Shadowstrike

by T W Iain

  Siren muttered, Brice only catching a few words. Deva responded, and the two of them argued, quietly‌—‌too quietly for Brice to hear. If Piran or anyone else interjected, he didn’t catch them.

  Then the barrels disappeared from above Brice’s head. “Okay. We’ll meet. Fairy, get this hatch open.”

  Metal ground on metal as Brice turned slowly back to Ryann. He raised his hand high and gave another thumb’s up.

  She waved in response, and Brice heard a voice that wasn’t hers. He recognised it, though, and it sent a warm tingle down his spine.

  <‍Thanks, Brice. And sorry I had to leave you back in Haven.‍>

  Keelin gave Brice a nod, and he couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

  Her sisters lowered the barrier and dropped their weapons. She sensed reluctance, but only from a couple.

  Keelin turned her attention to Brice, worried at the pain that was evident in his voice. His trace vibrated strangely, with a whole clash of emotions. Too many for her to deal with now. She needed to focus.

  This wasn’t over yet.

  The hatch on the Proteus opened, inch by inch. They must be using the manual release. Keelin had never had to do that, and she never particularly wanted to. But someone was turning that cog.

  And then they exited the craft.

  She automatically ran their images through the records, seeking matches. But she’d know the first one out anyway. She knew more about Piran than the facts and figures that scrolled across her lenses. But he never used to look that gaunt, or slouch so much.

  Next came a small female, and the records told Keelin this was Deva Verga, a stowaway from Metis. Technically, that made her a criminal, but Keelin couldn’t help but admire anyone who had tried so hard to escape Kaiahive.

  Finally, a tall female walked out. Keelin again ran through records, and found a match with ‘Siren’. There was restricted data, and Keelin scanned this too, learning of the woman’s past crimes. There were many of them, and they were bloody and violent. She was someone Keelin would not easily trust.

  “Come,” she said to Ryann, and the two of them stepped down to join the discussion.

  She pushed gently into the Proteus, searching for traces. And so Keelin understood that the one called Soldier was dead, as well as Eljin. A wave of emotion flooded over her, but Keelin pushed the thoughts and feelings down‌—‌she would save grieving for later. For now, she needed to concentrate.

  Her sisters stood in a line, except for Dia, who stood a pace in front. In a way, this made sense‌—‌after all, she was NG2, the second of their kind after Enya. But her face was severe and her muscles tense. She would not make things easy for Keelin.

  “Only three of you?” There was naked aggression in Dia’s voice as she sneered at the trio who stepped from the Proteus’ ramp.

  “Four,” said the one called Deva, and she knelt down beside the ramp, reaching out to help the fourth figure climb to his feet.

  Keelin almost ran to meet him. Ryann gasped.

  Brice looked terrible. He hunched over, right arm hanging at an unnatural angle by his side. Keelin caught the scent of blood still leaking from his wounds. He staggered, using his unbroken hand to support himself against the pitted hull of the Proteus.

  <‍Quicker we get this done, the quicker Ryann can see to you, Brice,‍> she sussed. He smiled, although that clearly took effort

  “Just about four, then. All that’s left.” Dia snorted. “Tell me, why should you live when everyone else is dead?”

  “Why should you kill us?” Deva stood tall, meeting Dia’s eyes, even though she was about half the size of the NeoGen. Keelin was impressed with the girl’s guts.

  “We have no need,” said Ennis, from the left of the group.

  “Apart from completing what we came here to do,” said Dia. She leaned down, towering over Deva. “You know there’s nothing you can do to stop us.”

  Deva didn’t step back. Instead, she smiled. “Maybe not. But we haven’t made it easy for you so far, have we?”

  <‍She has a point,‍> Ennis sussed. <‍Even you’ve got to admit that they’ve been worthy opponents, Dia.‍>

  Dia snorted. “You’ve provided some entertainment, but opposition? I think not.”

  “We held you back long enough.”

  “Please! You think we couldn’t have taken you all out with a single weapon? Our shots were aimed to instil fear, nothing more. Where’s the pleasure in killing from a distance?”

  “What of those you shot, then?” There was a slight tremor in Deva’s voice, but she still met Dia’s eyes.

