Shadowstrike

by T W Iain

  Then he spun sharply to Cathal. “But I need assurances. Lasko, you’d have to go as far from the basin as you possibly could. Any signs of the company, and you’d need to move away. You can’t have any contact with Kaiahive.” He glanced round at Ryann. “Or anyone involved with the company in the past.”

  Ryann ignored Murdoch’s glance, and watched as Cathal nodded.

  “He says there’s nothing to hold him here anyway.”

  Murdoch smiled. “Then I believe we have our answer. Kesia!”

  The NeoGen to Cathal’s left, the one that was not holding him, stepped forward. She raised her hand and brushed her face, like she was pushing hair from her eyes.

  “Kesia, I’d like you to escort our friend to the hatch.”

  Kesia nodded. Her eyes twitched, as if she wanted to look at Cathal but was stopping herself. Again, her hand rose towards her face.

  It was a familiar movement, but Ryann couldn’t place it.

  “I never liked the sight of you in Haven’s quarantine, Lasko. I can’t say it’s been a pleasure meeting you, and I dearly hope I never set eyes on you again. Kesia will take you to the hatch, and this will soon be all behind you.”

  Cathal nodded, then turned and followed Kesia. The NeoGen was already at the door.

  <‍Good luck,‍> Ryann sussed, forcing herself to believe that he heard her words.

  He didn’t reply, or show that he’d heard her. He walked, shoulders back and pace steady. It was a walk she’d seen many times before, a silent defiance, a tread that was solid in what it believed.

  Then Murdoch glanced at Kesia. The NeoGen returned the look, and for a moment her brow furrowed. She, in turn, looked to Cathal, then back to Murdoch, and nodded. Once.

  Murdoch smiled.

  The hair on the back of Ryann’s neck stood tall, and she wanted to rub her skin, to wipe away the cooling layer of sweat.

  She’d forgotten something vital‌—‌Murdoch could not be trusted.

  Her mouth opened and closed, the air drying it out. Words formed in her head, and she pushed them as hard as she could into Cathal.

  <‍They’re going to kill you!‍>

  But the door closed, and Cathal was gone.

  The canopy of leaves undulated. The moon shone down, the occasional wispy cloud dimming it. The breeze blew across Brice’s face, carrying the scents of the forest‌—‌the honest scents, of plants and soil. The taste of decay was a distant note, nothing Brice need worry about.

  He only meant to sit for a moment, but the moment stretched on. Brice breathed deep and slow.

  This was peace.

  He thought he’d grabbed moments like this before, when he sat on the concrete roofs of hold-outs and stared across to landing pads. But back then, in the basin, there was always the threat from Nyle. And when he sat with Cathal, there was his old commander’s stench. Reminders that this moment was only temporary.

  But now, Brice was free. He could leave, travel beyond the fence. There was no Nyle. And Cathal…

  Brice swallowed.

  He had to be realistic‌—‌Cathal had lost control of himself, and one of the ghouls had approached him. There was only one realistic outcome.

  The breeze picked up, stinging Brice’s eyes. He wiped them dry.

  He should move. He wasn’t free yet. There was still the walk to the fence, and those ghouls were out there somewhere.

  Brice turned his head, and something moved.

  A shape, walking behind the trees, along the same path he’d taken to reach this plateau.

  He focused, concentrating on its trace. And then he smiled, surprising himself. He raised a hand as the figure crept round a tree, where the path met the open space.

  Deva wore her tattered jacket, with tape over a tear on the back, and one pocket hanging off. Stuffing showed on a shoulder too. But, somehow, it suited her. Damaged, but practical.

  She raised her hand in response as she walked through the grass. When she came closer, she nodded, then sat.

  Pulling her knees up to her chest, she looked out over the treetops. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

  Brice nodded, but he didn’t know if she saw. She carried on talking.

  “This was my favourite place. Whenever things got bad, whenever I needed a moment to myself, I’d come here, and sit. Just like this. I’d look into the distance, and I’d know that there was so much more out there. That what happened here was inconsequential. That there were so many more opportunities. It made me feel good, being here. Helped me face all the crap with the tribes and the demons.”

