856 lines
45 KiB
Plaintext
856 lines
45 KiB
Plaintext
Beacons of Light
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Copyright (c) 1995, L. Shawn Aiken
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All rights reserved
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Beacons of Light
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by L. Shawn Aiken
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The ebon craft burst forth from nowhere, literally, but did not
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disturb the velvety curtain of stars draped behind it. From its
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womb sprang seven silvery children that plunged toward the bright
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orb swirling nearby.
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One hesitated briefly, rejecting the ever present tendrils of
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force. Instead, it fell forever around the planet, carefully
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watching the other six as they began to sparkle with ions.
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The ebon craft lurched and drug itself out of the gravity well,
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then vanished, returning to the nothingness which had spawned it.
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* * *
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Brenn watched the star-like sparks dance above the biomass
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reactor as if somehow they were the real stars with their proper
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motions advanced a million-fold. The simple arrangement of stone
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and wood was far from efficient, but at least it warmed half of his
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cloaked body. Regretfully, his backside was frozen in the crisp
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night air.
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Beyond the fire sat his wife, suckling their bald child while
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her deep green eyes watched him like a cat. *She is too young,*
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Brenn thought, *her skin too soft, her mind too new. Slypha does
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not deserve to be away from her family, up here, with the beasts.
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And me.*
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Her large green eyes caught his, and she smiled. Brenn sighed
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and smiled back.
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"The beasts are quiet," he said. Her smiled faded.
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"Perhaps they think the storm will miss us," she removed the
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child from her breast and snuggled him tightly. "It's late. It's
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been so long. I feel ready. Let's go to bed."
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Brenn stood up and stretched his legs. The flickering fire
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light caught the grey streaks in his beard. "Let me check on the
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boy first. I think he's asleep."
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Slypha walked to him and kissed him on the cheek, her eyes
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sparkling. "Must you call him a boy still? Phenris has gone
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through the change."
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"Men do not sleep while watching beasts." They smiled in unison,
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for they both knew Brenn had his surrendered his watch many times to
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the sandman.
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He turned and stepped into the dark of night. *I am too old,*
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he sighed to himself. *My joints creak. My hair has shifted from
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my head to inappropriate parts of my body. I am too old to be with
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her.*
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The forest gave way to clearing and the rumbling of snoring
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beasts. Brenn was sure one of the snores belonged to Phenris, but
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sound alone could not distinguish them. Then another sound came.
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An old sound. One that he had not heard in three decades, and not
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hoped to hear again. A beeping.
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He glanced at the culprit, the chronometer strapped to his
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wrist. The signal. Brenn glanced up at the heavens. Bright lights
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shone down. Foreign constellation made familiar over thirty-six
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years, girdled by two shadows. The eastern shadows were the spiky
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teeth of the Ramphast Mountains. The west was more nebulous, a thin
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line over the flat lands. The coming storm.
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Between the two a fiery streak, followed by another, and
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another. Six in all. They did not fade like falling stars, but
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stayed bright as they disappeared behind the clouds.
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Brenn slumped to the ground. Why had they taken so long? And
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why now? Wouldn't some earlier time have done? When his bones did
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not creak and his hair was still stable? Why had they not come when
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he had been ready?
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* * *
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The lightning crackled down like a witch's hand, briefly
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illuminating the humanoid figure running quietly through the
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rain-soaked streets. It's strides were long. It's leaps longer.
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But no one was awake to see. No one oohed and ahed. No one bowed
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down to the power of Akhenaton.
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He broke a sweat in the confines of the suit, away from the
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chilly air, as he bounded across the Square of Freedom to the
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presidential palace. One guard had time to widen his eyes before
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the meter long razor slaughtered the lot. But the splatter of blood
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failed to stain Akhenaton, for he crashed ten meters up into a third
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story window.
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A figure cowered in the silk sheets of the canopied bed, amidst
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the finely carved bas-reliefs on the walls and the cherubs looking
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down from the vaulted ceiling. Akhenaton opened a link to the
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satellite floating above and stepped toward the trembling figure.
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"President Cambridge of the Free World of Charadri, I bring you
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a gift from the Emperors of the Triad," his voiced boomed out of the
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metal and ceramic suit of armor. "You may broadcast a word to those
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you offended with treason."
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The figure stopped shaking and sat up. A wise-looking man, but
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confused. "You have no right . . ."
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Electric sparks bluer than sapphires shot from Akhenaton's arm,
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striking the president full force in the chest. He erupted into
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flames, squealing.
