The Red Girl

by Thomas Davis

  “Cease fire,” Nyasi abruptly yelled out. She then gestured for the warrior holding Ugan at gunpoint to stand down. “Commander Ugan…. The ship is now under your command.” Ugan adjusted his uniform as he approached her. “I will go sit with my sister in the infirmary. When we return to Samael, I will answer for my actions here.”

  “Yes Ma’am,” Ugan replied. “Helm, turn the ship around and get us back to neutral space immediately!”

  “Yes Commander,” a helmswoman replied.

  Nyasi walked off the ship’s bridge followed by the two warriors. They entered into the lift. One of the women pressed the button for the infirmary deck before taking her place next to the other warrior standing behind Nyasi. They all stood there in silence as the lift descended. Nyasi pressed the stop button on the lift’s panel, bringing it to a halt. She turned around to face the two masked women. Once again the two warriors dropped to their knees in deference.

  “Stand,” Nyasi demanded. The two women, in unison, rose to their feet and stood at attention. “Remove your helmets.” They reluctantly complied with Nyasi’s order. She examined their faces. The woman on the left was a seasoned fighter. Her scarred face betrayed no emotion. The girl on the right was the younger of the two and she was visibly upset. She had short burgundy hair and her skin tone was a lighter shade of red. The tattoo on the right side of her neck was that of the Buurta tribe. They were a mountain folk, mostly farmers. Her bright green eyes were wet with tears that she was refusing to let flow.

  “I’m sorry Ma’am. We failed you,” the girl spoke, her voice quivered.

  “I tasked you with bringing back my sister and you did.”

  “But…”

  “You succeeded in your mission.” Nyasi reached beneath her cape and handed the girl a piece of cloth, “Dry your eyes soldier.”

  “Thank you General,” The girl eventually accepted Nyasi’s gift and wiped her eyes.

  “What is you name girl?”

  “Daacad, Ma’am.”

  “Why did you hesitate on the bridge Daacad?”

  Daacad replied after a long pause. "I don't know."

  "Why?"

  "The order…. It didn't feel like the right thing to do."

  "But you still obeyed."

  "Yes Ma'am."

  Nyasi placed her hand on Daacad's shoulder, "there are sparse times when the orders you are given are wrong and it's up to you to challenge them."

  "How will I know the difference?"

  Nyasi removed her hand then turned to face the lift door, "you will know. When the time comes again, you will know." She pressed the button on the panel and the lift began to move again.

  Daacad thought back to the mission on Lhasa Station. The look in that boy’s eyes had gotten to her. She did what was necessary to save princess Adeola’s life. But still, taking a child’s father from him as he watched? Even the most seasoned warrior would feel the weight of such a deed in the core of their soul. She thought of her own mother, the leader of the infiltration team, who was clinging to life in the infirmary. She prayed for her mother’s fast recovery. She’s strong, a wound like that is no match for her, Daacad thought to herself.

  The lift doors opened up into the infirmary. Daacad was still full of questions but the time to ask them had passed. She and the other warrior followed behind Nyasi as a half excited medic rushed across the infirmary floor to meet them. “General, Your sister is in stable condition. Please allow me to escort you to her.” Nyasi followed the short man to her sister’s bedside. She nonchalantly held up her hand to order her warriors to wait outside of the room.

  Daacad watched as the door closed behind her. She wondered why the great princess and General Nyasi took an interest in her in those fleeting moments. She was just a girl from a small mountain village, far removed from importance. At that moment, in her heart Daacad vowed to be worthy of General Nyasi’s advice. She would dedicate her all to protecting her world and it’s people.

  Daacad scanned the infirmary for her mother. She then looked to the other warrior standing by the door. The woman nodded to her and the girl went off searching. There was no sign of her mother in the operations area. Save for a medical table stained with her mother’s blood. She continued her search to no avail. There was only one area left to inspect. Daacad had refused to look there but she knew it was cowardly not to do so. She entered into the morgue. On the far wall a ceremonial candle was lit. These candles were lit to honor fallen heroes. Beneath it, wrapped in a decorative blanket, was a body. The intricate patterns on the blanket were that of the Buurta mountain tribe. Daacad clenched her fist and bit her lip drawing a drop of blood. She held back her tears. Her mother would’ve considered such a display a dishonor. Warriors aren’t allowed such weakness. “Rejoice for the warriors who fall in battle,” her mother would say. “For Mars truly smiles upon them.” As hard as she tried, Daacad couldn’t bring herself to smile. She just wished her mother wasn’t gone.

  14 Picking up the Pieces

  David snapped awake. He coughed violently expelling dust and debris from his mouth and throat. Was this savage battlefield Lhasa? It was surreal. He felt pressure on his chest. He attempted to get up but a large column pinned him down. Luckily, part of the column landed on top of a razorbike. Otherwise he would’ve been crushed by it. He tried to wiggle out from beneath it. He managed to slip out as far as his crotch before a part of the bike broke off due to the weight of the column. This slightly lowered it, trapping him again. David would only have one chance at his next escape attempt. He pushed the column with all of his strength. When he felt he could move, he swung his legs out from beneath it and rolled to his side. The razorbike broke in half and the column smashed onto the ground an inch behind his back.