  She turned to Brice, then glanced behind him. “Thought you were with Axe.”

  “I was. We ran into a spot of bother.”

  “Okay.”

  She ran her eyes over him. Brice glanced down, saw the dark stains on his clothes. There was no way she could avoid the coppery tang in the air.

  “He didn’t get you, then.”

  “Get me?”

  Deva nodded. “Siren‌…‌she told him to‌…” She waved her hands and shook her head.

  It was obvious, now that Deva mentioned Siren. She’d given Brice one job, one part of her plan. After that, he was surplus to requirements.

  “He didn’t get a chance,” Brice said.

  “What happened?”

  “Short story‌—‌old adversaries and friends, demons and ghouls. I managed to get away.” He had no desire to relive those events. Already, Nyle’s death meant nothing. And he didn’t want to think about Cathal. So he turned the question around. “What about you? Bit far from the Warren.”

  “Not far enough.” Her mouth opened and closed a few times, like she wanted to say more. Then she shook her head and turned back to the sea of trees. “It’s time to move on.”

  “Running away?”

  “Walking. There’s nothing here for me. The fence isn’t going to be a problem, so I’m going.”

  “Just like that?”

  Her brow furrowed as she faced him. “What do you mean?”

  “No pack, no supplies.” He dropped his eyes to her waist. “Not even a weapon.”

  She shrugged. “Got everything I need right here.” She patted her jacket, then dipped the hand into a pocket. It came out holding something long and thin.

  “A screwdriver?”

  “Don’t knock it. This thing’s saved my life.” She turned it, slowly. “Well, not this exact one. I lost my favourite. But this one was in the Warren, part of some tool kit they dragged from a drop. It’s not the best quality, but it’ll do. And it’s sanctioned too.”

  “Sanctioned?”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t know. Mech stuff.” She waved the screwdriver vaguely. “On craft, everything’s monitored by the systems, and the tech checks that nothing is wrong. Someone tries playing with the hull, or the mechanics, or anything like that, things could go wrong. But sanctioned tools have this chip thing in them, lets the system know there’s nothing malicious going on.” She shrugged again. “Your mate Bug‌—‌Piran. He’d understand it.”

  That name shot through Brice, and he pictured the man. He could imagine Piran talking to Deva, could almost hear his innuendos and her come-backs.

  Piran was down there, with Eljin, in the Warren. They were probably asleep‌—‌or trying to rest, before they tried to steal a Proteus from the ghouls.

  “So what now?” Deva’s voice pulled Brice back to the plateau. She’d sealed the screwdriver back into her jacket. “You told the other tribes, right?”

  “Most of them.” He almost mentioned the ones that had been destroyed by the ghouls. “Think there could be a good turn-out tomorrow.” He smiled, but it felt forced.

  Deva hesitated, then asked, “And what about you? What are you doing?”

  He shrugged. “Not sure.” Brice felt flushed. “Don’t think there’s much for me here, either.”

  “So you’re leaving too. Makes sense. We both walked in‌—‌over the fence, I mean‌—‌so we both walk out.”

  “Looks
that way.”

  “Then what? Any direction in mind?”

  Brice tilted his head back. The clouds were thicker now, and the breeze was cold. A few stars still flickered, but many were hidden.

  “No idea.”

  And, suddenly, the idea of leaving felt wrong. It still made sense, but in a cold way that didn’t feel right.

  “You’ll be fine though. I know you can look after yourself.” She laughed. “Think it annoyed Siren, how you could fight so well.” Deva cast him a look. “Where did you learn that anyway?”

  Brice shook his head. There was no way he could explain about his embedded lattice or whatever it was. Not to Deva.

  “Training,” he said, and when her look told him she wanted more, he continued. “Used to get a kick out of it, back in Haven. I’d train with my crew, then do extra sessions. Used to rope in anyone, no matter what they were like.” A memory rose, a sweat-covered face that still managed to smile. “There was this one girl, Ronat. Used to try so hard to beat me, but I knew her weakness. She’d stop thinking, and she’d overstretch. All I had to do was wait, then push when she was unbalanced. She tried compensating, but I’d read her slight hesitation, and I’d know I only had to goad her into a couple more attacks before she did overstretch.”

