Alien Apocalypse: The Complete Series (Parts I-IV)
Page 7
Jet heard running water then, and noticed a deep crevice in the white rock just outside of the circle of tarmac, where water ran. She wanted to walk over and look at that, too, but Richter still held her by the arm, and her wrists remained cuffed together. He didn't hold her casually, either, but kept a firm grip above her elbow, holding her near enough that her back brushed his side and chest...near enough that she could smell the sweat and the scent of that strawberry shake on his skin and his breath.
She felt eyes on her then and turned.
Anaze had noticed her finally, and it seemed to snap him out of his trance, somewhat at least. He was staring at her alone, she realized, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings. His dark skin looked almost pale under the shocking sunlight, like it had under that manhole cover in Vancouver...which had been the main reason she hadn't put it together that it was him signalling her. His green eyes looked larger than usual, and glazed, probably with lizard-skin venom, Jet thought grimly. He still wore the necklaces of teeth he'd made of his hunting kills. He had a red and purple area of cheek swelling under his left eye, too, but didn't seem to be in any pain. The Nirreth holding him was one she'd seen before, she realized. It wasn't Laksri, but one of the others who fought her in that cargo hold. Even as she thought it, she turned, and found Laksri standing on her other side. He was watching her, too, the expression on his midnight blue, catlike face almost curious.
Anaze's expression was closer to puzzled. He looked at her like Jet was a math problem he was sure he should know the answer to...but couldn't remember.
“Anaze?” she said tentatively. “Anaze...are you all right?”
Richter glanced at her, and frowned, but she ignored him, keeping her eyes on her friend.
“Anaze,” she said, louder. “Anaze...it's me, Jet.”
He just stared at her blankly for a few seconds. Then he jumped a little, as if prodded from behind. Before Jet could speak again, she saw Anaze nod, even as he glanced at the Nirreth holding him. The look in his eyes was something like relief.
Jet glanced at the Nirreth too, frowning.
Richter, who had been watching the exchange, chuckled behind her.
“See?” he said. “Right as rain.”
“Yeah,” Jet muttered, frowning deeper. “What did they do to him?”
Richter sighed. “He's fine, Jet. As fine as he can be under the circumstances. Don't worry...I didn't let any of them play too rough with him last night...”
Not wanting to know what that meant, Jet merely grimaced, keeping her eyes away from Richter's. She continued to study Anaze's face, looking for some trace of recognition there, something she could reach. But the expression there was nothing she'd ever seen before, and nothing like the sharp-eyed, almost wary look Anaze normally wore on his high-cheekboned face. Even more than most skags, Anaze was edgy...probably from his mother running with bandits when he was too young to do anything but follow along. It struck Jet then, and as soon as it did, she could have kicked herself for not thinking of it before.
“You know him,” she said dully, looking back at Richter. “You knew his mother.”
Richter shrugged, his expression indifferent.
“You really don't give a damn about anything, do you?”
Richter's eyes hardened at that, right before he turned, giving her a warning look.
Shaking her head, Jet bit her lip. It wouldn't do her any good to try to make someone like Richter feel bad. People like him had no conscience to prick.
Swallowing a little, she looked back at Anaze, trying to assess him objectively, to see how far gone he really was. The signs weren't very promising. Even his body, which normally looked so, well...capable to her, seemed to carry something different than Jet had ever seen in it before. In fact, Anaze's body, usually so lean and hard-looking, appeared strangely soft...as if the muscles she could see in his chest and arms were there just for show. He looked more like the shell of Anaze, than he did the Anaze Jet knew.
She felt Richter's eyes on her face again, and forced her gaze off her friend. Giving Richter any reason to think they were getting to her wasn't going to help either of them.
She didn't exactly fool him though. Either that, or she didn't look away soon enough.
“Don't worry, kitten.” Richter smiled, and again she saw that harder, more veiled look behind his eyes. “They'll treat him fine...as long as you behave.”
He began pulling her towards the nearest building.
Jet hesitated at first, dragging her steps a little, then realized that was futile, too. She was better off waiting for a real opportunity to fight...like when they gave her back her sword. So she followed the pull of his fingers, walking faster to keep up with his rapid strides. Glancing to the side, Jet saw the Nirreth pulling Anaze along too, his long, jointed fingers on her friend's shoulder to steer him across the tarmac. The other three Nirreth, including Laksri right behind her and Richter, followed behind, walking nearly in formation. Jet found she was hyper-aware of their tails. Laksri, the one directly behind her and Richter, had his raised in a loop behind his back, as if poised to strike. It reminded her of guards holding guns on prisoners, and she had no doubt he was there in case she tried anything they didn't like.
It wasn't until she looked all the way behind her that she realized that one of the Nirreth held her sword, Black, in one of its jointed hands. She was still staring at it when Richter shook her arm, forcing her eyes forward once more, to keep herself from falling.
“Pay attention, kitten,” he muttered, his lips too close to her ear. “Eyes on the prize...at least until we get you placed...”
Jet didn't really want to know what that meant, either.
Anyway, the view around her distracted her again.
