by M. R. Forbes
“Sheriff,” Rhonna said, appearing from a doorway behind them. She tossed something toward him.
An ax.
She was holding one too. A fireman’s ax, with a long wood handle and a sharp blade. She swung it hard into the back of the trife behind him, crushing its spine and knocking it down. She yanked it out, swinging it into the next trife’s face right before it could get its teeth on her.
Hayden turned with his new weapon, swinging it with enough force he decapitated a trife in one blow, chopping a second time and killing another.
“This way,” Rhonna said.
He glanced back, finding her in front of an open doorway. He retreated toward it, killing two more trife on the way.
The hissing of the second group echoed along the passageway as they found their way to the opposite side, intending to box them in as the smaller group had. Hayden ducked into the open doorway, and then Rhonna swung the metal door closed.
“Help me,” she said.
Hayden leaned against it, barricading it as the first of the trife hit. Then Rhonna got the locking mechanism engaged.
Hayden let go of the door, staying close in case the lock didn’t hold. The trife were smacking against it, throwing their weight into the door. They were too light to break through.
“I think we’re safe,” he said, turning around to survey the room they had entered. It was all business. Metal bulkheads and mostly empty shelves surrounded an old sleeping bag on the floor, along with a few sealed cans of food, a paper book, and empty bottles. A folded up piece of paper rested at the top of the sleeping bag, next to a sweatshirt bunched up for use as a pillow.
“The axes were resting against the wall,” Rhonna said. “I didn’t see them until I got inside.”
“Lucky for us,” Hayden replied. He bent over and picked up the paper, unfolding it. Then he smiled.
“What is it?”
“A little extra bit of luck.”
He turned it so she could see the labeled map of the ship they were standing in. It only took him a few seconds to find the room marked as the armory, two floors down and slightly farther aft.
“I don't feel that fortunate,” Rhonna said, pointing back at the door. The trife hadn’t given up trying to get in yet.
“We’ll have to wait a little while. Once the trife realize they can’t get in, they’ll leave a sentry nearby to wait for us, and then they’ll disperse. We’d be in worse trouble if we didn’t know where we wanted to go.” He hefted the ax. “This helps too.”
“Does anything scare you, Sheriff?”
“Lots of things scare me. That’s why I’m still alive. The trife? They don’t scare me. Not anymore. There’s a system to what they do. A certain amount of logic and reasoning and predictability. They aren’t evil. They’re just doing what they were made to do. People, on the other hand? I believe most of humankind is good, but it only takes a little bit of bad to negate it.”
“Pozz that,” Rhonna said, reaching up to the burn on her face.
Chapter 14
General James Stacker sat behind an old metal desk. It had once belonged to the soldier who had been in charge of Fort McGuire nearly two centuries earlier. It was a simple thing. Slightly rusted, like so many of the antique things that filled the modern world. A blotter sat on top of it, ancient stains against faded green, the outline of the officer’s handwriting pressed into the surface until the end of time.
James ran his finger along it, tracing the signature. He had been sitting in the chair for the last three hours, after heading to his quarters to get a couple of hours of sleep. As a replica and a Stacker, he didn’t need all that much rest to stay alert and awake. The numerous augmentations helped with that as well. He had high-density batteries to keep most of his body running.
He had spent the time behind the desk taking reports from his subordinates. Lieutenant Hong was on the western side of the Lincoln tunnel, keeping an eye on the path they had cleared through the connector to get onto the island. The old leaders of the planet had made a mistake leaving the tunnel intact and blocking it with cement. He would have collapsed the entire thing and let the water in.
There had been no sign of the ones that got away, either from Hong or from the operator of the drones that were hovering above the river. James guessed that the soldier had gone to ground, finding a place to hole up with the woman for the night, and maybe for a few days while they waited for his forces to give up on them.
As if they would.
That wasn’t how the Liberators worked. That wasn’t how he worked. Tinker had given him a task. He was going to carry out the order.
Mostly.
He leaned back in his chair. It groaned under his weight, threatening to collapse. For the tenth time, he wondered if he was doing the right thing with Nathan. He knew Tinker wouldn’t be happy he had allowed the other replica to live, but he had to believe his maker would understand. How could he look a man who looked just like him, who looked just like his father, in the eye and put a bullet through his skull? How could he not give him a chance to be part of their liberation, instead of a bloodstain in a subway tunnel?
He knew Nathan would prove useful. He was sure of it. The only thing that gave him cause for concern what that he also knew how the Stacker would think. Nathan wouldn’t be able to let his hatred of the Trust go. He wouldn’t be able to ignore it and focus on the essential tasks. Maybe he thought he could right now, but it would eat at him until he did something rash. James knew because he had done similar things before.
Regardless of anything, he would have to keep a close eye on his genetic twin. If there were any sign he would be trouble, he had to have the strength and conviction to finish his mission.
