Alien Hunters - Discover Sci-Fi Special Edition

by Daniel Arenson

  When finally they settled their flight, Steel looked behind him.

  The skelkrin ship was gone. Nothing but shrapnel remained.

  They floated through the silence, three souls—a knight, a gladiator, and a girl who would no longer destroy the universe.

  Steel closed his eyes and breathed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:

  ELECTRICITY

  The pod roared through Cirona's atmosphere, engulfed in flame. Riff dug his fingers into his seat, gritted his teeth, and prayed.

  Let me live, old gods and new. Let me live so I can kill.

  He shot through the fire, emerging into open sky. He breathed a shaky breath of relief, looked out the porthole, and saw a vapor trail in the sky.

  Grotter's capsule, he knew.

  Riff snarled and grabbed the pod's controls. He curved his flight, heading toward that vapor trail. To the man who had killed his mother. To Grotter. The man Riff would kill today.

  The forests raced up toward him. The vapor trail led to a patch of shattered trees. Riff shot forward, deployed his parachute, and began to glide.

  He was moments away from the forest when the gunfire started.

  Riff cursed.

  The gunfire blasted up from between the trees, slamming into Riff's pod. The bullets ricocheted off the surface. The pod was built to withstand reentry and it could withstand bullets, but the parachute was not as lucky. With holes in the chute, the pod plummeted.

  Riff grimaced and prepared for impact.

  Branches snapped and shattered. Trees collapsed. The pod shoved through the canopy and slammed against the forest floor, rattling every tooth in Riff's mouth.

  For a moment, silence.

  Riff sat still in his seat. Every part of him ached. No more gunfire sounded.

  Slowly, he reached into his holster and drew old Ethel.

  Silence.

  He looked toward the porthole. Branches swayed there, thick with leaves. A bird with eight wings fluttered by. The light of Vega fell in a warm, golden glow, rich with pollen.

  Riff reached one hand toward the door handle.

  He leaned back.

  He pulled the handle, letting the door swing outward.

  Gunfire roared, slamming into the pod. Riff leaned back, wincing, and thrust his gun out the door. He fired. Again. Again.

  The gunfire outside died.

  Riff caught his breath. He ripped off his chair's armrest and held it out toward the door.

  Gunfire blasted, tearing the armrest apart.

  Riff cursed.

  I can't step out without Grotter blasting me to bits.

  The gunfire faded outside. Grotter's laughter sounded across the forest, followed by his raspy, metallic voice.

  "Are you bleeding to death in there, Starfire? Come out when you want me to end your pain."

  Riff cursed. He couldn't hit Grotter from in here. He stared ahead at the control panel across from him.

  Oh bloody hell.

  He sucked in breath, fired a blast of plasma out the doorway, and kicked.

  A bullet grazed his leg.

  Riff shouted and slammed his foot against the controls.

  The engines on the pod roared, shoving him forward. The pod rolled. Riff screamed. He blasted across the forest, slammed into a tree, and raised a shower of dirt and wooden chips.

  He leaped out of the pod, rolled across the ground, rose to a crouch, and fired his gun.

  Grotter stood ahead between the trees. One of Riff's plasma blasts slammed into the cyborg's metallic half, shoving him back.

  Riff fired again. He hit Grotter's mechanical arm. The cyborg hissed, raised his machine gun, and began spraying more bullets.

  Riff rolled across the forest. Bullets slammed into the soil and trees around him. He hid behind a tree as bullets peppered the trunk.

  Grotter laughed again. "You've already lost, Riff Starfire! You cannot defeat me. Your plasma cannot hurt metal. You will die here, far from home."

  More bullets flew. Riff cursed, reached around the tree, and fired again.

  This time, he aimed for Grotter's gun.

  A bullet whistled and slammed into Riff's shoulder. He grunted but kept firing, blast after blast. Grotter screamed. The plasma washed over his human arm, wilting the skin, charring the bone. Grotter's machine gun fell to the ground.

  Riff stepped out from behind the tree. His leg bled. His shoulder spurted blood. He limped forward, woozy, losing more blood every step.

  "You are only half metal," Riff said and raised his gun again.