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"Just one word, dear President," Akhenaton said as he cut the
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link. Movement. His sensors detected movement. A woman by the
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door, paralyzed with fear.
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A burst of blue light reduced the president's wife to ashes.
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Noise. Beyond the door. In the hall. He jumped into it.
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A short person. A child. In bootied blue pajamas. Clutching a
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stuffed creature from beyond the Human Zone. The offspring of
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Cambridge. Akhenaton aimed and fired.
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* * *
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Brenn looked back through the veil of rain and waited for Slypha
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to catch up. She sloshed through the mud, the baby's pannier
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strapped to her back and a useless umbrella sticking up through the
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wooden frame.
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He reached his hand out to help her, but she brushed past him
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roughly.
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"Sylph!" he sucked his boots out of the mud. His son whined at
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him from her back.
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"Why?" Slyph hissed as her head spun toward him. He blinked to
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force the rain from his eyes. *She's too young to go through this,*
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he thought as he examined the way her wet hair hung to her face in
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swirls.
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"It is not a thing to talk about. Just believe that it is
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necessary," he coughed up the words.
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"What about Phenris?" she asked. "He's too young to herd the
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beasts by himself!"
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He sighed, remembering how, months ago, she had argued that her
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nephew was old enough to follow them into the hills. "He'll be
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okay. I have to get you back to the village."
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"Why?" she yelled over the thunder. "Why must you leave?"
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"Look!" he pointed to a strange metal scaffolding looming above
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the trees. "The microwave tower. We are almost there. Let's get
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you too your mother's before it get's dark!"
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He knew they would make it to the village of Psittac long before
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night fall, but he wanted to be well away from there before anything
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might happen. They continued to slosh through the mud, their boots
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slurping and sucking, and the baby randomly wailing.
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The rain had died down, only dribbling from the sky, as they
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entered the wooden village, biomass reactors churning dark smoke
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through chimneys into the sky.
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Brenn did not stay long at the Dowager's home, only taking time
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to change his clothes and give his wife a brief farewell. He wanted
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to stay longer, but knew that Slyph would probably find some way of
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coaxing him into staying the night.
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He did not leave rustic Psittac immediately. Through the mist
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he trudged up the hill to the microwave station to see Slyph's
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sister. With a few bangs on the metal door, Neridia opened the door
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and a blast of electrically heated air greeted him.
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"Thank God you are here," she said, pulling him into the room
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full of lights and banks of switches. She was older than Slyph by a
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few years, but with golden hair and brown eyes - a product of the
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Dowager's first marriage. She sat him down at the console and
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nervously poured him a steaming cup of bark juice.
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"What is going on?" Brenn asked, tapping several consoles in
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hopes that their numbers would change. They did not.
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"It's a blackout," she nervously fretted over the consoles,
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readjusting what he had touched. "At least that's what Eshan at the
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Black River relay said just before he went off. Eshan also said to
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initiate the civil defense plan. I've looked through the manuals.
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There is nothing about a plan like that. He also said there was an
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attack on the capital. Interstellar missiles, he said he heard.
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You were a warrior. What does it mean?" Her brow knotted and she
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looked at him, until she realized he was not looking at her.
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Somewhere else. Somewhere but nowhere. She took a deep breath and
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stood in front of him.
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"Brenn?" she said.
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"They are not missiles, they are people," he looked up at her
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and gulped his juice. "The Beacons. They are here." He stood up
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and set down his drink. "Inside of drop pods."
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"An invasion." she said.
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"Sort of." he replied, and went to the door.
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"Wait!" she ran after him, "What about the defense plan? You
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were a warrior. You know what to do. Please help us."
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"I'll do what I can," he opened the metal door and rain splashed
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at his foot. "But I can't do it here."
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"But what do *we* do?" she asked.
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"There is nothing you can do. Not against the Beacons, anyway."
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Brenn slammed the door behind him and crept down the hill, wrapping
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his cloak around his tired bones.
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* * *
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A different microwave tower, this one much taller, loomed far
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above on the top of the craggy peak of Mount Ptilogon. *I shouldn't
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have looked at it,* Brenn thought as he stumbled and fell off the
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path. He clambered back on it, careful not to catch a glimpse at
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the green valley below, and continued through the mud.
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A muscle between his rib cage and his shoulder throbbed.
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Thirty-six years ago he could have pulled himself up the cliff with
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no problem. But then again, thirty-six years ago he wouldn't have
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stumbled.