They were nearing the white, boulder-shaped building and now they were surrounded by those same tall trees. Jet looked down, seeing the deep blue, almost glacial water of the stream she'd heard before. They passed over it without stopping, walking across on a number of flat, evenly-spaced, transparent steps. The steps rose up from the bed of the canal itself like lilies with thin stems, the water flowing between the supports below. The effect was simple, almost completely natural-seeming, yet dizzying, too. Jet stared down, watching the currents of the stream beneath and between her feet. The stream itself was fascinating enough that she wanted to stop and stare at it, too, especially when she glimpsed what looked like gold and orange-colored fish flicking through the water below, leaving iridescent trails.
Flowers bloomed on flat, green stems on the canal's shores, and water seemed to come from all over...from pipes on the canal walls, from a waterfall she could see further down, and more tributaries she glimpsed upstream. She noticed then, that the canal seemed to lead out from inside the building itself.
She was still staring when Richter once more jerked insistently on her arm.
Stumbling a little, she moved her feet to reach his side once more.
He barely glanced down at the water below, pulling her along until they were over the bridge and on the other side of the canal.
“The Nirreth like water,” he said, smiling at her. It told her he'd been watching the direction of her eyes at least. That harder expression was back in his eyes when he added, “...But they don't swim. None of them. Not built for buoyancy, I suppose. Still. To surround yourself with water constantly, and not even be a species that likes to swim, that would die in minutes if they tried it...it's odd. Most of them don't even drink water. Funny, eh?”
“Most humans don't swim anymore either,” Jet pointed out.
He shrugged. “Only because the water's toxic. Not because we'd sink like a stone if we tried it.” He looked at her, smiling as he studied her eyes. “Do you swim, kitten?”
The question, though delivered lightly, struck her as a real one.
Jet frowned, not wanting to answer him really, but unable to think of a good reason why she shouldn't. In terms of picking her battles, it was probably stupid to antagonize him
over nothing.
“Yes,” she said finally. “Why? Does a swimming pool come with my exciting new life?”
He chuckled, pulling her closer to him again.
“It might, kitten,” he said. “It just might...”
He sounded almost pleased, though, by her response.
The flicker of jubilation she saw in his eyes made Jet look at him sharply again...but he didn't return her gaze. Before she could think of some way to ask him, a shadow fell over their party. Glancing up, Jet realized it was from the building itself, which was also smaller on the bottom than it was on top, although in less exaggerated proportions compared to others she'd seen in the distance. The effect of the lopsided architecture in this case was mainly to create a wide, patio-like area overshadowed by the upper part of the building, which was then decorated with different-colored paving stones.
Jet didn't get much time to look at any of that, either.
The next thing she knew, she was walking through a cave-like entrance, stretching deeper into the rock-like substance than she would have expected. The path it carved was at a slight arc, making it impossible to glimpse anything on the other side.
Jet looked back, watching Anaze's blank, almost contented expression disappear into shadow as he, too, was swallowed by the stonelike structure.
Then it really was too late.
The feeling came to her strongly, without doubt.
Although too late for what, Jet couldn't really be certain.
The tunnel seemed to wind on and on, further than the structure Jet had seen from the outside. She noticed after they'd been walking for a few minutes that it also sloped downwards at a slight angle, as if taking them under the boulder-like building, instead of inside it. Runner lights gave the walls a sickly blue glow, as if illuminated by a gas flame. It made Jet feel almost like she was inside the longhouse during one of their blackouts. They used gas then, at least when they had it, and sometimes even old blow torches to heat food and boil water.
Gas tended to be one thing they could still get at the settlement. There was no shortage of methane, so once they got the converters running, it was easy enough to collect and refine for the burners.
They'd been walking a long time, Jet thought, after a few more minutes of winding deeper under the structure. Jet hadn't seen or heard anyone else, either...not since they'd landed. Laksri and then Anaze walked soundlessly behind her and Richter, and Jet saw the other three Nirreth with their tails poised behind their backs in that sickly blue light, too.
Richter seemed to guess some portion of her thoughts around this, as well.
“Each of the tunnels goes to a different level,” he explained. “We're going to the lower floors, kitten. Processing. Permits.” She saw him grin at her in the dim light. “You need to be declared, my little fighting skag. Then I'll take you to meet the buyer...”
“Buyer?” she said.
The word sank in, and her eyes widened without her willing it.
“You said 'buyer'? As in one?” she clarified.
“Sure,” he said, smiling. “I told you I was looking for you...that I went out there for the sole purpose of culling you, and only you. I even told you I'd gotten a specific client request. Why would I have said all of that, if I didn't have a particular client in mind for your, er...talents?”
Jet felt her anger return, stiffening her shoulders. “Before, you made it sound like...”
“Like I'd be auctioning you?” He smiled at her again. “Sure. Well, that's a lot scarier-sounding, isn't it? Being auctioned?”
“Compared to being presold?” she said incredulously. “On what universe is that better?”
He grinned, shrugging. “Well, it's not entirely in the bag. They still need to approve the product. There'll be some tests, of course. But I have no doubt you'll pass all of them with flying colors, my dear...”
Jet frowned, pressing her lips together.
“I wouldn't count on it,” she muttered.