  Dia snorted again. “You don’t question me. You’re nothing! We’re here to finish you off, and that’s what we intend to do.”

  “And you speak for everyone, do you?” Brice’s words ended in a cough as he pushed himself from the Proteus and stood, wavering, on his own two feet. His face was set firm, now showing no signs of pain‌—‌even though Keelin couldn’t help but notice the way he held himself, the way his body was on the verge of collapsing‌—‌and he looked from Dia to the NeoGens behind her.

  “We have a chain of command, and I’m at the top. What I say, goes.”

  “Not any more.” Those words were muttered, and it took a fraction of a second for Keelin to realise she’d even heard them. And when she did, the speaker was already moving.

  Siren reached a hand round to the back of her trousers, then flung it forward. She brought her other hand up, steadying the Preben, as she aimed it at Dia’s head.

  The place erupted in action.

  Ryann heard Brice cry out, “No!” as he staggered forward, his good arm held out toward Siren.

  Siren squeezed the trigger, but Dia had already lunged forward. One hand clasped round Siren’s wrist, and Ryann heard the sharp snap of bone a fraction before the weapon fired into the air. The Preben fell from Siren’s fingers.

  <‍Dia, No!‍> Keelin cried out, as she raced across the grass.

  Dia turned her head and smiled. She lifted Siren from the ground. The woman balled her free hand into a fist, and hammered it onto Dia’s head.

  <‍This is my job, traitor.‍> Then Dia turned back to Siren, seemingly oblivious to the blow she’d struck. <‍And she needs to die.‍>

  Dia shot her hand forward. Siren convulsed as Dia’s talons ripped into her stomach. Siren coughed, sending blood splattering onto Dia’s face.

  The NeoGen laughed. Her arm bulged as she forced her hand further in. Siren’s back bulged, and her jacket turned red.

  She coughed once more, then stopped convulsing. Dia pulled her sodden arm free and let Siren’s empty body collapse to the ground.

  Dia roared, and spun to face Deva. The NeoGen brought out her arms, and rocked back, ready to attack.

  <‍Stop!‍> Keelin ran fast, but Ryann knew she’d never get there in time.

  “No!” Brice pushed himself in front of Deva, a bloody screwdriver in his left hand. There was agony in his expression, but also determination.

  Dia flexed her fingers, and laughed.

  Brice forced the nausea down. He focused on keeping his body steady, and his eyes on the ghoul.

  “You don’t need to kill her. Or any more of us.”

  The ghoul looked from Brice’s face to the tool in his hand. It tilted its head, and its nose twitched.

  “So you’re the infamous anomaly. The freak who kills subjects and infected. The one who’s impervious to their bite. And now you think you can defeat me?”

  “Frankly, I don’t want to find out.”

  The ghoul’s nose twitched again. “But you’ve already killed one of our sisters. No, two. Sure you don’t want to go for the triple?” The beast smiled, and waved the fingers on one hand, beckoning Brice on.

  He wouldn’t be intimidated by this thing. Nor would he be goaded into a rash move. “I only killed one, and I didn’t want to do that. It was self-defence.”

  “Then how do you explain our fallen comrade over there?” The beast waved
a hand. Brice didn’t turn, even though others did. He knew what they’d see‌—‌Ronat’s body, between the two Proteus craft.

  “She was protecting me. She saved my life.”

  The ghoul’s body shook with mirth. “You expect us to believe that? Why would one of our sisters have any consideration for a pathetic thing like you?”

  “Because we were friends.” Brice paused, and glanced behind this obnoxious creature. The grey faces turned to one another. They appeared unsettled.

  “Friends?” The ghoul spat the word like an insult.

  Brice nodded, once‌—‌and even then his vision blurred. “Before she was changed, we trained together in Haven. Back when she was called Ronat. And the one over there,” and he pointed the screwdriver at Keelin, “is a very good friend. She’s the best pilot I know. She risked her life to save others. And she even put up with the old me, back when I was a jerk.” He took his eyes off Dia now, and turned to his friend. “Good to see you again, Keelin.”

  Keelin bobbed her head, and the corners of her mouth turned up. That seemed to cure some of Brice’s nausea.

  “And you,” he said, turning his attention back to the ghoul. “Dia.” He let that sink in, and knew from the shuffling of the ghouls that they were trying to figure out how he’d heard the name. “But that’s not your real name. You had another one, before someone turned you grey and messed about with you, inside and out. You used to be someone else. And that person’s still in there. Dive deep enough, and you’ll find her.”

  Brice coughed, the convulsions almost collapsing his legs. But he didn’t move his gaze from Dia’s eyes.

  She took a deep breath. He waited, gave her time.

  “No. I am what I am. And I have a job to do.”

  But the ghoul didn’t move.

  Keelin took a step forward. “He ordered us to do things. They weren’t jobs, but commands. But now he’s gone. There’s nobody to tell you what to do.”

  Dia glanced at Keelin, disgust on her face. <‍Maybe not. But he killed our sister. He should pay for that.‍> The ghoul’s arms rose, just a fraction. Her mouth opened, baring her teeth. She leaned in, closer to Brice.

  He lifted his own hand, the one in which he held the bloody screwdriver. Then he turned, slowly and deliberately. Deva stared at him, eyes wide.

  “Sorry I haven’t cleaned it.” He held the screwdriver out to her, and she took it, her hand grasping the metal shaft, one finger stretched out. It was warm where it touched his thumb, and she nodded.

  Brice turned back to the ghoul‌—‌to Dia‌—‌and raised his empty hand, palm out. “Do what you feel is right.” He pulled in a deep breath, and his body shuddered.

  He fought the urge to close his eyes.

  “I remember,” came a new voice, and one of the ghouls behind Dia stepped forwards. The words came through the air, not internal, and Brice knew that was important‌—‌she was speaking to everyone, not only the other ghouls. “You call me Pen, but I was once Brianne. I remember laughing as I ran. I can’t recall why I was running, but I know I was happy.”

  Then another ghoul stepped forward and spoke. “I remember someone calling me Mal. Don’t know if that’s a pet name, but it feels‌…‌right.”

  “Because it is.” This was Keelin again. “When Kaiahive turned us into NeoGens, they gave us new names. But they are only labels. We still have our old selves, deep down. Even you, Dia. Or whatever your real name is.”

  Dia moved her head, left and then right, first to the other ghouls behind, and then to Keelin and Ryann.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  “Tell us.”

  Dia closed her eyes and swallowed. She took a deep breath. “I remember.”

  Nobody moved. The ghouls watched from behind, Keelin and Ryann stood on the Hermes’ ramp. Deva held the screwdriver loosely in her hand, and Piran stood to one side of her. All eyes were on the ghoul.

  “I remember pain.” Dia’s voice was quiet, but it grew stronger as she talked. “I remember injections, and the world shifting for a while. I remember euphoria.” He eyes opened. “But only for a while. Then it was back to the agony of existence.” As if on cue, a cloud rolled across the sun. “I stole. I sold myself. I killed. And I let others use me. All I lived for were those few moments of narcotic bliss.” She turned to Brice, took a step forward, and her lip bent into a snarl. “I was less than nothing. But now‌—‌now, I’m strong. Now, I’m in control. And I can do whatever I want.”

  Dia crouched. The muscles in her arms tightened, ready to attack.

  “Giving in to urges isn’t being in control,” Keelin said. “Being in control means doing what is right, regardless of the consequences. Like Deva, standing up to you. Like Brice, putting his weapon down and offering you peace. Find that control, Dia. Do the right thing.”

  Dia’s hands flexed, her fingers moving from fists to outstretched daggers. Her arms trembled. Her eyes darted from Brice to Keelin and back again.

  “You don’t have to follow Murdoch’s orders anymore,” Keelin continued. “You don’t have to do what Kaiahive says. They turned us into NeoGens, and they designed us to be their tools. But we can think for ourselves. We can push through the doubts and‌…‌and the headaches. We can be who we are‌—‌who we want to be.”

  Keelin turned her head as she talked, her words for the other ghouls just as much as for Dia. And as Brice listened, he knew Keelin was still working through all these issues herself.