  David rested his spine against the column and gasped for air. He let out another hard cough because he had just inhaled a significant amount of dust. He was tempted to lie there until a rescue team noticed him, but then he remembered, “Buttons.” If David had that much of a problem freeing himself from the wreckage, there was no telling what kind of trouble a wimpy kid like Jake was in. He had to find him. “He can’t be that far. He was running right behind me,”

  David stood up then tossed his legs over the column and slid to the other side. The bike exploded and a storefront collapsed behind him into the spot where he was previous trapped. He jumped out of his skin then looked back, “Made it out just in time.” He would have to be cautious as he searched for Jake. Any one of these buildings could collapse at any second. He heard an all to familiar humming sound. He walked around a pile of rubble and there he found it, the alien sword. There was a piece of rubble stuck in the trigger-guard so the sword was activated and cutting into the ground. David jogged past the sword then he spotted Jake a few feet away. Jake was unconscious on the ground. David crouched down and started slapping him on the face with just enough force to wake him. After a few moments he came to.

  “Adeola?”

  “No, you’re not that lucky. C’mon we gotta get outta here.”

  “Assad?”

  “Okay. At least that big brain of yours is still intact. It might actually come in handy.”

  “Help me up?”

  “That was the plan, genius”

  David stood and grabbed Jake by his right forearm. He pulled and Jake let out a painful yell, “Wait! Wait! Wait! My left hand is trapped! Feels like it’s going to rip off.” David inspected the immediate area. Jake’s hand was pinned beneath a large piece of debris.

  A large hologram appeared in the sky. It was a member of the Station Security personnel with an urgent announcement. “Citizens of Lhasa. This is not a drill. This is a red alert. Please report immediately to your nearest evacuation facility where emergency teams will assist you with safely leaving the Colony.” The message repeated on a loop.

  “The clouds are gone,” Jake noticed out loud.

  “So?”

  “Take a look.”

  David looked up. Without the clo
uds the other side of the Station was clearly visible. Much of it was burning and there were large holes in the cityscape. “What the void?”

  “That flickering in the shields. That’s backup power. They’re not going to hold for long.”

  “So let’s get you outta here fast,” David was trying to lift the block on top of Jake’s hand. “I bet you’re glad you didn’t cut me in half earlier.”

  “Wait! I can’t feel my hand but my wrist feels wet.”

  “And?”

  “If… If you move the block I think I’m going to bleed out?”

  “So what do we do?”

  “You… You have to save yourself.”

  “That’s not an option, Buttons. Think of something better.”

  “Listen. If you stay we both die.”

  “I thought you were smart! That’s the best you can come up with?!!”

  “………..”

  “How’re you gonna see your alien girlfriend again if you die here?”

  "Okay. Okay. Let's figure this out," Jake got that look on his face. The look he gets when he's solving a puzzle,

  "Alright. I guess I'm speaking your language now.”

  Jake began running the numbers. At first he included David in the process but eventually he wasn't even listening to David's feedback. He was just thinking out loud. David caught on and let him work it out on his own. "Tourniquet. Lever. Sword. Shoes."

  "Shoes? Why are you starting at my shoes," David was puzzled.

  "You walked through that alley but there's no blood on your shoes."

  "There's none on yours either."

  "Exactly. That Arez was using a sword."

  "So?"

  “She was cutting through officers like melons.”

  “So. How was there no blood in the alley or on our shoes?”

  "It cauterizes wounds as it cuts, somehow. Where's the sword?"

  "It's right over th......" David's jaw dropped. While it was struck in the sidewalk the vibrations from sword's blade had created a small sinkhole. The sword was on already on the verge of falling into the pit and out of reach. David dashed to retrieve it. The ground cracked and the sword began its descent. He jumped onto his stomach and followed the weapon down into the hole with his right arm. If the sword flipped while falling it would slice his hand off. He lay there for a moment. David gradually stood up as he pulled his arm from the hole. The weapon followed his arm out, hilt in his grip. Both boys let out sighs of relief.

  "Alright, what now?"

  "Now," Jake couldn't believe the next words that would come out of his mouth. He also was unsure if he'd be able to go through with it. "Now.... You have to cut off my hand with it."

  "What?!"

  "My left hand is..." he stopped as he winced in pain, "it's completely crushed. This is the only way I'm getting out of here."

  "Damn." David jogged over with the sword. “You sure about this?”

  “Void no! But I think we’re out of options at this point.”

  David took a deep breath as he lined up the cut point and raised the sword high above his head. "Okay. Here goes...."

  "Pull the trigger on the hilt first, you moron!"

  "You just made this a lot easier." David pulled the trigger on the hilt and readied his swing.

  "This reminds of one the matinees that I saw. It was a war film. They were operating on this soldier on the battlefield. So the medic gave him a swig of..,,,,AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" David cut the left hand off above the wrist while Jake was pontificating. Jake rolled to his side clutching his stump. "Why didn't you warn me?!!!"

  "Listen Buttons, if we're gonna be hanging out you gotta stop talking so damn much. This was the manliest moment of your whole life and you almost missed it."