  He opened his mouth to say more, then shut it. But he smiled. Those had been good times. She’d almost got the better of him a few times, though‌—‌but she’d also taught him patience.

  Brice wondered how she was coping up on Metis.

  “Maybe we could join forces. If you can put up with a girl whose only companion is her screwdriver. I don’t know‌…‌it would be good to have company.”

  The company. They stretched everywhere. Haven had been a speck of an operation to Kaiahive. This place, with its tribes and its drop-zone, was another part of Kaiahive. And their tendrils would creep across the whole planet and beyond.

  And now, Brice understood how Kaiahive would never stop. They’d hunt both of them down.

  “What do you think‌—‌you want to team up? Just across the fence, see how it goes.”

  The fence.

  Brice thought of the way Cathal collapsed, and how the fence had killed that man. He thought of how it trapped everyone and everything in this place, except himself and Deva.

  And that meant it trapped Piran and Eljin.

  “Brice? You okay?”

  “They’re going to die.”

  He didn’t realise he’d spoken out loud until Deva asked, “Who?”

  Brice faced her. “Siren’s plan‌—‌there’s too much that can go wrong. It’ll never work.”

  Deva nodded. “Especially with the other Proteus.”

  “What?”

  She started, like she’d been slapped. “I‌…‌didn’t I mention it? I went past the drop zone, and there’s a second craft. I saw four more ghouls get off. But‌…‌but she’s got that diversion going on.”

  “Which was always a long-shot, even with four ghouls. But eight?” He shook his head. “They’re as good as dead.”

  “All the more reason to get away. Besides, who cares if she dies? Good riddance!”

  “Not Piran and Eljin.” Brice clenched his fists. “They’ve done nothing to deserve this. And they’re my friends.”

  Because they were. Without his crew‌—‌his family‌—‌Brice had to grab what he could. And maybe Piran and Eljin wouldn’t be his first choice of companions, but they were the only survivors of Haven still around. He couldn’t abandon them. Not when that psycho in charge of the tribe was leading them on a suicide mission.

  “Friends,” Deva repeated, softly. Then she turned to Brice. “I almost had one, once. On that Proteus’ crew. You know, the one I stowed away on. She was called Isold, and she was the only one who really accepted me.” A flicker of a smile flashed across Deva’s face. “If things had been different, I know we would have been good mates.”

  She shuddered, the colour draining from her face. “And I watched one of those demons kill her. It was right in front of me. There was nothing I could do to stop it.” She sniffed, choking back a sob. “Before that, on Metis, it was like I existed in a bubble. The freak with no lattice. They’d play jokes on me. Oh, they’d say it was just a bit of fun, that they didn’t mean anything. But then they’d suss, standing right in front of me, and I knew they were laughing at me.”

  Deva sniffed, and wiped her nose with the back of one hand. “When Siren took me into the Warren, I kept to myself. I didn’t want to get close to anyone. Not that I liked most of the tribe anyway. But I didn’t want to feel that pain again. I didn’t want to lose a friend. You know?”

  Brice nodded. He knew that pain far too well.

  “But they’re not all bad. Soldier’s okay. Don’t think we’d be friends, but I wouldn’t like to see her dead. And there are a few others.” She glanced at Brice, then turned away. “But I don’t want friends. I don’t want to lose them.”

  Her breathing was shallow and fast. She shuffled, wrapping her arms tighter around her knees.

  “I’ve lost too many friends,” he said, their faces flashing through his mind. He welcomed them, every one. “I’ve seen friends injured and die, I’ve had them disappear. One, he was so badly injured that‌…‌that the only think I could do was give him peace.”

  She turned her head, and there was a flash of fear in her eyes. But it softened when he shook his head.

  “And one friend, he changed. He saved my life so many times, and I suppose I saved his. But I watched him become a monster.” He swallowed. “I’ve lost too many friends. And that’s why‌…‌that’s why I can’t leave. Not yet.”