  He fired.

  Ethel's blast of plasma slammed into Grotter's head, melting skin.

  Grotter screamed. A horrible sound. The sound of a butchered animal. But the cyborg did not fall. The creature charged forward, screeching, half his face burnt.

  "I only need my metal!" the cyborg shrieked. Riff grimaced to see that even beneath the charred flesh of Grotter's human half, gears turned and clicked.

  Before Riff could fire again, the cyborg reached him and swung his claw.

  The hand of metal slammed into Riff's head, knocking him down.

  He thudded onto the forest floor and tasted blood. He saw stars. He raised his gun.

  Grotter's claw swung again, hitting Riff's hand. Riff yowled, his fingers crushed, and Ethel thumped to the ground. Grotter kicked the gun away.

  No. No! I can't die here.

  Riff rose to his feet, blood in his mouth. "You killed my mother, you bastard. Prepare to die."

  Riff swung his fist.

  Grotter grabbed his hand in his claws, tightened his grip, and crushed Riff's fingers.

  Pain shot through Riff. He screamed. He fell to his knees. The claws kept tightening. Riff heard a finger bone crack. He could barely breathe, barely cling to consciousness. His lifeblood drained away, and all turned to haze.

  "Yes," Grotter hissed, further tightening his grip. "Die slowly. Bleed out here as I crush you, bone by bone. Bleed out minute by long minute. I'm going to make it last."

  Still clutching Riff's hand, the cyborg kicked, driving his boot into Riff's stomach.

  All Riff knew was pain, darkness, stars. All he saw was shadows and light.

  It's like looking at space, he thought, eyelids fluttering. It's like being up there again.

  Before him, through the haze of encroaching death, he saw them again. Steel, his brother, the only family Riff had. Giga—sweet, gentle, loyal Giga, perhaps the dearest friend he had. Nova—the woman he loved, the woman he had loved for years.

  I can't die. I can't part from you.

  He would even miss Piston with his grumblings, Romy with her silly board games, little Twig with her smiles and wrenches and—

  Riff's eyes snapped open.

  He drew a shaky breath.

  "Still alive?" Grotter said. The cyborg glared at him. The human half of his face had melted away, revealing the gears within. In the metallic half of his face, his bionic eye blazed with red hatred. "This is taking longer than I thought. Good. Good."

  The cyborg still crushed Riff's right hand in his claw. With his shaking left hand, Riff reached to his belt and drew Twig's electric wrench.

  "What's that?" Grotter asked. "Need to tighten a screw?"

  Riff clicked the button on the wrench. Electricity crackled to life between its prongs.

  "Screw you," Riff whispered hoarsely and drove the wrench forward.

  He slammed the prongs against Grotter's face.

  Electricity crackled, racing through the cyborg's gears and circuits.

  Grotter screamed. His claw loosened, releasing Riff. The electricity raced over the cyborg, driving down his body, along his limbs, burning, blasting out smoke.

  "What have you done?" Grotter screeched, an inhuman sound, impossibly high-pitched.

  Riff struggled to his feet. "Won our little game. Avenged my mother. Rid the universe of scum. All the above, really."

  He drove the wrench forward again.

  Electricity crackl
ed, and the cyborg screamed . . . then fell silent.

  Grotter thumped down onto the ground. A few last gears turned, then stilled. Riff kicked the creature, scattering bolts.

  Between the rising smoke, a light flickered.

  Riff caught his breath.

  A part of Grotter was still working. Metal clicked. A lens shutter opened. The light intensified and blasted out, forming a hologram in the forest.

  Riff stumbled a few paces back, fell to his knees, and stared.

  A hologram of a towering skelkrin stood before him, flickering, fading, appearing again. This was no skelkrin warrior in armor. This creature wore a black cloak, and a dark crown topped his crimson head.

  "Emperor Lore," Riff whispered, on his knees before the apparition.

  The hologram stared at him with white eyes. The emperor's face twisted with fury.

  "Riff Starfire," the creature hissed. "It is you. The human my slave told me of. I will remember your name and your face, Starfire. When my hosts arrive at your world, you will be the first to scream, the last to die. I will break you slowly. I—"

  Riff rose to his feet and slammed his heel into the hologram projector. The light died.

