Aquaria Burning

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Aquaria Burning Page 11

by Finn Gray


  Chapter 23

  Soria, Hyperion

  Rory had no time to so much as cry out as the floor gave way beneath him. He made a desperate grab for the ledge behind him and caught it with his fingertips. His rifle slipped from his grasp and he managed to kick out and snag the sling on the toe of his boot. An instant later, a rope dropped down alongside him and he grabbed hold as Oates and Marson pulled him free.

  “Good job hanging on to your weapon,” Oates said. “It was a stupid thing to do, but you’re probably going to need it before this is over.” He doubled the rope back around his waist where he’d been wearing it as a belt.

  “What the hells was that thing?” Marson asked, staring down into the abyss into which the monster had plunged.

  “I’ve never seen one before,” Oates said. “But it’s not the worst thing I’ve seen on Soria. Let’s just hope there’s only one of them. Come on. Let’s move.”

  From there the way grew steep. Moisture dripped from stalactites, making their path slippery. Several times Rory or Marson lost their footing and needed help to arrest their fall.

  “It’s a lot easier on the way down,” Oates said. “Of course, we won’t be leaving the way we came.”

  Rory halted in his tracks. “Look, we appreciate what you’ve done for us. Really, we do. But we’re about to go into a dangerous situation and you haven’t told us shit.”

  Oates stopped climbing, grabbed a stalagmite for support, and turned to look back at them. “What kind of shit do you want to know?”

  “Let’s start with what you were doing in this base in the first place.”

  “I was a marine, deployed here a lifetime ago. At least, it feels that way. I didn’t know where I was being sent; only that it was secretive. What I didn’t know was that I was assigned here not to serve, but to be a lab rat. This place is as much a research station as it is a military base.”

  Rory and Marson exchanged frowns. “What sorts of research?”

  “I don’t know the full extent of it, but my part had to do with radiation.” He sighed. “This is a long story. Let’s keep climbing while I tell you. I’m exhausted and if I stand here too long my body might decide it doesn’t want to keep moving.” As they continued their climb, Oates told his story.

  “For some reason, my body resists the effects of radiation. It doesn’t touch me at all. I didn’t know that when I arrived, of course. I guess they found something in my bloodwork. Things seemed normal at first. I was assigned to guard duty. The only thing that seemed out of the ordinary was they took a sample of my blood once a week. I thought it was strange, but they said it was a precaution since Soria was still a hotbed of radiation. After a while they started sending my squad out ranging. They gave us what they said were anti-radiation meds. Found out later they were placebos. Some of my crew got sick, others died. But not me. Wasn’t long after that they restricted me to quarters with no explanation. Finally, they dropped any pretense of it being a legit deployment.”

  Rory’s mind raced, trying to imagine what the man was about to say next.

  “They came while I was sleeping, pinned me down, and injected me with something that knocked me out. I woke up strapped to a bed, ankles and wrists cuffed. They had all kinds of tubes running in and out of me, had me hooked up to monitors.” He grimaced, then spat over his shoulder. “That’s when I learned what was really going on. Once they had me under their thumbs, the people, if you can call them that, who studied me got careless, arrogant. They’d let little things slip here and there. Other times they’d have conversations right in front of us. When you’re a lab rat they stop thinking of you as human. Anyhow, that was when I learned the Memnons had infiltrated the leadership of the base, and gradually rotated out the staff until everyone on base was one of them. They had a plan brewing.”

  “What was their plan?” Marson asked.

  “As far as it related to me, they wanted to develop a gene therapy that would transmit my radiation immunity to others.”

  “That’s why they aren’t worried about using nukes!” Rory said. “They can win the war without much hand-to-hand fighting if they’re immune to radiation and we’re not. Bastards.”

  “How did you get away?” Marson asked.

  “One person was different. A doctor.” His voice grew wistful, his eyes cloudy. “Gods, she was amazing! Brilliant and fierce. Sarcastic as the hells. I’d never met anyone like her.”

  “But she was a Memnon!”

