The Gate

by Finn Gray

  They crept forward, knives held at the ready. Cassidy focused on her target—a figure of indeterminate gender, who stood holding a rifle and gazing into the chamber. In fact, neither guard was watching the passageway. Whatever was happening in the chamber had their full attention.

  Cassidy could feel her heart hammering, hear the rush of blood in her ears. Surely the target could hear it too.

  Closer.

  Closer.

  Another step.

  Now!

  She leapt forward

  The guard spun around just as Cassidy attacked. Cassidy had a moment to register a feminine face with full lips and a single big, brown eye. A cyclops! Then the guard dodged to the side. Cassidy’s knife missed by inches. The guard rapped Cassidy across the knuckles with the haft of her spear, knocking the knife free of Cassidy’s grasp. Damn! The woman was fast.

  Cassidy lowered her head and charged her target. Her arms closed around the woman’s thighs and she lifted the one-eyed guard off the ground and dumped her flat on her back on the stone floor. The spear now useless, the guard struggled to break free. She had been quick with the spear but did not seem to have any clue how to grapple. In a matter of seconds, Cassidy was on the woman’s back, legs locked around her adversary’s midsection, arm around her neck, choking the life out of her. The guard thrashed about, raked her nails across the tanned flesh of Cassidy’s forearm, tried to claw her eyes, but to no avail. Cassidy held on tight.

  “Would you just go to sleep already?” Cassidy hissed.

  “Go... to the… hells,” the guard wheezed. Her accent was strange—“go” sounded like “goo,” and “hells” sounded like “hails.”

  “I don’t want to kill you,” Cassidy grunted. The guard took one last swipe over her shoulder, trying to gouge Cassidy’s eye. Finally, she went limp.

  Weary and relieved, Cassidy released her grip and let the unconscious woman fall to the cold, hard floor. She took a moment to catch her breath, then looked up to see Trent staring down at her, a mocking smile on her face.

  “What are you grinning at?” Cassidy said.

  “You either need to maintain that chokehold for another three minutes, or finish her off with your knife. Otherwise, she’ll wake up very soon. Here.”

  “Can’t we tie her up? Gag her?”

  “There’s no time for that. If you’re going to be a soldier, you have to be ready to kill. Here.” Trent reversed her own knife, still bloody from the kill, and handed it to Cassidy.

  Cassidy rose to one knee and gripped the knife in a shaking hand. It’s just a target. She’s stopping me from getting to Rory.

  The guard’s single eye flitted open. She was dazed, but her gaze fell on the knife in Cassidy’s hand and she understood immediately. Her single eye went wide and she mouthed the word “no.” Then Cassidy struck. Warm blood spurted onto her hand as she sliced through the jugular. The guard gaped, pressed her hands to her throat. Her lips moved, but she managed only a gurgle before her eye closed.

  Cassidy averted her eyes, unable to watch her final death throes. She wiped Trent’s knife on the fallen guard’s leg, returned the knife to her sergeant, and then retrieved her own fallen blade. Next, they recovered their rifles and moved to the chamber entrance.

  Scattered torches cast flickering light on the space below them. A walkway wound through a forest of statues, all depicting creatures from mythology, down to a pool at the center of the cavern. The water glowed a dull green. From this angle, she could just make out the figures of Rory and his companion chained to a pillar on a tiny island in the middle of the pool. The two were struggling to break free, but they were very much alive!

  “Look at him, so helpless,” Cassidy said. “I think we should let him struggle for a few minutes. He’s been getting cocky lately.”

  The ghost of a grin played at the corner of Trent’s mouth. She was about to speak when the sound of drumbeats filled the air and the chamber reverberated with the guttural sounds of chanting.

  “Looks like the enemy has other plans.”

