World Killer: A Sci-Fi Action Adventure Novel

by Barry J. Hutchison

  Daryl made a pushing motion, and Hath went staggering toward the fiery heat of the thermal core. With a wave of his hand, Daryl tore the World Killer’s mask off, exposing the face beneath.

  “Tell me how we stop it, or say your goodbyes,” Daryl warned. “Last chance.”

  Hath’s alien features twisted as he let out a snort. “You won’t kill me, Daryl Elliot,” he said. “I know you, remember? I’ve watched you your whole life. I know you better than you know yourself. You’re soft, boy. You’re weak. You can’t—”

  Four chunks of rock tore free from the pocket of Daryl’s meat suit, rocketed through the air, then hammered into Hath’s forehead, one after the other. Each impact drove him back a half-step.

  As the final stone hit, Hath lost his footing. The fiery column of the thermal core seemed to reach out to embrace him, pulling him down into its arms. He screamed as he was swallowed by it, one arm reaching out, grasping for something—anything—to hold onto.

  And then, he was gone, consumed by the core.

  The column sputtered and flared, losing its structural integrity. Grabbing Ash, Daryl hauled him back, mimicking Hath’s earlier moves as he swiped frantically at the air.

  The shielding dropped just as the core became critically unstable. It thrashed like an injured snake, spraying the shield walls with its searing heat. The walls trembled and flickered under the force of the onslaught. The floor trembled, shaking centuries-old dust from the ceiling far overhead.

  “Great,” Ash sighed. “This place is totally going to collapse on us, isn’t it?”

  Daryl was just about to suggest that they step outside when the thermal core gave a series of final spurts, thrashed once more, then bubbled into a puddle on the floor.

  Both boys held their breath, waiting to see what would happen next. When Ash finally spoke, his voice echoed around the cathedral-like room.

  “I think you broke it,” he said.

  Daryl’s eyes flicked to the countdown on the hologram. Only a scant few digits remained. They blinked red, frozen with seconds to spare.

  “We did it,” he whispered, barely able to believe it. “We actually did it. We stopped it.”

  “Alright! Go us!” crowed Ash. He held a hand up for a high-five.

  “Ah, what the hell?” laughed Daryl, slapping his hand against Ash’s.

  “So, throwing the rocks,” Ash said. “Was that you, or was it her?”

  “Wasn’t me,” said Daryl. He turned hopefully to the boy beside him. “Is it really her? Is she back?”

  A smile tugged at the corners of Ash’s mouth. “Oh, she’s back alright. And those guys of Hath’s? His Royal Guard, or whatever?”

  “What about them?”

  “Yeah, she totally killed those guys.”

  Thirty-Three

  Daryl and Ash emerged from the command chamber and onto the wide stone steps leading down to the street below. Skalgorth’s artificial sun momentarily blinded them, forcing them to shield their eyes.

  “Where is she?” asked Daryl, once they’d both adjusted to the glare.

  Ash shrugged. “What am I, her keeper? She’s around.”

  “Riley?” Daryl called. “Riley, can you hear me?”

  When no response came, Daryl turned and looked back into the doorway. “Maybe she’s in those little rock pieces.”

  “She isn’t,” said Ash, nudging Daryl with an elbow. “Look.”

  A figure stood at the bottom of the steps. It was hard to see the details of her in the glare of the sun, but the outline was unmistakable.

  “Riley!” Daryl gasped, launching himself down the steps in twos and threes. She raised an arm and waved to him as he hurried toward her. “You’re alive! How can you be…?”

  Daryl stopped a few steps up, as the silhouette fell away and he saw Riley clearly.

  She was not Riley. Not anymore. Not in the physical sense, at least.

  Her outline was the same, but her features were a clumsy arrangement of sand and pebbles, all stacked together to create a vague suggestion of her face. Her rocky arms wrapped self-consciously around her stone midriff as Daryl gawped at her in disbelief.

  “You’re… you’re…”

  “She’s rocks,” said Ash, arriving on the step beside him. “She’s a whole bunch of rocks.”

  “Can she talk?” Daryl asked. He aimed the question at Riley herself. “Can you talk?”

  Riley shook her head.

  “Oh,” said Daryl, because he wasn’t really sure of what else to add. “That’s… a shame.”

  “Meh. You ask me, she talked too much,” Ash said. “I kind of prefer her like this.”

  A pebbled pinged off his forehead.

  “Ow! Jesus! I was kidding!” Ash protested, rubbing the point of impact.

  Daryl descended the remaining steps, stopping when he was within arm’s reach of Riley. She shifted uncomfortably, as if embarrassed to be seen this way.

  “So, you shifted your consciousness into the ground? Before Hath… Before he…”

  Riley nodded. It made a low grinding sound, like two bricks being rubbed together.

  “Can you shift it back?” Daryl asked. “Into your body, I mean?”

  The brick-rubbing sound came again, as Riley shook her head.

  “But… You can come with us, right? Back to Earth? Back home?”

  Riley’s features tightened, becoming just a little more defined. Her boulder-shoulders shrugged, then—with some effort—she formed two raised thumbs from her hands.

  “Wait, you think we can get home?” asked Ash. “Are you serious?”

  Daryl nodded. “Don’t see why not. We have a spaceship. We know roughly which direction it’s in. I reckon we’ve got a pretty good shot.”

  “Well, alright!” Ash cheered. He raised a hand for another high-five, but Daryl reckoned he’d humored him enough with the previous one, so left him hanging.

  “Assholes,” Ash grumbled, lowering his arm again.

  “Someone’s coming,” Daryl whispered.

  “What? Jesus, who is it now?” Ash groaned.

  Daryl’s eyes went to the sky just as thirty or more sleek silver fighter ships snapped to a sudden halt. One moment, they weren’t there, the next they were, each craft hanging motionless in the air.

  Ash stretched his fingers and cricked his neck, limbering up. “I guess a hero’s work never ends,” he said.

  Riley placed her lumpy, uneven hands on their chests, then shook her head. She gestured to the ships, then at herself, then made the same thumbs-up gesture she’d made a few moments before.

  “You’re controlling the ships?” asked Ash.

  Riley shook her head and made the gestures again.

  “You are the ships?” Ash said. “What does that mean?”

  Sand shifted inside Riley, making a sound that was not unlike a sigh.

  “She’s saying they’re with her,” Daryl explained. He met the indents where Riley’s eyes should have been. “Right?”

  Riley nodded. There was a sound of rock scraping against rock. If Daryl really used his imagination, it might have passed for, “Right.”

  Circles of light appeared beneath each ship. A moment later, the street around them was filled with heavily armed soldiers. None of them looked happy, and the way they were pointing their weapons suggested they wouldn’t hesitate to use them.

  Daryl and Ash both raised their hands.

  “Well, Riley’s friends or not,” Ash muttered. “Something tells me we’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.”

  A lot of explaining later, Daryl, Ash, and a slightly more defined version of Riley stood beside Yufo, a legion of Skalgorth High Guardians lined up before them.

  Ash sighed theatrically, waiting for Daryl to finish saying whatever alien gobbledygook he was currently saying. Ash had been sure he was just doing a bad impersonation of the language, at first, and had fully expected the aliens to open fire on the steps outside the command chamber. But, when they had lowered th
eir guns and a group had been dispatched to check inside the chamber building, Ash had been forced to accept that Daryl actually knew what he was saying.

  Of course, with nobody in the command chamber, they couldn’t verify any of Daryl’s story. They seemed to trust Riley, though—albeit warily—and gave them enough benefit of the doubt to follow them back to the site of their battle with Hath’s guards.

  A couple of the guards were even still alive, although they were in no condition to verify anything Daryl had said. Still, the sight of them seemed to reassure the Guardians, and the voice of the leader had softened a little when he’d next spoken.

  By the time Daryl had called Yufo in to land and had her back up his story with recordings, readouts, and a lot of other data Ash hadn’t bothered to pay too much attention to, the Guardians became positively friendly.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ash watched Riley. She’d been a clumsy parody of herself half an hour earlier, but now her features were becoming smoother and more intricate, individual grains of sand forming the lines of her face. It was pretty damn incredible.

  Creepy, obviously, but incredible.

  Daryl said something else in alien babble, then the Guardians all clicked their heels together and raised their right fists high into the air.

  “What are they, space Nazis?” Ash muttered. Riley nudged him with an elbow that was literally rock-solid.

  “We can go,” Daryl said, turning to the others. “They thank us for our service.”

  Ash frowned. “Even though it was us who blew up—?”

  Daryl put a hand on Ash’s shoulder and steered him toward the open door of the ship. “Yeah, I didn’t tell them that part,” he said.

  “Probably for the best,” Ash conceded.

  “Welcome back, Ash Stone, Daryl Elliot…” Yufo chimed as the boys stepped into the ship. The voice stopped when the stone figure joined them.

  But only for a moment.

  “…Riley Harper,” Yufo concluded.

  “Good to be back,” Daryl said, smiling at the ship in general.

  “I never thought I’d say it, but I agree,” said Ash. He flopped down, exhausted, and the floor bloomed up to catch him. He smiled contentedly, nestling himself down into the folds of the freshly-grown chair, and placed his hands behind his head. “It’s good to be back.”

  A moment later, Ash started to snore.

  Daryl shook his head, then turned to Riley. She still looked like a roughly-made clay model of herself, but she was getting there. Daryl had suggested retrieving her body, but she had refused, for whatever reason. He could understand it, he thought. Kind of.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  Riley nodded, then held up her hands in panic.

  “What? What is it?” Daryl asked. “What’s wrong.”

  Riley held up her index fingers, indicating for him to wait.

  He waited.

  “What’s happening?” he asked, after a while. “What are we waiting for?”

  Outside the ship, the ground trembled. Riley held up a hand just as a small bundle of knitted material was spat through the open door of the ship. She caught it, then pulled it over her head.

  Daryl smiled. “That’s still a stupid hat,” he said.

  Riley raised two fingers again. Different ones, this time.

  “Well, that’s just rude,” Daryl told her.

  The opening in the side of Yufo sealed shut. As Daryl turned to the front, the holographic keyboard illuminated, awaiting his command. He approached it reverently, like a worshipper to an altar.

  For a while, he just stared at it, holding his breath, not daring to say a word.

  And then, finally, he turned to the others. “We all set?”

  Ash snorted awake. “Huh? What?”

  Riley gave a thumbs up and dropped into a chair that sprouted beneath her.

  “Well, OK, then,” Daryl said, facing front again. Two supports oozed up his legs, holding them in place. His fingers went to the controls. “Let’s go home.”

  And, they did.

  Further Reading

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