  “Bug and Dart.” Deva held up a hand, shook her head, and then said, “Piran and Eljin.” She smiled. “Yeah. They were‌—‌are two of the good ones.”

  Brice laughed. “Eljin can be a moody bugger at times. And Piran‌—‌one of these days he’s going to get such a slap for the crap he says. But you’re right, they’re good. They’re my friends.”

  “And we can’t leave them behind.”

  “We?”

  Deva smiled‌—‌no, grinned.

  “You know I don’t have a plan, right?” he said. “Siren won’t be too happy with us interfering either. And then there’s the extra ghouls.” He thought‌—‌dreaded‌—‌she’d back down, tell him she was leaving, but her grin grew with each sentence Brice spoke. “You know there’s probably nothing we can do.”

  “Probably,” Deva said. “But I’ve seen you against the demons. If anyone can save your‌…‌our friends, it’s you.”

  Cathal followed the one called Kesia. She walked slowly, and the pace tortured him.

  He wasn’t stupid. Cathal knew the promise of freedom was a lie, and that Kesia had instructions to kill him. But it would be freedom from his suffering. It would be like Tris, back in the pit. Cathal only now understood how Brice had saved Tris by ending his life.

  A thought crossed his mind‌—‌would Ryann understand, too?

  He should have tried sussing to her, but there was nothing he could say. He knew her pleas for his survival were pointless, but telling her that he wanted to die would have torn her up inside. And she was already so frail.

  He’d felt that, the moment she’d stepped into the room. He’d recognised her straight away, her presence burning bright and warm when he wanted the dark and cold. But she was suffering.

  Would they all be better off dead, the whole crew? Ryann was a prisoner, Brice was alone once more. Cathal was being led to his execution, and Tris was already dead.

  That just left Keelin.

  They reached the hatch, and the grey ghoul turned. Like it was waiting for him‌—‌no, like it was waiting for Cathal to give an instruction.

  He nodded. The ghoul opened the hatch, and they both stepped through.

  What had the man called her? Kesia. Nice name, but it didn’t suit her.

  <‍Keep walking,‍> she told him, her voice clear through his lattice.<
br />
  <‍Why not do it here?‍>

  <‍Keep walking.‍> This time, there was a moment of hesitation in her voice. Again, it felt like she was waiting for Cathal to tell her what to do. She brought a hand up to the side of her face and brushed something away.

  He’d seen that movement before. Many times.

  And, like an explosion tearing through his mind, he knew who she was.

  <‍Now.‍>

  The insistence in her voice was forced. Because she wasn’t used to ordering anyone around. Especially not Cathal.

  But he nodded, and walked down the ramp, onto the grassy soil of the landing pad. She urged him on, and he descended the incline, then walked along the path between the trees.

  <‍He wants this done as far away from the Hermes as possible, right?‍> It was easy to talk to her. It always had been.

  <‍Wants what done?‍>

  He stopped, turned to face her.

  She towered over him, and that felt wrong. Cathal recalled climbing into the Proteus, how the top of her head would be up to his shoulder.

  And he smiled as memories‌—‌good ones‌—‌rose.

  <‍I know who you are,‍> he told her.

  <‍I am Kesia. NuGamma Eksi.‍> Her voice was a pained monotone. <‍And you need to keep walking.‍>

  Cathal shook his head. But he turned, and walked on.

  <‍No,‍> he said. <‍That’s not your real name, is it? That’s not who you were.‍>

  <‍Quiet. Just walk.‍>

  <‍And you know me, don’t you?‍> The words came easier now. <‍Cathal Lasko. I commanded the crew. Ryann was my second. Brice was the newest crew member, and maybe I was unfair to him at times. Tris was our crew’s tech, and despite his immaturity he did a good job.‍>

  The memories were bitter-sweet now, and he savoured them.

  <‍And then there was the pilot. I’ve never known a pilot with such natural ability. It was an honour to have her on my crew.‍> Cathal didn’t turn, didn’t want to confront what they’d done to her. But in his mind he saw her, as she had been. <‍It was an honour to work with you, Keelin.‍>

  She froze.

  Keelin.