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The path widened out. It was a eerie sight, even to one who had
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seen it before. All of those toad trees with their green, knobby
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bark. And the way they swayed back and forth. Springy. Totally
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unlike real trees. They were, by definition, alien.
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Brenn began to walk through the toad tree grove, toward a
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boulder. It was a large boulder, about the size of a man. He
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lifted it. The fiberglass shell lifted easily, exposing a parabolic
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dish spinning slowly about a base.
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He crouched down, his knees popping, and removed a panel. Data
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flashed across the screen and he sighed. Everything checked out.
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They had come. With several button punches the dish stopped
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spinning and zeroed in on the tower.
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Blackness. Nothing. No transmission. He leaned back and sat
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in the mud. The eastern continent beyond the mountains was under
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blackout as well.
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His backside was no longer just cold, but wet. And muddy. A
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cold wind whisked up his cloak as he stood up. His knees popped.
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His shoulder ached. Brenn swore he could feel his arteries
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hardening. *I'm too old for this. If they would have only come
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later. When I am dead and buried. Then I would be prepared.*
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Slyph's round face flashed before him. She was still a baby.
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He had no right to marry her. *Things are all backward here, on
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this planet a thousand light years from nowhere.*
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He looked started again through the mud and quickly came to the
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cave. It was still there after all of these years. A big gaping
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maw cut in solid rock by the trickling of water. He could feel the
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water in his boot and on his backside. Bits of him were being
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eroded too.
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A cool draft of air fluttered about him in the darkness. He dug
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through his pockets and flicked on the retrieved torch. Glistening
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sparkles danced before him. Some from water dripping off
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stalactites. Some from the fools' gold that infested Mount
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Ptilogon.
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He stepped deeper into the pit, down a natural staircase
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lovingly caressed for millennia by water trickling from above.
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There was a flutter of something that the bioengineers had meant to
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eradicate, but couldn't. Just like the herd beasts. Whatever it
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was would probably have been good eating, but his mind was not on
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food. He had to get past the balcony in one piece.
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It dropped off before him, into the darkness below. It seemed
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to Brenn that it had changed. It was more slippery. Smoother. And
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there was less of a ledge. Three decades of trickle had eaten away
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the footholds leading down to the floor, perhaps some twenty meters
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below. And the torch refused to light up what was below.
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He knelt and banged the torch against the floor. The beam
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wavered, but refused to spit out more light. Geological processes
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had cut him off from his buried treasure. But something fell loose
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in his mind. It rattled about, then he remembered.
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The rope! It had to be around somewhere. He began looking
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around at the boulders on the stone balcony. How many years ago had
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he fastened it? Too many. But he had. Around a boulder. On top
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of the balcony. But where?
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There! He saw it and grabbed it up. It crumbled into his hand.
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Dust. Clogging up the torches beam. *Damn surplus. Hemp? He said
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it was plastiweave. Bastard.*
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Brenn made a mental note to demand a refund from the weasely
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trader. But he crumpled up the note and threw it away. The trader
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was probably dead by now and his sons were cheating other, younger
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customers.
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"If the emperor can't go to the sun, bring the sun to the
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emperor," Brenn muttered to himself. Could it hear him? Would it
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still respond?
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"Tighra!" he yelled into the darkness as he perched on the edge.
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"Tighra! Activate!"
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Amidst the echoes he though he heard something. Something down
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below. A muffled hum?
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"Turn on your God damned lights, Tighra!"
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The immense cavern burst with light, blinding him.
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"Down down down, tone it down!" He carefully unshielded his eyes
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with his arm.
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There it was, glowing it all it's glory. A bulky humanoid
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figure, twenty meters below, forty out. Black stripes played about
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on it's glowing apricot skin.
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"Tighra unit on," a voice boomed. "One point one nine to the
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ninth power second since last activation, Commander Brenn Ortiz, CTM
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7789-007."
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"Brenn Kschted, actually. I got married."
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"Congratulations, Commander," boomed the emotionless voice.
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Brenn started to tell it he wasn't a Commander anymore, but who knew
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how the software would respond then.
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"Diagnostic?"
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"Urgent repairs needed. Priority level. Suggest going to
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nearest shipyard for repairs."
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"I know that!" Brenn yelled. "I knew that three god damned
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decades ago. Can you move?"
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The suit paused for a moment. "Diagnostic reports fifty percent
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chance of movement capabilities, with a plus or minus fifty percent
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error."
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Brenn shook his head. One day he would find the technician who
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wrote diagnostic programs and . . . *That's odd,* he thought.