  “No. The Memnons were holding her captive. They even kidnapped her parents to make sure she cooperated. The work was that important to them.”

  “What happened to her?” Rory asked.

  “She helped me escape, but remained behind. We loved each other, but she wouldn’t risk her family being harmed in retribution. She also said she believed there was good in the Memnons and thought she could make change from within. I guess she was wrong.”

  “You were in love with a Memnon?” Marson shot a glance in Rory’s direction as he spoke.

  “I told you, she wasn’t a Memnon. She was their captive.” Oates fired up for a second but deflated almost immediately. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter anymore. I can only assume they were successful in creating the therapy. They’ve turned this world to shit. It’s not going to be habitable for most humans. Those like me will be the only ones who survive.”

  “We’ve got to get off of Hyperion,” Rory said. “Do you think the base has a transport that could get us to one of the fleet ships?”

  “I have no doubt. You’ll need a pilot. I was never any good at that.”

  “I did a bit of flying as a civilian,” Marson said. “I could do in a pinch. I think.”

  “Better hope you’re up to the task,” Oates said. “It’s going to be dangerous.” He stopped and glanced up. “Looks like we’re there.”

  Chapter 24

  Southgull Island, Hyperion

  “Our best chance of escape lies in surprise,” Jude said. He kept his voice low, barely moving, even though they were speaking a language they doubted anyone who might be listening would know.

  “I agree,” Magda said.

  “And the sooner we do it, the better. In time, we might manage to earn their trust, but by then, things will have settled down. The Memnons will have organized their defenses. Their forces will no longer be focused on the war.”

  Magda tapped her chin with one long, lacquered fingernail, thinking. “That’s true. They’ll have that many more sets of eyes on us, and we’ll have fewer distractions to take advantage of.”

  “My thoughts exactly. I’ve seen a few transports come and go. If we could steal one, we could try and reach Simon, or at least reach the fleet.”

  Magda blanched, but she didn’t ask the obvious questions—What if they couldn’t get to the fleet? What if the fleet was already gone?

  Jude didn’t try to reassure her. She was a strong woman and could deal with her fears on her own. It was up to him to get them out of here.

  “You can fly one of those shuttles?” Magda asked.

  “The controls are virtually identical to the pleasure craft I’ve flown. Even the military craft I’ve ridden in are quite similar in terms of flight. They just have a lot of weapons added on.” He flashed a smile. “Don’t expect me to launch any missiles anytime soon.”

  “I’m certain you’d figure that out, too.”

  “I appreciate your confidence.” He embraced her, felt her head against his chest, took in the scent of her. He was fortunate to have her by his side. They’d each enjoyed their share of diversions in the time they’d been together, but that was of little importance. It was the partnership that mattered. Together, they had nearly conquered the world.

  Or so he had believed.

  “I think we should go right away. As soon as the opportunity presents itself.”

  “That is fine by me, but how do you plan on, I don’t know, unlocking the door?”

  Jude smiled. “I have a plan. Let’s make rea
dy.”

  They changed into athletic wear—snug fitting pants and shirts of stretchy, durable fabric, light, zip-up jackets, and shoes suited for running…or fleeing. When they were ready, Jude went to the com in the living area and pressed the button to call Storen.

  Two beeps and then the Memnon’s face filled the screen. “Vatchers! How may I help?”

  “We are wondering if there is a recreation facility here,” Magda asked. “Nothing out of doors, of course, but perhaps a gymnasium or a racquetball court.”

  “Absolutely we do! Every amenity you could possibly want. If you really want fun, there’s an old mayall court at the north end of the island. When things are normal, we can get up a game if you like!” Storen winked. He likely intended it to be friendly, but it served only to draw attention to his cybernetic eye.

  Jude stuck his head into the frame and forced a polite grin. “I fear the two of us are a bit too old for mayall.” Based on a game supposedly played by the first colonizers, the modern game of mayall was wildly popular and quite physical.

  “Speak for yourself.” Magda elbowed him in the ribs. “Old man.”