Richter only chuckled again, his eyes on the tunnel in front of them. When they'd walked without talking for awhile longer, Jet bit her lip again, realizing if she wanted to know anything more, she'd have to ask him outright. After wrestling with it back and forth in her head for a few more steps, she finally decided it was worth it.
“Why are we alone down here?” she said. “Where is everyone?”
He answered her at once, almost as if he'd expected the question.
“This is a private dock, kitten,” he said. “Only cullers for particular, uh, clients...come down here.” He smiled at her, and she could have punched him in the face for the look she saw there. Clearly, he was going out of his way to make her feel confused and out of her depth. “...My client would rather if your presence here was kept quiet,” he added vaguely. “...At least until he can assess your skill level. He'd rather not brag he's got a new mammal who can fight with swords until he knows if he's going to have to kill you in the first few weeks...that's assuming he agrees to my asking price in the first place.”
He added, his voice a touch colder, “You're not out of the woods yet, kitten.”
Jet knew he said it to intimidate her, but she felt her stomach go cold anyway.
“I never for a second thought I was anywhere but in the woods,” she said.
He gave her a sideways look, his eyes serious-seeming in the blue light.
“I'm trying to help you, princess,” he said softer. “You need to do well this first month, or he might decide you aren't worth it...sell you to the Rings for fodder, or just give you to one of their loyal servants as a pet, for a job well done or something along those lines...” His jaw hardened, right before he squeezed her arm in his thick fingers. “So take it seriously, all right? Plenty of time for heroics later...this first month, you just need to survive.”
Jet found herself looking at him, hearing something in his voice she hadn't up until then. His accent even changed at the end, sounding more like the one in the settlement where she lived, which her mother told her was a mix of what had once been accents from America, Asia, Canada and Native American tribes that originally joined their settlement. More than the accent, she heard emotion there that sounded almost real, a kind of fighter's determination that reminded her of something...or someone, maybe.
It was fleeting though, whatever she heard...as was the expression that briefly came to his eyes. She couldn't quite pin down what it reminded her of.
“How did you end up like this?” she said finally. “The myth at the camps was that you hated the Nirreth...that you used to fight them, even after the wars. Not just in the first resistence, either, but since then...that you raid their camps, even bust out prisoners.”
Richter chuckled, smiling as if the idea amused him. Glancing down at her, he raised an eyebrow. “Guess we can't all be idealists, kitten.”
“Yeah, well, we don't all need to be mercenaries, either,” she said.
“You can lecture me in 100 years, sweetheart,” he said, shrugging. “We'll see how many of our race are left who haven't found a way to live with our hosts without becoming cannon fodder. See how many descendents of your little settlement are left...as opposed to the families and children of people like me...”
Jet felt her jaw harden even more. “And people like me,” she added. “Don't forget. You're helping to continue the race as a slave caste, too. In fact, if you're telling the truth about life here, there'll be lots of slave brats running around who don't remember life as anything but dogs to the Nirreth...and their whores and gardeners and whatever else.”
“True,” he said, giving her a thoughtful look. “But at least there'll still be humans around to tell them stories of the good old days. At least there will still be some of us left alive...”
“Sure,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Alive. Like pets.”
Richter smiled. “How many dogs do you suppose would live in the continental United States these days, kitten...” he said, laughing. “...if humans didn't like t
hem as pets in the early years? Do you think they would have survived? Like the wolf, perhaps? Or the lion? After all, when did wolves go extinct...? Wasn't it a good century before the Nirreth even got here?”
Jet didn't answer, but felt her hands tighten into fists where they were cuffed in front of her.
“Survival is survival, kitten,” Richter said, blunt. His voice sounded almost angry when he added, “You tell me what's going on in that settlement of yours isn't slow suicide. You tell me those rebels will do anything to help any of you...or that humanity has the technology or the numbers or even the will to fight back against the Nirreth in any meaningful way. If we couldn't do it at the peak of our civilization, with our highest population numbers and our most advanced tech, how in the hell could we do it now...when most of our people are living like the natives did a few thousand years ago, with the exception of a few broken tech toys and bunsen burners?”
He snorted, his voice openly derisive.
“I don't think even you can lie to yourself that much, kitten...”
Jet didn't answer. She thought about his words though, unwillingly, but unable to stop herself entirely. She was more surprised he'd bothered to rationalize himself to her.
“Hit a sore spot, I guess,” she muttered finally.
This seemed to actually anger him. He glared at her, his fingers tightening on her arm.
“You talk to me in a year, kitten...if you manage to survive that long. You tell me then that I didn't do you a favor, bringing you here...”
“Yeah,” she said, not meeting his gaze. “Sure. Thanks for the favor...pal.”
His fingers didn't relax on her arm, though, and she could tell he was still angry. Again, she found herself watching him surreptitiously, wondering why he gave a damn what she thought.
Just then, she saw light begin to reflect on the walls in front of them. The end of the tunnel grew visible...first as a sliver of more yellow, sun-like illumination, then as a slowly uncovered circle of near-white, like an eclipse happening in reverse. Meanwhile, they kept getting closer, so the light got bigger, until Jet could almost see shapes beyond the opening.