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*It's been a while since I imagined hurting anyone.*
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Images flashed before him. Beautiful orange explosions searing
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flesh and bone. Horrified faces screaming for mercy. The darkness
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of space and dehumidified, crumbling corpses who turned to dust just
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like the rope.
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"Move your leg!" he yelled down to it. Tighra, a machine that
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cost more than the entire planet was worth, completed the first step
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of the hokey-pokey flawlessly.
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"Good. Now get the weapons pack. Attach it to your chest.
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Then jump up here and let me take a look at you."
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Tighra lurched forward. Dust spilled off from its head and
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shoulders. It quickly found a metallic case and slapped it to its
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chest. It hung there immovable with a magnetic seal.
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Then suddenly the machine bounded up the cliff, but not quite.
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It missed the top and hurtled downward, barely catching itself,
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hanging on with two fingers of one hand.
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"Jesus," Brenn muttered as it slowly pulled itself up and
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crawled toward him. "Stand up, Tighra, and turn off your skin
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lights. Just the top will do."
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The cavern dimmed appreciable and he looked over the mechanical
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entity. Under the patchy layer of dust he could see the blast
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marks, the twisted bits of metal, and the ruined left hand.
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"Servo mechanisms in the left leg failed," it commented. "Test
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leap indicated seventy percent of systems operating at forty
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percent. Unit is beyond repair. Suggest entire Tighra unit be sent
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to the nearest military scrap heap and disposed of by qualified
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personnel."
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"That's a pretty high regard you have for yourself," Brenn
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detached the case and set it down on the ground. "Is the grenade
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launcher still working?"
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"Shall I test it?"
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"No," his eyes widened. Not in here. You'd bring the whole
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cave down. Just a diagnostic."
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There was a brief pause. He opened the case. Wrapped in foam
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were five grenade, as well as some spare parts and a radio. Four of
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the grenades had red bands around them, one with green. He
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carefully pulled it out.
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"Launcher unit seventy percent reliable, plus or minus ten
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percent."
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"Can you handle this? I picked it up long after I stashed you
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in here. After the war," he held the green tear-shaped object
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before its sensor.
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"Affirmative. But caution, Tighra unit is not reliable.
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Entering combat is not suggested."
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"I know how you feel," Brenn popped open the tube connected to
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the left forearm. The grenade clip was still half full. Just like
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that day long ago. He carefully slipped the green grenade at the
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bottom of the clip. Two reds, and a green. He slammed the lid
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down.
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"Okay, I want you to pop your head open so I can crawl in. And
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Tighra, I order you not to do a med scan of me. I *order* you."
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* * *
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"You are fatigued, Commander Kschted," the suit chimed. Brenn's
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lungs were burning. Spasms raced up and down his spine. And he had
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just walked a little under a kilometer.
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"I *told* you no med scan!" he hissed between clenched teeth.
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Armor wasn't as easy as everyone thought. A warrior couldn't just
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sit in it and have it walk around for you. The legs still moved.
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The arms still moved. And the suit, left to its own, would pop the
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wearer's limbs out of joint. One *had* to move with it.
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"Request initiation of muscle relaxant injection," it said.
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"No!" he hissed. "Not yet. I'll be needing all of it for
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later." His eyes swirled, but not only from the pain. The
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heads-up-display was driving him mad. He was not used to the three
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hundred and sixty degree display. It seemed everything was in front
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of him - including the bits that were receding behind him.
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"Gimme a shot," Brenn finally broke down as he passed a ridge.
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"A little one. Analgesic or something." He felt the pressure at the
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base of his neck as the drug was injected. "Hey, Tighra, what's the
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shelf life of analgesic? I mean, does it break down into any other
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chemical components? Like some kind of neurotoxin?"
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"That information is not available in my databanks."
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Brenn took a deep breath. Perhaps it would be all over now.
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Done in by his own suit. Then it hit.
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"Ah," he gurgled. Thirty-six years without so much as an
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aspirin. He felt good. Almost high. The aches had drifted away
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like the dust falling off of the suit. But then he remembered.
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Everything felt ten times worse after the drugs wore off.
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"No more med scans unless it's an emergency," he told the
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machine.
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"Your body is eliciting danger signs right now," the suit said.
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"I mean, don't poke around with my body unless I'm unconscious
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or my arm is ripped off. Okay?"
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"Okay, Commander Kschted."