  “You heard my wife,” Jude said. “If Southgull forms a team she’ll be your first signing.”

  Storen chuckled. “Very good. I’ll meet you at your quarters and walk you to the fitness center. We’ll discuss contract details then.” The vid went black.

  “I think he likes you,” Jude said.

  “No thank you. He’s not that handsome.” She reached up and patted Jude on the cheek. “Besides, I’ve always preferred bosses to underlings.”

  Jude suddenly felt a surge of affection for his wife, a desire to keep her safe at all costs. “You know, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I don’t think they mean us harm provided we remain on their side. If we try and escape, there is a good chance we’ll die.”

  “Then it’s up to you to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Magda said. “My feelings haven’t changed. I’d rather die than remain a prisoner. You saw the way Storen looked at me. He’s just waiting for an opportunity, whether I reciprocate his feelings or not. And he won’t be the last. There’s something about wielding complete power over another person that brings out the very worst in a man sooner or later.”

  “But not a woman?”

  “Not many. On the whole, we’re more civilized than the male of the species.”

  Jude took her hands in his. “All right. If you’re certain, then we’ll get on with it.”

  “Darling, I’ve been ready to die since the day I realized my breasts had lost their battle with gravity.”

  Jude kissed her for what might be the last time. And, just for old time’s sake, he cupped her right breast and caressed the nipple with his thumb.

  “Don’t do that. This fabric is thin.”

  “I notice you didn’t push my hand away.” His right hand slid down the small of her back and over her hip.

  “That’s enough.” She pushed away with a note of regret in her voice. “You should have thought of that before setting your plan in motion.”

  He consulted his biowatch. “I think we have time,” he teased.

  “He’ll be here in a matter of minutes, which is admittedly enough time for you, but hardly enough for me.”

  “You are a cruel mistress, but you are correct. Places, now. Act one is about to begin.”

  Chapter 25

  Battlecruiser Dragonfly

  Sabre resisted the urge to open the throttle wide as she led the combat air patrol, CAP for short, around Dragonfly. The battlecruiser, along with most of the fleet, had taken up a position just beyond the range of the Hyperion satellite defense network. They waited to shepherd refugee ships, should any receive their message, to the gathering point at Juna, Hyperion’s moon. But what they were really waiting for was the order to completely abandon the Aquaria System. To run away with their tails between their legs.

  It was that thought that gave her the itch to send her Cobra barreling down to the surface of Hyperion. To unleash every last round, every missile, into the teeth of the enemy, and finish it all off with a kamikaze-style finale.

  Two thoughts held her back from that course of action: the knowledge that there were survivors she could still save, and Hunter. His face swam in front of her and a bitter lump formed in her throat. Would the end of Aquaria finally bring an end to the emotional vigil he’d been keeping since his wife fell ill, or would it cement his guilt?

  “Sabre, are you still with us?” Adam “Recess” Talia said, his voice clear on the wireless comm. Recess was a talented young pilot who sometimes slacked off too much for Sabre’s liking. There was also the little matter of him being connected to an Aquarian noble family, which rubbed her the wrong way, but that had more to do with cultural prejudice than his abilities as a pilot. Either way, she was stuck with him as her wingman.

  “Recess, I was awake long before your mom and her boyfriend conceived you.” A chorus of oohs rang out on the open channel.

  “Touché, Lieutenant.” To his credit, Recess always took his share of the ribbing without protest.

  There was a sharp beep and a light flashed on her RADS display. “I’ve got a bogey at two o’clock. Let’s check it out.”

  “We’ve got your six, Sabre,” Sola Kordes, callsign Cactus, said. She and Smoke, known to his parents, and positively no one else, as Hayden Toten, fell into position to watch Sabre’s and Recess’ backs.

  The bogey proved to be a private ship, the sort of luxury cruiser that super-wealthy university students tooled around on during holidays. When Sabre finally established contact, the group proved to be exactly that—a group of wealthy uni girls who had been on holiday at a remote mountain retreat, far from anywhere the Memnons would bother to attack.