  “This is a new beginning, for all of us. And I include everyone in that. Ryann, Eljin, Brice and Deva,” and she nodded to each of them as she spoke their names. “What happens now is up to us. There’s nobody to tell us what to do.”

  Dia’s hands balled into fists. The greyness paled on her knuckles. Her eyes closed, and she bowed her head.

  Somewhere, a bird called. The tree-tops rustled in the breeze, and the air was soothing as it flowed over Brice’s forehead. He wanted to close his eyes, but he forced them to remain open. Even though his vision was blurring, he needed to see this through.

  Dia’s head bobbed, twice. Her hands relaxed, and she looked up.

  “We’re free,” she said.

  It was like a valve being released. Everyone breathed out, and through the haze Brice saw shoulders relax and mouths turn into smiles.

  At the same time, his limbs grew heavy‌—‌not just the broken arm, but all of them.

  As the cloud moved from the sun, and the beautiful rays bathed his face, Brice closed his eyes to stop the world spinning.

  A grey shape rushed at him as he fell, but he wasn’t worried. And before he hit the ground, he felt the strong arms of Keelin protecting him.

  The ghoul called Keelin took Brice into the Hermes. Deva wanted to help, but it was hard to move. Besides, she still held her bloody screwdriver.

  Piran offered to clean it for her, but she shook her head. It was too precious for that. Instead, she found a cloth in one pocket, wrapped the gory metal in that, and placed everything in another pocket.

  Keelin emerged from the Hermes‌—‌and although it felt strange calling one of these ghouls by a name, this one was, she knew, a friend. She told them that Ryann was seeing to Brice’s wounds. Dia stepped forward, said she needed a moment of contemplation, and strode into the Hermes too. Keelin rested a hand on her shoulder as she passed, and Dia patted that hand. Then Keelin said what needed to be done.

  Everyone obeyed. Not because it was an order, but simply because things needed to be done, and someone needed to be in charge.

  There were tools on the Hermes; picks and shovels. Deva and Piran helped, but the ghouls did most of the digging, and soon they had five graves‌—‌two large, three smaller.

  There was some discussion about the third human-sized grave, but Ryann was adamant‌—‌whatever Siren’s faults, she no longer had a chance to make amends, and her body deserved to be treated with respect.

  When they placed Eljin’s body in his grave, Piran’s cheeks were damp.
Deva placed a hand on his arm. He gave her a smile, the slightest of nods, and bit his lower lip.

  Then he bent down, moving Eljin’s arms, positioning him so that it looked like he was sleeping.

  “So long, mate,” he said. “And thanks for everything.”

  Piran tipped the first shovel of earth into the grave, and Deva tipped the next. The ghouls stood back, letting them fill in half the soil, before finishing the job in silence.

  When they turned to Soldier, Piran looked at Deva, as did the ghouls. She crouched down, and placed a hand on the woman’s chest. The blood was only slightly tacky now, and there was enough of a sensation of warmth that Deva could almost believe Soldier was merely resting.

  “I never got to know the real you,” she said. “But you were one of the good people. You never treated me like a kid. You did what you had to. And at the end, you saved Piran. You helped save us. Thank you.” It was the best Deva could manage.

  When she dropped the first shovel of soil onto Soldier’s body, a tear rolled from the corner of her eye.

  Nobody spoke when they buried Siren. They covered her corpse as quickly as they could.

  Dia and the person called Ryann appeared from the Hermes. Ryann’s clothes were smeared with blood, but she gave Deva a nod and a smile. Deva understood‌—‌Brice was going to be okay.

  Then they buried the two dead ghouls. No words were spoken, although Deva was sure the ghouls were sussing. Maybe Ryann was too, because a couple of the ghouls turned to her and nodded.

  Afterwards, they all stood in a circle, a few steps from the graves. Deva was between Piran and a ghoul. She didn’t know this one’s name, and it felt like the wrong moment to ask. It wasn’t important anyway. Names were only labels.

  “What now?” Dia asked. Everyone turned to Keelin.

  Keelin glanced across to the craft. “Your choice,” she said. “But I doubt if any of us want to hang around here.”

  “Two craft,” Dia said‌—‌the Proteus Deva and the others had been in would need too much work to make it flight-worthy. “We want to stay together, or split?”