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Brenn huffed and puffed away from the mountain. His popping
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joints were outmatched by the squeaks and groans coming from the
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suit. *We should both be retired, living on some zero-gee station
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somewhere. Me and Tighra floating around a breakfast table, sipping
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tea from little baggies. Or he could sip silicon gel. Or
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whatever.* Brenn stopped thinking a moment, and came up with the
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conclusion that it wasn't just ordinary aspirin coursing through his
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veins.
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"You suck," he said a they stumbled into the green valley.
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"I said, you suck." Then he remembered. Suits weren't designed
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to respond to insults. Something the technicians thought up. It
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was suppose to keep the warriors out of trouble. But there was a
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way around it.
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"You suck, do you hear? You suck."
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"I hear you." Brenn smiled and they began going up the far side
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of the valley. As the drug began to wear off, they clambered up a
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hill and took up position.
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Brenn adjusted the HUD to small field magnification and zoomed
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in on a nearby mountain. It's peak was taller than Mount Ptilogon,
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put with a more gentle slope. Snow sparkled at it's summit, and he
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zoomed in on it.
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IR was useless, so he changed to visual. There it was. The
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chalet. Or what was left of it. His mind drifted back to when he
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had first arrived . . .
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* * *
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"Christ it's hot. Tig, dehumidifier on full," Brenn had always
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hated the fact that while in a suit you couldn't just wipe the sweat
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from your forehead.
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"Cancel that," a voice crackled in his ear. He turned to
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Akhenaton, trailing him several paced.
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"Sir, if I'm going to do point, I should at least be able to
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see," he waved his arms about. Akhenaton stopped, along with the
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four other Beacons behind him.
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"Thermals must remain low. Your power plant is almost visible,"
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Akhenaton replied calmly.
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"I'm sweating like a swine. Can't I just open my visor. There
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is snow all over the place. Can't I just pour a handful of snow on
|
|
my face?"
|
|
"Unexceptable, Commander." Akhenaton signalled with his hands to
|
|
end the conversation. Brenn opened his mouth, then shut it. They
|
|
continued on up the mountain towards the chalet.
|
|
Of course they weren't supposed to be anywhere near mountains.
|
|
They were supposed to be near the shore, bolstering the ground
|
|
troops. Four years of fighting and the Corian Triad was actually on
|
|
the defensive. Triad troops were being slaughtered left and right
|
|
by farm girls and back water bureaucrats. The real problem was that
|
|
the same thing was happening on seventeen planets in this sector
|
|
alone. Something had to be done.
|
|
So it was, or rather, it was not done. The fly boys up in
|
|
darkie-darkie land miscalculated and sent the Beacons of Light, the
|
|
most skilled and heavily equipped Corian foot soldiers, straight
|
|
into a mountain, a thousand klicks away from where they could do any
|
|
good. And with the EMP satellites in orbit, no one could get a
|
|
message through and have the fly boys executed.
|
|
So they had to walk. But for some reason the commander wanted
|
|
to walk straight up a mountain to investigate a chalet they had seen
|
|
some kilometers back. *Of all the stupid, idiotic things . . .*
|
|
Brenn grumbled in thought, because the Akhenaton could hear
|
|
everything he said.
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
"You know, Tighra, we didn't even know if we were in hostile
|
|
territory or not," Brenn scanned the chalet closely. From what he
|
|
could tell, the roof had caved in. At least half of the supports
|
|
had collapsed. Time had taken it's toll on the building. Just like
|
|
Tighra. Just like him.
|
|
"Energy surge directly ahead," the machine's cold voice informed
|
|
him.
|
|
"What?"
|
|
A blue arc of light gracefully flew from the mountain, across
|
|
the valley, and incinerate a pine tree two meters away.
|
|
"Jesus Christ! Fire!" Brenn yelled.
|
|
"Please be specific," The suit replied. "Nothing is within
|
|
degraded weapons range."
|
|
"I see you," a voice crackled in his ear. It was Akhenaton.
|
|
Brenn's eyes widened.
|
|
"Thermals, Tig, thermals! Drop 'em!" Brenn cried, and began to
|
|
run.
|
|
"Please be more specific."
|
|
Another blue arc lashed out, ripping in two the tree that he had
|
|
been diving for. He hit the ground with his shoulder and bright
|
|
sparks dashed before his eyes.
|
|
Brenn shook his head to clear it. He was lying face to the
|
|
ground next to a burning tree.
|
|
"Thermals! Don't exhaust the heat, Tig!" he moaned.
|
|
"Ports sealed." Brenn did not argue as he felt pressure on his
|
|
neck.