  "Enough of that rubbish," Riff whispered. He could speak no louder.

  He managed to take a few steps away, then fell. His face hit the ground. Soil filled his mouth. He was tired. The birds fluttered above, and sunlight fell upon him, warming him, and the pain faded.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE:

  HOMECOMING

  Riff's eyes fluttered open.

  He found himself staring into yellow eyes set in a purple face.

  He blinked.

  "Hello," he whispered.

  Midnight smiled down at him, her teeth very white, her smile very warm. "Hello."

  Riff moaned and looked around him. He still lay on the forest floor. The trees rustled around him. Midnight knelt above him, wearing one of the Dragon Huntress's space suits. Her helmet rested in a patch of grass.

  "I'm sorry I shot you," Riff said. "Just want to get that out of the way."

  She laughed. "I'm sorry I blasted you with qi. That makes us even."

  He pushed himself onto his elbows and looked down at his body. His wounds were gone; only scars remained. He whistled softly. "I must be the world's fastest healer."

  "No, but I might be." Midnight raised her palms; they were glowing. "I saw the trail your capsule left through the sky. I ported down here. I found you in the forest, and I healed you with my energy, whatever energy I could muster." She blinked and sat down heavily. "I'm a bit woozy. Healing two Starfires in one day takes a lot out of a woman."

  Riff's breath caught. "Steel! Nova! Are they . . ."

  "Back on the Dragon Huntress." Midnight pointed to the sky. "They're still up there, looking down at us. Ship's badly damaged. Holes all over. Can't even land." She grinned. "You're lucky I know how to port. Within the blink of an eye, I can travel anywhere that I can see. All pirilians can."

  He nodded, feeling woozy too. He pulled himself toward a tree and leaned against the trunk.

  "That's why they wanted you, isn't it?" he whispered. "The skelkrins. Not because of the light you can blast from your hands. Not because of the healing. Because of the teleporting." He swallowed. It hurt. "My father said something about that in a letter to me, how if they caught you, they'd gain power to destroy the cosmos."

  Midnight lowered her head. She wriggled closer to him and leaned against the same tree. She spoke softly, her voice still afraid, still pained.

  "The skelkrins attacked my planet." A tear streamed down her lavender cheek. "For a long year, we fought them. We fought them well, but they were too many, their weapons too horrible. They burned our world from the sky. They bombed us until they realized that we're worth more alive than dead, that we carry a magic inside us they can use." She trembled. "By then only I was alive."

  Riff reached out and held her hand. She was trembling. "I'm sorry, Midnight."

  She closed her eyes. She kept speaking as if she hadn't heard him. "It was Skrum who caught me. He took me to a skelkrin laboratory. And he cut me, experimented on me, trying to learn how to use my magic." She took a shuddering breath, for a moment unable to speak. "His scientists developed a plan. They were to clone me—a clone for every ship in the skelkrin fleet. They were to place me into their engines. They were to turn me into a creature half pirilian, half warship, to use the power inside me to port their ships across the stars. Even in hyperspace, it would take the skelkrins months to reach Earth. But with my clones inside their ships . . . all they'd need is a line of sight. They could send their entire armada to Earth in an instant, then to every other world in this galaxy. They would have been unstoppable, appearing and disappearing, bombing worlds, blinking out of reality, appearing again with more ammo, more troops. The galaxy would have fallen to them, while I screamed inside a million of their engines."

  Riff felt the blood drain from his face. "God," he whispered.

  Midnight nodded, sobbing softly. "It was the Traveler who saved me. An old man with a long white beard. He is known in myths and legends in my world, known by many names. I always thought him only that—a legend. Until he appeared in the skelkrin lab. Until he freed me, placed me on a starjet, told me to fly and find his son." She looked at Riff and touched his cheek. "To find you, Riff."

  He blinked, then laughed. "My father? Midnight, my father is nothing but a street corner magician, pulling rabbits out of hats for the amusement of children. True, he often vanished on long trips. It would sometimes be a year or two before he returned home. But . . . he just traveled as part of his show. To perform as a magician in distant worlds. He's not a legend."