He heard someone coming and looked up as Doc entered the room. She was dressed in a fresh pair of Space Force fatigues, wearing the simpler body armor that had been standard issue toward the end of the war with the trife. They didn’t have a lot of the armor remaining, but as a doctor, she was too valuable to let run around unprotected. With her square jaw, short hair, and thin lips, James always thought she looked like a man in the uniform.
“Doc, come on in,” he said.
She stopped in front of the desk, coming to attention. “Sir, Alpha Platoon is ready to go, sir,” she said.
“Thank you, Major,” he replied. “At ease.”
She relaxed her posture, remaining in front of him. “What happened with Nathan, sir?”
He knew she was going to ask. “He’s agreed to join the Liberators.”
Her left eyebrow arched. “What did you say to him?”
“I promised him I would let him see the contents of the data chip his wife stole, as soon as we recovered it.”
Her other eyebrow arched. “Sir? I—”
“You’re worried about what Tinker will think, and whether or not he can be trusted. I’ve already considered that.”
“I’m sure you have, sir. But I’m more concerned about letting him see what’s on the chip. You don’t know what it is. How do you know it won’t turn him against us?”
“I’ll be there with him. If it’s something that could cause him to hurt us, I’ll kill him.”
“Just like that, sir?”
“If it comes to that. I’m hoping it won’t.”
“What about the Trust?”
“I’m not worried about the Trust. The trials are almost complete. They won’t be able to touch us once we’ve finished our work.”
“It’s a dangerous game you and your father are playing.”
“A game the Trust started playing first. They gave us a bad replicator after we gave them the technology in good faith. They made me into this.” He held up one of his prosthetic hands. “A fucking cyborg. So what if the replacements make me stronger? They aren’t flesh and blood.”
“There’s a supply ship due any hour now. What are you going to tell them about Nathan? And about the Spacers?”
“I’ll tell them Nathan is dead. The Spacer wi
ll be dead by then. We’ll track him down. He hasn’t crossed the river, which means he can’t have gotten far.”
“I spoke to the drone operators. They haven’t seen any signs of him.”
“He’s a Spacer. He knows about drone tech. He’ll be smart enough to stay out of sight.”
Doc continued to stand in front of him. Her face shifted, her expression becoming more worried. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Haven’t you already been doing that?” James replied.
“What is it with you and Stacker? I know you said he might be valuable. And I know he looks like you and maybe you feel something toward him because of that. But he’s a replica. There are hundreds just like him on Proxima.”
“On Proxima. There are only two here. Him and me. That’s what it is, Major. You can’t understand what it is to be the only one like me.”
“You’re Tinker’s General. You command respect from-”
“Tinker’s General,” James said. “Meaning I would be nothing without Tinker. I love him for making me, but I want to stand out to myself, for myself. I want someone who understands me. Nathan is that someone. But if he turns out to be untrustworthy? If this does turn out to be a mistake? I won’t hesitate to end his life. I won’t put Tinker’s work at risk.”
“James, Nathan is alive. You’re already putting his work at risk.”
“Too freely, Sarah,” James snapped. “You’re speaking too freely. Get back in line.”
She returned to her stiff posture of attention. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m going to get Nathan. Tell Sergeant Major Shoal to leave a Spacer bodysuit in my changing room for him. Then tell Buzzcut to prep the helicopter. We leave in an hour.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Dismissed.”
She saluted him, and then turned on her heel and left the room. He knew she wasn’t happy about his decisions. He didn’t care.
That’s why he was the General.
He stood up, sliding his finger across the signature one last time, tracing the looping lines of the last name.
Stacker.
It was the reason he had made Fort McGuire his home. That and the easy access to resources in the surrounding areas.
Starting over wasn’t without its necessary evils.
Chapter 15
Nathan did fall asleep, taking two hours to grab a little shuteye. He woke up in a cold sweat, eyes flying open in the middle of a nightmare that saw him reliving the moment he found Niobe dead. He slid off the bed and did some soft exercises, testing the patches Doc had used to fix up the wounds the Stalker had left. He slowly increased the effort, dialing up until he was breathless and sweaty, the nascent memories of the dream faded from the forefront of his mind.
He wanted to shower after that, but there was no shower in his room. He sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, wondering how to call for Doc to ask her about getting cleaned up. Then he decided that if he was a member of General Stacker’s Liberators now, he didn’t need her to guide him to the head.
He would find it himself.
He stood and went to the door, pulling it open. It led out into a long corridor with similar doors on either side, an old, cracked tile floor beneath his feet. It looked like someone had polished it recently, and despite its age and wear it still held some luster. He padded across the cool surface, walking calmly down the hallway.
One of the doors on the left opened. A woman in a dull gray uniform came out, nearly bumping into him. Her eyes widened at his presence, and she came to quick attention.
“General Stacker, sir. My apologies, I—” She stopped when she saw both his hands were real. She looked confused. They hadn’t told everyone they had brought him in.
“It’s Captain,” Nathan said. “Captain Stacker. I’m…” He trailed off, trying to decide how to compare the two of them in a way she would understand. “…like the General.”
She stayed at attention, her expression forced into calm. “Yes, sir,” she replied. “Private Shao, sir.”
The private had left the door to the room open. Nathan looked past her to the inside. It was another sickbay, a bed with a man in it. His arm was packed with bandages, his face bruised. Nathan recognized him as one of the soldiers he had fought at the hospital.
A chill ran down his spine. Less than twenty-four hours ago, these people had been trying to kill him. Now he was one of them?
“Nathan?”
He turned to see Doc coming toward him down the hallway. He didn’t know her rank, or if she had a rank, so he wasn’t sure if he should salute her or not. He waited for Private Shao to react.
“Major Kain,” the private said.
Nathan came to attention. “Major, ma’am.”
She smiled. “At ease. Both of you.” She looked at Nathan. “General Stacker told me you agreed to join us. Welcome aboard.”
“Thank you, Major,” Nathan said, calming his posture. “I was looking for the showers.”
“Elaine, carry on with whatever you were doing. I’ll take care of Nathan.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Private Shao said, heading off.
“You look like you were out fighting trife again,” she said, looking him over.
“I was doing some exercise, ma’am.”
“Haven’t you gotten enough exercise recently?” She laughed. “Come on. I’ll take you to the showers. I was coming to get you anyway. We’re leaving in thirty minutes.”
“I only need three, ma’am.”
“I figured. You’re a career soldier, right?”
“I would have been, ma’am. If things had been different.” He swallowed the anger and hurt that came with that statement. It wasn’t her fault.
She started walking. He walked with her.
“Permission to speak freely, Major?” he asked.
“Of course,” she replied. “Whatever I can do to help you get acclimated.”
“How long have you known the General?”
“Of all the questions you could have asked me, that’s the first?”
“I have to start somewhere.”
“Eight years. I wasn’t always under his direct command. I did my medical training in Edenrise. Tinker has a full facility there. I’m confident it’s the best one on the planet. From there, I was deployed in Virginia for a while, the area around Edenrise. I helped patch soldiers who were wounded by the trife. Tinker realized I was too good of a soldier and medic to waste down there, so he sent me up to work under the General.”
“What do you think of him?”
“Isn’t that like asking me what I think of you?” She smiled. “He’s a hard man. He’s also a soft man. Loyal to a fault. Honest to a fault. Sometimes too emotional. But the soldiers love serving under him. He’s a natural leader.”
Honest to a fault. That was what Nathan needed. He wanted to know from someone else how much he could trust what James had told him. When they got the data chip back from Sheriff, would he keep his word to let him see the contents? Her words helped him believe he would.
They reached the end of the corridor and turned left. They stopped a few meters down, at the door marked as a head.
“Three minutes. I’ll be waiting right here. Take any longer, and I’m coming in to get you.” She smiled to show him she was joking.
He nodded and entered the room. There were a few stalls and a few sinks. The showers were in the back, an open room with eight shower heads. He was by himself.
He turned the water on. It was cold, and it felt good that way. There was soap on a shelf against the wall, and he grabbed it and quickly lathered up and cleaned himself off. He shut off the water and dried himself. He had forgotten to ask for fresh clothes, but it seemed Doc had realized because there was new underwear waiting for him. Simple unbleached cotton. He put it on and went out into the hallway. Doc was in the same position, acting as if she hadn’t moved a muscle.
“That was three minutes and twelve seconds,” she said, her face stern.
“My apologies, ma’am,” he replied.
“Next time, bring your clothes, too.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her face softened. She put her hand on his shoulder. “How are the patches holding up?”
“They’re doing great, ma’am. No problems at all.”
“Good. Let’s head over to the armory. General Stacker requisitioned a Spacer bodysuit for you.”
“You have Spacer bodysuits?”
“General Stacker does. He wears one beneath the Mark Three.”
“The armor he wears?”
“Yup.”
“Where did he get it, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I don’t mind. I told you I would help you get acclimated. Tinker made it. He was a scientist and engineer long before he became the path to the future.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ll let General Stacker explain that to you. Or maybe you’ll get to meet Tinker in person. In any case, he used components sent from Proxima, plus some of his special sauce. The armor is third generation, one of a kind. He made it to keep General Stacker safe.”
“He can’t make more?”
“Not like that. It’s all hand-built. That’s where he got his name. Tinker, I mean. Because he likes to work with technology.”
“What’s his real name?”
“Everyone calls him Tinker. He calls himself Tinker.”
They reached the door out of the hospital, stopping at a small desk that was occupied by a thin woman in a gray uniform. The eagle and star logo were painted haphazardly onto the right breast.
“Nathan Stacker is being discharged,” she said to the woman.
“Yes, ma’am,” the woman replied. She had an ancient tablet device on the desk, and she typed something into it. Then she looked at Nathan. “Good hunting, sir.”
“Thank you,” Nathan replied.
They left the hospital. Nathan looked up when he got outside, into the blue sky and the sun above. It was amazing. He looked down at the manicured grass, the repaired cement walkway, the buildings. This was more like what he had seen in the streams on the Central Datastore. Earth in all its beauty.