  Into the chamber marched a dozen of the most beautiful people Cassidy had ever seen. They were tall, well-muscled, with broad shoulders, taut stomachs, and lithe legs. It was easy to tell because they were all completely nude. Their skin colors ranged from pale white to dark brown. They all wore their hair long, and their faces were neither masculine nor feminine. Most noticeably, all had ample breasts and large penises.

  “I did not need to see that,” Cassidy whispered.

  “I don’t mind. Look at that one over there.” Trent indicated an indigo skinned Arcallian who danced around, his erect member drawing circle in the air.

  “You could conduct an orchestra with that thing,” Cassidy whispered.

  Trent actually snickered, then covered her mouth. “That is the first funny thing you’ve ever said.”

  Cassidy smirked. “Screw you, sir.”

  Behind the leaders came a parade of increasingly bizarre looking people. All were armed, though none with anything more menacing than a spear.

  “How are we going to get to Rory before they kill him and that other guy?” Cassidy asked.

  “Oh, from the way their privates are standing at attention, I don’t think they have any intention of killing those two. I think this is some sort of weird mating thing.”

  “Mating?” Cassidy gaped. “We can’t let that happen.”

  Trent nodded. “If I’m honest, I think it does a man good to occasionally have some idea of how vulnerable a woman feels most of her life.” She glanced over at Cassidy. “I don’t mean us, of course. We can handle our own shit. I mean regular women.” Cassidy nodded and tried not to beam at the compliment Trent had just paid her. “But rapists deserve to die,” Trent added flatly.

  “What’s our move?”

  Trent narrowed her eyes. “We’re better armed than they are, and we have the element of surprise. But, there are a lot more of them than there are of us. We’ll have to do this carefully. Follow my lead and don’t shoot until I say so.”

  Cassidy nodded and followed Trent into the chamber.

  Chapter 12

  Battlecruiser Dragonfly

  Another day, another very long meeting of the newly formed interim senate. They were getting good work done, even Val, but Lina was exhausted. Why had she ever wanted to be empress? Then again, what else was she going to do with all her free time?

  “Excuse me, your Highness,” a voice said.

  She looked up, startled. It was Lloris. “Yes?”

  Lloris scratched his beard. “I have been thinking, since we are reevaluating all aspects of our government, wouldn’t it make sense to do the same for the role of the imperial family?”

  “There is no imperial family any longer. There is only myself and Senator Navarre.” Lina tried to keep her voice steady. The subject was a delicate one, the grief from the loss of her family still fresh.

  “I understand, but some day you will marry, of course,” Lloris said.

  “Senator Lloris, I seriously doubt I will ever have time to marry. To answer your question, I am not opposed to having that conversation, but it’s a subject that I think would be more appropriate for the permanent senate to address.”

  “I mean no offense, but if we are setting up a new government, why not consider wholesale changes? After all, one could argue that the Memnon uprising was fueled by discontent between the classes.”

  Lina knew that it was important to remain calm, to not betray any motions. The truth was, she was not entirely unsympathetic to his arguments. That did not, however, mean that she trusted his motivations, especially with his obvious connections to Val.

  “This body being a temporary senate, no members of which were elected by the people, I think it would be prudent to make as few changes as possible to the existing structure. The more changes we try to make the more difficult it will be to convince the fleet that we are not seizing power. Major changes should come from the consent of the governed.”


  Lloris frowned, thinking hard. “Could we not prepare a set of recommendations for the future senate? Get the ball rolling, so to speak.”

  “Senator Lloris, you may make any recommendation you like. What concerns me right now are the many immediate, pressing issues we need to address. And on that note, how is your project coming?”

  Lloris had been placed in charge of fuel distribution. A pair of refinery ships had survived the Memnon attack, and were now tasked with meeting the demands of the entire fleet. And that was merely the practical side of the matter. The luxury ships were demanding special treatment, as were a few others for various reasons.

  “Still a work in progress,” Lloris said. “It’s difficult to estimate each ship’s needs until we have finished distributing the population among the fleet.”

  “In that case, you might wish to offer aid to Senator Matsui. See if you can help her speed things up.”

  Lloris blanched, his eyes went wide. It seemed that the very thought of Matsui was enough to set him back on his heels. Lina could not blame him. The old veteran was ferocious. “I’d love to discuss that further but I’m afraid I must go. Thank you for your time, Highness.” They shook hands and Lloris saw himself out.

  “Tosser,” Lina whispered when the man was out of earshot. She returned to her work, trying to set aside her annoyance, and the creeping sadness that mention of her family always seemed to bring.

  A few moments later another figure appeared in the doorway. She glanced up and saw a man in the uniform of an imperial marine. She frowned. This was not the same soldier who had escorted her to the briefing and had been assigned to stand guard outside.

  It happened in an instant, but to Lina the seconds seemed to stretch into eternity. She saw a glint of blue in the man’s right eye — bright, electric blue. His hand went to his hip.

  Lina did the only thing she could. She dove beneath the heavy conference table an instant before shots rang out. A thunderous boom filled the small space, rang in her ears. She heard the ping and zip of slugs deflected through the small space.

  Shouts came from the corridor. Was help on the way?

  “There you are!”

  She looked up to see the Memnon down on his knees, pointing his pistol in her direction. She rolled to the side and he fired again. Something clipped the heel of her shoe.

  Gods, he almost got me.

  She racked her brain, trying to remember everything she knew about the layout of the room. Were there any other exits? Anything she can use for a weapon? Anywhere she could hide? No, no, and no. She was cornered.

  The Memnon fired again. The bullet whistled past her ear. It was only a matter of time before he got her. Lacking any better ideas, she clambered out, jumped onto the table, and made a run along its length, headed for the door.

  From underneath the table she heard the Memnon let out a muffled curse. He began firing up through the bottom of the table. Bullets shredded the cheap wood, fragments sprayed all over her, but Lina kept running. How long was this table, anyway? It felt like a kilometer or more as she sprinted along its surface.

  Another shot, and this time she felt a sharp pain in her thigh. She stumbled, took two more steps, and then jumped. She flew through the doorway just as the Memnon assassin clambered out from under the table and took one last shot.

  Lina hit the deck hard, rolled, and came up facing a line of pilots and Marines dashing toward her. She held her breath, praying they were on her side.

  They were.

  They dashed past her as she exited the briefing room, rifles raised, shouting for the Memnon to drop his weapon. The assassin did not want to go down without a fight, but unfortunately for him, he had emptied his magazine in his attempt on Lina’s life. Seconds later, they hauled him down the corridor right past her. He turned and winked his impossibly blue eye.

  A pilot, a tall, handsome man with wavy black hair and blue eyes reached down and offered his hand. She accepted it and let him haul her to her feet.

  “Thank you. You were just in time.”

  The pilot looked at her injured hip and frowned. “Not quite. You’re bleeding. Doesn’t look too bad but I’m not a doc. I think we should get you to sick bay just to be safe. I can show you the way.”

  “Again, thank you. What’s your name?”

  “I’m Adam Talia. But everyone calls me Recess.”

  Lina hesitated. She knew this man’s name, knew his family. They all hated her family.

  Recess seemed to understand. His expression softened.

  “I don’t suppose it would help if I were to promise you I’m not a Memnon?” He forced a laugh, then grew serious. “Look, I understand how you must feel given the circumstances, but I’ve never cared about politics. That’s one of the reasons I enlisted in the fleet. I wanted to go my own way.” He looked away, shrugged, and his eyes grew cloudy. “I don’t suppose either of us has enough family left for there to be any sort of rivalry anymore.”

  “You’re right,” Lina said. “I would be grateful for your help.” She took his arm permitted him to escort her to sick bay.

  Commander Graves was waiting for her there. “Your Imperial Majesty, I am so sorry this happened. The guard I assigned to you was murdered.”

  Lina could not believe it. I am so sorry. I feel responsible.”

  Graves shook his head. “Blame the Memnons.” He watched in silence as the doctor tended to her injured leg. Lina was relieved to learn that it was just a graze.

  “I suppose I should be grateful it wasn’t much worse,” she said.

  Graves nodded. “Tell me what happened.”

  As Lina described the attempted assassination, his eyebrows gradually climbed.

  “You did well. Most people would have frozen in that situation. Even trained soldiers. That was very brave of you.”

  Lina laughed. “Brave? Hardly. I’m stubborn and don’t feel like being dead yet. I’ve got too much to do.”

  Graves laughed. “Agreed. But we need to find a way to keep you safe while you do it. I’m going to assign you a full-time personal security guard in addition to your current detail. Someone I know well and trust implicitly.”

  A lump formed in Lina’s throat. She had managed not to think about Carlos, her guard who had been murdered by the Memnons. The one positive of the battle they’d just fought with the Memnons was it had commanded her full attention. There had been no time to think about those she had lost. Now it was all coming back to her.

  “That’s fine,” she said quickly. “Who do you have in mind?”

  Graves smiled. “You already know her. But I’ll warn you, she’s not going to be happy about it.”

  Chapter 13

  Arcallia, Soria

  Rory watched the line of Arcallians coming closer. The drums seemed to be pounding inside his head now. This could not be happening. He and Oates heaved again and again at their chains which held them bound to a stone pillar.

  “Come on, you son of a bitch. Fall!”

  They heaved again and he thought he felt the pillar shift.

  “Did you feel that?” Oates said.

  “Again.” The Arcallians had almost reached the water. Rory and Oates threw their weight forward and now the column wobbled. “It’s working!” They did it again and it began to teeter.

  “Pull!” Rory shouted.

  They heaved and slowly the pillar began to fall. They dodged to the side as it crashed to the ground. They stared at the fallen stone cylinder, still intact, and then looked at one another.

  “I thought it would shatter,” Rory said. “Or at least break.”

  “And now,” Oates said, glancing at the approaching captors, “we are well and truly fucked.”

  Their captors halted at the edge of the water where a narrow walkway led across the water and over to the tiny island on which he and Oates were chained. The people in the lead were obviously the last remaining descendants of the elite leaders of Arcallia. They were of both sexes, and their physical attributes
near perfect. Still, that didn’t make the prospect of what was about to happen any more appealing.

  “That one in front,” Oates said as the leader stepped onto the walkway, “seems particularly excited to make our acquaintance.”

  Rory watched in horror as the leader stepped out onto the walkway. He could not believe this was about to happen. The cold air and the horrifying sight sent shivers down his spine. He caught a whiff of a sickly sweet perfume, heard the Arcallians chanting softly. He did not see how he and Oates could fight them. He gave another futile tug at his bonds, felt the cold iron shackles bite into his wrists.

  “No, no, no…” he whispered.

  And then a sharp crack rang out. The leader of the Arcallians froze. He looked down at the hole in his chest that was beginning to ooze blood. He raised his head, eyes wide, and looked around in disbelief, lips moving. And then he slowly toppled over and sank beneath the surface of the water, trailing a cloud of dark blood in the green water.

  At first no one seemed to realize what was happening. They froze for the span of three heartbeats. By then, five more of the beautiful people lay dead.

  The others at the head of the group finally seemed to realize what was going on. They turned, shouted commands, and forced their way into the center of their crowd of followers, seeking to use their underlings as meat shields. One Arcallian, tall with long black hair done in many braids, raised a spear and shouted orders. The others began looking around in confusion, but none could determine where the shots were coming from. Another burst of rifle fire, and the would-be leader went down.

  Rory could tell that the gunshots were coming from somewhere behind himself and Oates and were coming closer. He pictured the cavern and remembered the many statues that filled the chamber. He imagined the unseen attackers were using the statues for cover. That was what he would do.