  Midnight stroked his hair. "He is greater than you know, Riff Starfire. You are the child of a hero." She kissed his cheek. "You are a hero."

  He groaned and struggled to stand up. "A hero who can barely stand. God, I feel like a tenderized steak." He helped Midnight to her feet too. "I saw the town a few kilometers north. From the air, it looked like the skelkrin fire hadn't hit it. What say we mosey on in, head to the nearest saloon, and order an actual steak?"

  She raised an eyebrow. "I thought they hired you to remove me, not walk with me into their capital city."

  He snorted. "Oh, they'll see how lovely you are, and they'll feel even worse when they hand over my payment. It'll make things all the sweeter."

  They walked through the forest, leaning against each other. The trees rustled. The birds sang. No explosions, no qi, no bloodthirsty aliens, no killer cyborgs. For the first time in long days, things felt all right.

  * * * * *

  The Cironan shuttle soared through the atmosphere and out into space, carrying a team of mechanics, a dusty beat-up captain, and a young pirilian.

  As they flew toward the HMS Dragon Huntress, Riff stared out the window and rubbed his eyes.

  "Bloody hell," he whispered.

  The dragon ship looked awful. A large hole, large enough to lead a horse through, gaped open on the roof, exposing Romy's attic. One wing was torn to shreds, and the dragon's snout—right below the bridge—was crumpled up. Soot and scratches covered the hull.

  "It's amazing that the damn boat's still afloat." Riff patted his wallet and looked at Midnight. "It's going to cost me everything I earned to remove you to fix the ship."

  The pirilian smiled. "Aren't you glad you found me then?"

  Of the two other vessels that had orbited Planet Cirona—the skelkrin Crab and Grotter's Barracuda—not a trace remained, only bad memories.

  The Cironan shuttle slowed its flight, approached the Dragon Huntress, and entered orbit beside it.

  Riff, Midnight, and the mechanics put on their helmets.

  "All right, boys!" Riff said. "You know what to do. Patch up the holes, smooth out the dents, a new paint job would be nice . . . oh, and can you take a look at the left hyperdrive engine? Makes a strange rattling noise."

  The team headed out, floating into
space, their tools ready. They got to work at once, hovering around the Dragon Huntress with welding tools, bolts, and wrenches that Twig would have drooled over.

  Riff remained for a moment in the shuttle with Midnight, and sudden sadness seeped into him. He stared out at the Dragon and sighed.

  "She's a good ship." He nodded. "She's home."

  Riff cleared his throat; it was suddenly scratchy. He rose to his feet and floated out into space, and Midnight floated with him. They opened the Dragon Huntress's outer door, floated inside onto the staircase, and closed the door behind them. Once the air was repressurized, they climbed the steps, opened the inner door, and stepped into the main deck.

  Everyone was waiting there.

  His shipmates. His friends. His family. They all stood facing him, their Alien Hunters badges pinned to their chests.

  Romy gave a huge wail and leaped forward. She wrapped her arms around Riff, squeezed him, and gave him endless kisses. Her tears streamed.

  "Oh, Riff! I was so worried. So worried for you." She sniffled. "Welcome back." Suddenly her eyes brightened. "Did you bring me any presents?"

  He nodded, reached into his pocket, and handed her a new counter-squares piece carved from wood. It was shaped like a poodle. Romy squealed in delight and raced toward her board game.

  Piston approached Riff next. The gruffle cleared his throat, stared down at his feet, and mumbled something about the engine coils and a job well done, but then a tear filled the engineer's eye.

  "Ah, curse it all!" Piston said and tugged Riff into a crushing embrace, lifting him off his feet. "Welcome back, laddie! I mean, Captain. I mean . . ." He had to put Riff down, pull out a handkerchief, and blow his nose. "It's good to have you back, sir."

  Twig leaped onto Riff next, hugging him tightly. "Did my wrench help?" the halfling asked.

  Riff laughed and handed it back to her. "It's deadlier than my gun, little one. It saved my life. Keep it handy."