  When the pilot finished her explanation, Recess chimed in. “Zoya Stepanov? Is that you?”

  “Who is that?” the pilot asked, puzzled.

  “It’s Adam Talia. I’m a pilot now.”

  “Really? I heard you’d joined the fleet but I figured you’d surely have crashed and died by now.”

  “Save the school reunions for later,” Sabre said. She gave the pilot instructions on how to proceed and dispatched Smoke and Cactus to escort the craft to Dragonfly. As she and Recess continued their patrol, she called Dragonfly on the wireless.

  “Dragonfly, this is Sabre. Is the commander on deck?”

  “This is the commander,” Graves replied.

  “Sir, we’ve got a Carnivale 3 personal cruiser en route to dock with Dragonfly. I need that cruiser set aside for my weekend leaves and retirement home. I promise I’ll never ask you for anything else.”

  “You realize there’s a war on, Sabre?”

  “I mean after we win the war, obviously, Sir.”

  Graves chuckled. “Tell you what. You win the war and then we’ll talk about it.”

  “Roger that.” Sabre smiled, breathed easier. In the midst of horror a touch of humor was welcome.

  They zipped along, Hyperion

  “You know, Sabre, I’ve been thinking,” Recess said on the private channel.

  “Really? First time for everything.”

  Whatever he was thinking, Sabre didn’t get to hear it. Just then, RADS lit up with multiple contacts.

  “Sabre! We’ve got bogeys at two o’clock!”

  “I see them. Identifying…” On the display, the small, red triangles that represented unknown crafts flashed, then changed to blue, each now labeled Copperhead C3.

  “Oh my gods,” she said.

  “What’s a Copperhead C3?” Smoke asked.

  “Older model fighters. They were mothballed when the first Cobras rolled out. They called them ‘crucifixes.’ You’ll see why when we get into visual range. She’s not as quick or maneuverable as the Cobra, but she’s better armored and is nearly the Cobra’s match in speed when moving in a straight line.”

  “Sounds like a torpedo,” Cactus said. Sabre didn’t like the visual the w
ords conjured. “I don’t suppose there’s any chance they’re piloted by refugees?” Cactus asked.

  “Sure, there is. There’s also a chance Smoke is not a virgin, but I’m not taking those odds.” She called in a report to Dragonfly. “Dragonfly, Sabre. We’ve got multiple contacts incoming. Copperhead C3s.”

  “Roger that. Scrambling alert fighters,” Cassier replied.

  Sabre’s heart raced as they closed in on the Copperheads. Gods, let them be bandits! I need this!

  “How do you want to play this, Lieutenant?” Recess asked.

  “We have to at least try to contact them,” she said, “but be ready for anything.” She called out a warning on an array of channels and finally got a reply.

  “Thank the gods!” said a woman’s voice. “We escaped from the air base at Makkau. All our birds were sabotaged or destroyed. We had to pull these old hens out of mothballs and get them ship-shape.”

  A dizzying wave of relief flooded through Sabre, but it vanished almost instantly. Something wasn’t right.

  “We’re engineers,” the woman continued. “We didn’t know what was happening after the first few hours. Communications were so sporadic. We were so relieved to get the call to evacuate. We didn’t know if anyone else was alive.”

  Sabre’s head spun. Her thoughts were oily things, hard to grasp. We escaped from the air base at Makkau. Makkau was in the Peacock Islands, which had been wiped out in the early hours of the war. As in sunk beneath the waves, like the legend of the Atlantians. That had happened long before the call to evacuate was issued.

  “I assume we are to join the fleet? Lieutenant?”

  Sabre gritted her teeth. These had to be Memnons! Traitors!

  The Copperheads were almost within weapons range.

  Trust your instincts. Don’t overthink this.

  But what if she was wrong?

  Smoke broke the silence. “Um, Sabre? What do we do?”

  There was no need for her to issue an order, because just then, the Copperheads launched their missiles.

 

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