|
|
"What was that blue streak? A particle beam?"
|
|
"That information is not in my data banks," Tighra told him. Of
|
|
course. They must have improved the suits and invented new weapons.
|
|
What in the hell was he up against? And there were six of them!
|
|
"I knew you'd come back, Tighra," the voice crackled it his ear.
|
|
For a moment Brenn wondered why Akhenaton was talking to his suit.
|
|
Then he remembered. Call names. In Akhenaton's eyes, or rather, in
|
|
Captain Harmsworth's, he was still called by his suit's name.
|
|
"I knew you would too . . ." he cut himself off, almost saying
|
|
'sir'.
|
|
"Teredo is here as well. We have some unfinished business."
|
|
"Hey Tighra, it's me," an asian voice said. "It's time, you
|
|
know. Meet us at the site and we can finish this."
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
"I swear it looks like a ski lodge, boss," Teredo accented voice
|
|
hissed into Brenn's ear as he peeked over the snow bank.
|
|
"I'm picking up about ten people all moving around on the upper floor,"
|
|
Brenn sunk back down and turned to the squatting Beacons. "What's a
|
|
ski lodge?"
|
|
"I thought you were from Switzerland, Tig," Teredo said.
|
|
"I was born there, but I went to school at Ishtar South. What's
|
|
a ski lodge?"
|
|
"Cut the chatter," Ahkhenaton ordered. "That building may be an
|
|
enemy outpost."
|
|
"A ski lodge is where you strap plastic panels to your feet and
|
|
slide down the side of a snowy mountain." Teredo continued.
|
|
"Sounds pretty stupid to me," Brenn chuckled. "Besides,
|
|
Switzerland hasn't had snow in two centuries."
|
|
"Will you two shut up?" Ahkhenaton yelled. "Tighra, do a scan
|
|
under it. See if it has any lower levels."
|
|
"Yes sir," Brenn stood up. It would take the sensors two
|
|
minutes to pierce all of that granite. He looked at the chalet as
|
|
sweat poured down his face. Snow in Switzerland? Ha. That was
|
|
like saying it rained in Central America. Ludicrous proposition.
|
|
"Sir," Brenn spoke with his back to the commander, "I take it we
|
|
are going to kill everyone and secure the building?"
|
|
"Yes."
|
|
"After that can we toss Teredo off the mountain strapped to a
|
|
piece of plastic?"
|
|
Before Akhenaton could get everyone to quit laughing, Brenn
|
|
spotted somthing on the corner of his screen.
|
|
"Uh, sir, something's coming. It's hugging the terrain at 100
|
|
meters."
|
|
"What is it?"
|
|
"Uh, Tig says it's a L-53 troop transport. No markings. No
|
|
ident signal." Brenn saw the white speck grow on his monitor.
|
|
"Looks to be headed this way. Oh. It's armed."
|
|
"Who the hell could it be?" Teredo voiced.
|
|
"No respectable pilot would strip Triad symbolds off a vehicle,"
|
|
the commander said. "It's got to be those bastard rebels. We're in
|
|
luck, men and women, we've stumbled across the enemy."
|
|
"Lemme shoot it, boss," Teredo said.
|
|
"No, Tighra can have that honor."
|
|
"Thanks," Brenn charged up his left arm and let loose with a
|
|
particle beam. It was a direct hit, sending the flaming transport
|
|
hurtling into the valley floor.
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
"Tighra," Teredo's voice echoed Brenn's ear canal. It was
|
|
getting hot. His heat throbbed. His shoulder ached. And his groin
|
|
was hurting in places it hadn't hurt since Slyph had been able to
|
|
have sex.
|
|
"Tighra. You can't hide. The boss still has your ident signal.
|
|
Don't you remeber?"
|
|
Christ, Brenn screamed at himself, staring up at the cloudy sky.
|
|
*I would have been safer leaving the suit where it was. They might
|
|
have never found me.*
|
|
He started to tell Tighra to get up, but closed his mouth. It
|
|
would be stupid to let Akhenaton listen in on everything was doing,
|
|
so he stretched his neck out and poked several pressure sensors with
|
|
his chin. The suit slowly stood up and his eyes flooded with tears.
|
|
"Why the site?" he gasped as another squirt of pain killers
|
|
flooded his system.
|
|
"Everything must be coordinated properly," Akhenaton said
|
|
coldly. It was that same statement that had initialized the
|
|
massacre of the embryos on Brakor. Two thousand vat babies
|
|
destroyed. The memory jarred something in him. