touched down.
“Okay, time to get eyes on it,” she grumbled as she entered the stairwell of a tall tower. “Stupid stairs.”
“At least it’ll be a pretty view,” Sarah joked.
“You’re such a bitch.”
“Aww, you love me.”
Daisy reached the thirtieth floor and decided that was high enough. At least she hoped it was. Burning up all her energy this early wasn’t exactly part of the plan, but then, how much of a plan had she really arrived with?
Get to LA. Find Vince. That was about the sum of it, she realized.
Nothing else to do now but carry on.
She pulled her binoculars from her bag and scanned the city from her perch while chewing one of Finn’s energy bars. It only took her a minute to spot the downed ship a few dozen blocks away.
“Looks intact,” she noted, stowing her binoculars and slinging her bag back over her shoulders before descending to the streets below.
She was cautious in her approach. With no idea what had happened, and in a Chithiid-active part of the region, she had to be. Thirty-five minutes later, as the sun was setting lower in the sky, Daisy finally reached the ship.
“Hull seems intact,” she quietly noted. “Keep an eye out, Sis.”
“Already on it,” Sarah replied as she soaked in everything she could through Daisy’s eyes.
The ship’s door was open, but hadn’t been forced. Daisy unsheathed her sword and silently slid inside.
Empty.
“Daisy, look. The comms uplink is still here. Seems to be fine.”
“I see it. But there’s no sign of Vince.” She surveyed both the ship and the area around it. “No signs of a fight that I can see. You catch anything?”
“Nope. I think you’re right. Whatever happened, it didn’t happen here.”
A single, faint bootprint marked the dust near a long-abandoned vehicle. She pointed her Vince-detector at it and the faintest of lights glowed on its face.