  "Point.... taken," Jake grunted.

  "Was that a pun?"

  "Yeah."

  "Alright…. That's more like it." David dropped the sword. He wrapped his arm around Jake’s back and helped him up.

  "You know it's common courtesy to give a guy a heads up before you cut his arm off."

  "Anything below the elbow doesn't count as an arm. I only cut your hand off."

  Jake let out a semi in pain laugh at the joke. "Wait. Grab the sword."

  "What?"

  "I don't think they'll be checking people for alien weapons at the escape pods."

  "Why do you want to keep it?"

  "It practically has sentimental value at this point."

  "Man. You are so weird," David said as he grabbed the sword from the ground with his free hand.

  "And I've had manly moments before. They all happened this afternoon but still."

  “About that. Did you and the alien girl?”

  “Her name’s Adeola.”

  “Adeola… Did anything, you know, happen between you two?”

  “……..”

  “You dog, something did happen. Spill.”

  “A gentleman doesn’t speak of such things, and… that’s princess Adeola to you.”

  “I hate you. Really, an alien princess?”

  The two argued as they hastily made their way to the escape pods.

  15 Apathy

  Catherine Fisher was in a daze. She picked herself up from the floor of her office. She must have blacked out during the Arez attack on the Station. Her office was a shadow of its former self – rubble adorned the shelf and desk. She unlocked the door and made her way into the hall. There used to be a long window in the hallway but all that was left of it was scattered shards. She peered through the shattered window outside. The cityscape was in ruins as emergency crews rushed about tending to the injured.

  Catherine's eyes filled with tears but she held them back from flowing down her face. She looked to the Governor's office building across the broken municipal plaza. She covered her mouth in horror. There was nothing left; a large gaping hole with debris floating about it had replaced the once beautiful creation. Through the hole she could see the flickering emergency energy shields, the only thing that was keeping the citizenry from all being sucked out into the cold indifference of space. It was clear to her that Governor Manning was dead along with her opportunities to move up the ladder of society.

  “Help!!! Please help,” a voice screamed. It was coming from down the desolate hallway.

  Catherine quickly walked toward the source of the voice. The voice was coming out of the open door of Louis Johnston's large office. The office was sound proof and if the door hadn’t been ajar, the plea would've gone unheard. She flung the door open and there he was. Louis was pinned beneath his gargantuan desk. It must have flipped over on top of him during the attack. His fancy suit was in tatters, his glorious hair was a mess and he only had one arm free. The rest of his body was beneath the desk.

  “Cathy? Cathy thank goodness. Hurry! Get help,” he managed to say through huffs. His face came alive with hope when he saw her. But Catherine just stood there at the center of his office.

  “Cathy, what?... are you okay?”

  Catherine looked at Louis then out the window to the large hole that was Author Manning's office building. She couldn't stop the tear that escaped from her left eye. She looked to the corner behind her. The coffee machine laid on its side on the counter. She walked to it, righted it then got to work preparing a cup.

  “Cathy? What’re you?” He coughed blood and his face was flushed. “There’s no time. We have to get out of here.”

  She ignored him and focused on making the coffee. The aroma filled the room as she poured it into his favorite mug. Slowly, Catherine picked up the mug and gently blew over it to cool it. Then picked a napkin up from the floor and placed it under the mug on top of her hand as she escorted the drink across the room. Catherine sat down on the floor next to Louis. She gently placed the mug on the floor within reach of his free arm.

  “Drink.” Her expression was poker faced.

  Louis looked at her with confusion dancing in his eyes. He wanted to ask if she was alright, but all he could say was, “What?
”

  “Please, drink it.”

  “Listen, Cathy. We’ve both been through a lot. You must be in shock but we...”

  “Drink it and I'll go get help.”

  Louis was visibly shaken by the odd request. “Please. Go get help!” His brave attempt at yelling brought an onset of coughs. Catherine ignored his distress. Rather than help, she let out a sigh then picked up the mug and presented it to him. With an unsteady hand, Louis accepted the mug and took a sip.

  “Delicious. Now let's...”

  “Finish it. It's your favorite blend.”

  Louis was about to protest but he was stopped by the look in her eyes. There was a distant, yet serene look in Catherine's eyes. It almost felt like she was staring through him – like she wasn’t seeing him even though they both were physically present. He nodded and she placed the cup to his lips. Carefully, she tilted the mug as Louis drank the contents of it with some spilling to the sides of his mouth. He was gulping down the hot drink as fast as he could. Catherine suddenly pulled back the mug from his lips.

  “Why?”

  “What?”

  “The Governor’s office? The coffee? Why?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cathy.”

  “We’re not leaving here until we sort this out. No more lies.”

  His eyes searched hers for a moment, then averted to the rubble around them. “Truth?” he started to say with a bite of his lower lip. “You’ve been eyeing my chair since you got here. Was I supposed to just hand it to you?”

  The strain in his voice was apparent. The pain was getting to him. “None of this…. None of this was personal, Catherine.” His eyes rolled back for a moment. He couldn’t stave off the pain any longer. “It’s just politics,” he smirked.