by Joshua James
Ben shook his head. “What are you talking about?”
“Who the shit is Agent Moreno?” Ace asked.
“You must be Ace,” Engano said. “That intellect really gives you away.” She scanned the rest of them. “And Ada. And Tomas.” She nodded as if she were reading off a dossier. Then she looked down at the broken body of Francesca. “Finally that brings us to … I don’t know the dead teenager’s name.”
The callousness of it made Ada’s blood boil. “Francesca,” she snarled, standing up, ready to punch Engano in her face. “Her name is Francesca. Not that it’s any of your damn business.”
“Ah, yes. Sorry. That’s a tough way to go.”
“Moreno’s gone, too,” LeFay said. “If not dead, then with the cultists, which I think we both know is worse.”
Ben stepped forward, and Ada had the impression he did it to put himself between her and Engano. She felt the anger like needles in her shoulders, and had to give Ben some credit. He was probably right to keep her away from the smug bitch.
“What did you mean, the Atlas is turning this planet and city to ash?” Ben asked.
“Oh, you didn’t hear the news? Your dear old dad’s flagship is out there right now giving us a pounding to remember, along with the other two ships in that class that we didn’t even know existed. And thanks for that, by the way. Because I wasn’t already feeling inadequate enough as an intelligence director.” Engano shook her head. “First the cult, then the UEF. It’s a hell of a one-two punch, but what I don’t get is why. And where do those, whatever those things are, fit in?”
“There’s only one Atlas, and it was destroyed,” Ben said. “We all saw it.”
“I was on it when it was destroyed,” Ada said quietly. “So if you think the Atlas is attacking this rock, you’re more delusional than you look, lady.”
Engano gave Ada a once-over. “Moreno had a soft spot for you, but I’m starting to wonder why.”
Ada felt a fresh wave of rage. Somehow this woman had managed to elevate herself to somewhere just below the aliens on her shit list in record time.
“Cut the bullshit, Heather,” LeFay said. “We need a safe place to go. Do you know anywhere?”
Engano’s cold eyes turned to LeFay, but they had little effect on her. “I do, as a matter of fact. Would you all like to join me? Normally I don’t take in strays, but in honor of Agent Moreno, I’ll make an exception.”
“Who the hell is Agent Moreno?” Ace roared.
“Morgan, you idiot,” Engano said. “The one you called Morgan was a double agent. She had been for her entire life on Earth. Her name was Agent Clarissa Moreno.”
Ace stared at her, slack-jawed. “What?”
Engano sighed. “Do I really have to repeat it?”
“Bullshit,” Ace said at last. He looked at Ben. “Can you believe this crazy lady?”
Ben shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I wanted to tell you when the time was right.” He stared daggers at Engano. “But I guess that time never came.”
“No way. For real?” Tomas said. “She was with the AIC?”
“No,” Ace said. “No, no, no, no. This is bullshit. It can’t be.”
“Are we really going to have to sit here and wait until this sinks in for the genius here?” Engano asked.
“It’s kind of a bombshell,” Ada said. “Maybe you can lighten up.”
LeFay snorted. “That’ll be the day.”
“She’s dead anyway, right? So this is academic.”
“Morgan isn’t dead,” Ben said matter-of-factly. “Or Clarissa. Whatever. She’s not dead.” He almost believed it himself.
“Technically true, the last time we saw her,” LeFay acknowledged.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Engano said. She shook her head. “I’m not sure what does, anymore.”
“Well, that’s a hell of a pep talk, boss,” LeFay said. “But maybe you could, you know, lead the way?”
Engano shook her head at LeFay. “Fine. Follow me, then. If the old maps are right, a few turns should take us somewhere relatively safe. But nowhere is really safe right now.”
“Why should we follow you?” asked Ben.
Engano looked at Ben like he’d lost his mind. “What choice do you have?” She waited a moment for him to say something, then turned to LeFay. “Are these people all this stupid?”
“The one that’s already figured out you’re a bitch isn’t,” said LeFay, nodding at Ada.
Engano chuckled. “Figures.” She looked at Tomas. “What about you? Nothing to say?”
“I—”
“Gah,” Engano said, cutting him off and starting to walk down the sewer, without waiting to see if anyone was following her.
“We’re seriously going to trust her?” Ben asked LeFay.
“We can’t trust her,” LeFay said. “Believe me. The lady is the queen of spooks. But we should follow her.”
“Why?”
“Because she wants to save her own ass,” Ada said, coming up behind Ben. “And that’s good enough. For now.”
LeFay picked up Ben’s rifle and handed it to him. “If it makes you feel better, you can still lead.”
“Is it me, or have you gotten even more condescending since we first met?” Ben asked as he took the rifle.
“I think you’ve gotten a tiny bit smarter since we first met,” LeFay said. “So that’s something.”
“Do you have a sense of where she’s leading us?” Ben asked as they started after Engano.
“If I had to guess,” LeFay replied, “I’d say hell.”
Nine
Lee Saito woke up from what felt like a very long dream. He found himself in what looked like a barber’s chair, but he knew damn well he wasn’t in any barber shop, especially when he took a look at his surroundings.
Saito was in a large room with undulating walls that seemed to alternate between opaque and transparent. When he could see through them, he could see outside what he knew was the Shapeless’ ship.
How long had he been out? And where was the Pale Man?
“Oh good, honey, you’re up.”
Saito knew it was his wife Beverly’s voice. For a second, as he looked over and saw the spitting image of his wife walking over to him, Saito forgot that she was dead. He forgot that the thing walking up to him wasn’t his wife; she was a creature. But only for a moment.
“Where is he?” asked Saito as he sat up in the barber’s chair.
“Where’s who, darling? It’s only me and you here.” Beverly leaned on the chair and ran her fingers through Saito’s hair.
“Him!” Saito spat. “Your leader.” He pushed Beverly’s hand away and got up out of the chair.
“He’s not your concern right now, my love. He got what he needed from you. Well, most of it. Enough to move forward.” Beverly stood by the chair, looking innocent.
He took what he needed. Now I remember.
The events of the past few hours came rushing back to Saito. He recalled traveling through his memories alongside the Pale Man. Among those memories, really the last one, he’d given the aliens a tour of the UEF Atlas.
“Move forward with what?” Saito asked, feeling dread creeping through his mind.
“Go take a look. Take a look at the great works you’re helping us with, Lee, my love.” Beverly smiled as she pointed towards one of the room’s constantly-moving walls. It opened up to form a massive viewing window.
Saito stumbled over to the wall. It looked as if he was about to keep walking out into the vacuum of space itself before his hands stopped him, hitting the window. When he looked out, he couldn’t believe what he saw.
There, in the very close distance, was the light blue glow of a planetary shield. It only took him a moment to work out what planet this was. They were over the AIC capital of Vassar-1.
“What are we doing here?” asked Saito.
He understood that the Pale Man didn’t care about most of his memories. What he wanted was informatio
n on the Atlas. The aliens wanted to copy it, become it and its crew, just like the creature masqueraded as himself.
But what he couldn’t understand was why. What was the aliens’ endgame, and what could it possibly have to do with Vassar-1?
“You need to slow this ship down,” he said. Even with his mind racing, he was a ship’s captain first and foremost. They were on a collision course with a line of ships waiting outside the planet’s entrance. There were civilian ships, freighters and long haulers. None of them were military. “Slow it down! You’re going to run into those ships!”
“Please calm down, Lee,” urged Beverly as she walked over to him.
“Calm down? You’re about to murder innocent people!”
Beverly wrapped her arms around Saito’s waist from behind. Her grip was tight, belying her size. He couldn’t pull away if he tried. “We’re not murdering anyone.”
The Shapeless flagship rammed into the line of ships. The civilian craft were crushed in seconds, overwhelmed by the giant alien ship. Their contents, cargo and human alike, gushed into the vacuum of space. Saito felt his knees weaken at the carnage.
“Think of it as freeing them. Freeing them from the vessels of rotting meat and bone that are their prisons. We’re sending them to someplace much more peaceful, a place of silent happiness.”
“No! I can’t just stand here and watch as you monsters kill who knows how many people!”
Saito was about to leave the window and go to try and fight, in any way he could, even if his efforts were futile. He’d have to start by breaking free of Beverly’s grip, but then he realized it wasn’t her holding him in place. Something else was stopping him from moving, something cold.
Saito was horrified when he looked down and saw that the black pulsing substance that was plugged into the torso wounds he’d suffered on the Atlas had changed. Tendrils protruded from those wounds and anchored his whole body to the floor. It felt so foreign and cold, like his intestines were dipped in ice cubes.
“Just…watch, baby. Watch and you’ll see. You’ll see the awakening of thousands, no, millions. And you’ll witness the beauty of liberation.” Beverly squeezed harder. She nestled her chin on Saito’s shoulder as he kept struggling to free himself.
“Liberation? This is…” Saito watched on, appalled, as the Shapeless ship he was in just kept moving forward, plowing through innocents like a hot knife through butter. It was clear they were heading straight towards Vassar-1, with no intention of stopping.
“Freedom,” answered Beverly.
Ten
What have they done to me? What did they do to me?
Saito clawed at the tendrils coming out of his own body. But they couldn’t be dislodged; they couldn’t be clawed off. Each little piece he managed to pry off got replaced within seconds. He was stuck. He was stuck, and was forced to be witness to genocide.
When the Shapeless flagship reached the planetary shields, leaving wreckage and death in its wake, the room Saito was anchored in changed. He recognized its new shape. He was in the command deck of the UEF Atlas, except he wasn’t.
Part of Saito was impressed by how close the Shapeless reproduction of the command deck was. It was almost perfect. And yet, his mind didn’t accept it. There were small details off, details too small for him to pinpoint, but they must be there.
The Shapeless’ recreation of the Atlas command deck also came with a fake crew. At least, that’s what Saito figured at first. But as he looked closer, he saw that these faux UEF Naval personnel were actually doing what the real versions would do. They were doing their jobs.
“Are you ready, Mr. Saito?”
Saito felt a chill run down his spine. Sitting in the commander’s chair was the Pale Man.
Instinct made Saito lunge forward to try and attack him, but the tendrils pulled him back. Out of frustration and anger, he yelled out, exhausting the extensive library of expletives he’d accumulated over his lifetime.
“Please try and relax, my friend,” the Pale Man said.
Then he began to transform in front of Saito. It was a grotesque sight: eyes changing, organs popping out and into place; bones, teeth, everything swirled around in a meaty blob until the final form took its place. When he finished, Saito found himself staring at a perfect replica of himself in the Atlas’ command chair. “This should be quite a show,” his doppelganger said.
Saito’s tendrils forced him up to the video screens that served as the faux Atlas command deck’s viewing window. Suspended high above the floor, he was at the direct eye level of the scene he absolutely didn’t want to watch.
“Closing your eyes won’t make it any easier. It won’t make any of this go away,” said the fake Captain Saito.
The real Saito didn’t want to listen. He closed his eyes as he heard the familiar sound of UEF dreadnought cannons going to work on the planetary shields. Specifically, they aimed at the station that controlled the door that served as the only entrance and exit for the planet.
Saito opened his eyes when he didn’t hear, but felt, that the station manning the door and Vassar-1’s planetary shield was gone. All it was was a ball of flames, dancing in zero gravity. It was almost beautiful until he saw the floating bodies, already frozen solid by the unforgiving cold of space.
"There’s no way to make it go away, Mr. Saito. This is happening whether you want it to or not, and part of you doesn’t want it to, for you aren’t them anymore. Not fully. You’re something more. You are what we’ll all be. Sooner, rather than later.” The false Saito sat back in his chair.
Both Saito and the fake version of him sat and watched as the planetary shields buckled under the mighty forward motion of the alien Atlas as her alien fighters destroyed the entrance station.
“Forward, get us down to that planet as quickly as possible,” ordered fake Saito. There was a smug smile on his face, as if he’d really accomplished something. It made the real Saito sick.
“Captain, we have inco, income, incoming. We have incoming ships, sir,” one of the Shapeless, pretending to be a pilot, informed the false commander.
“Don’t panic, pilot. We’re prepared for this. Arm the cannons and deploy our fighters as soon as we exit the atmosphere. Let’s give these friends a fight they will forget.” The false Saito hadn’t quite fully mastered sayings in Earth standard.
The Shapeless flagship entered the atmosphere. At first, Saito could’ve sworn he heard the whole vessel scream out in pain. It was from the friction of the entry. All of the surfaces in the interior of the command deck shifted a bit, convulsed, before returning to normal.
It’s alive? This whole ship is alive?
Saito put aside his horror for one moment to digest what he’d just learned. That information might’ve been useful earlier, especially the part where it reacted so poorly to extreme temperatures, just like the Shapeless themselves.
Once out of the atmosphere, all Saito could see were clouds right out to the curve of the small world, but the clouds weren’t all white. Nor were they grey storm clouds. Parts of them were black. Countless fires were burning in the city below. Whatever was happening down there, it seemed to be working in favor of the Pale Man.
AIC fighter ships came barreling out of the clouds and immediately opened fire on the Shapeless. They focused their fire on the fake Atlas, which was a mistake, because it was armed with everything the real original had. That included a litany of anti-fighter defenses.
“What’s your recommendation here, Mr. Saito? What would you do in this situation?” asked false Saito in a mocking tone.
Saito didn’t answer. He just watched and hoped for what he knew was impossible. He hoped that one of those fighters would hit the fake Atlas just right to disable it or, even better, destroy it, taking him, the Pale Man, and his fake wife with it.
“No answers? You don’t want to help, huh? I get that. Thing is, you don’t have a choice, friend.”
Suddenly Saito felt a sharp pain in his torso where the anchoring
tentacles originated. They started to pulse. The sensation felt like someone was pulling teeth, but instead of his teeth, it was his brain.
“Ah, of course. Simple enough,” the false Saito said. “Brute force really is the way of your people, isn’t it?”
Like a gigantic metal porcupine with cannons instead of spikes, the fake Atlas unloaded on the AIC fighters. For the first time, Saito seemed to realize there was fire coming from more than just the ship he was on.
As if reading his mind, his doppelganger turned to him and smiled. “Oh yes, we’ve added a little wrinkle, just to keep things interesting. But don’t worry; this is still the Atlas that matters.”
Saito suddenly had a vision of the metal ball in space around the sanctuary station, absorbing and reabsorbing ships into its mass. If those other two ships were identical in size to the Atlas, then if they were somehow absorbed back into the ship that Saito was on right now, their mass would make a single Atlas of almost unimaginable scale.
The small, lightly-shielded ships stood little chance. One by one the vessels met their ends in balls of fire and shrapnel, or fell back down towards the city like burning rain. The Shapeless ships continued to descend.
It became clear to Saito exactly how much the Shapeless had planned this all out when the fake Atlas made it through the clouds and he got a clear view of Vassar-1 below. Even from this height, he could see the city was in chaos. He looked around at all the fires and smoke, rising up from so many sights he couldn’t begin to count. Like on Earth, they must have used terrorist attacks to sow the chaos needed to cover their own approach.
“Yes, our friends helped us. You call them a cult. We call them believers.”
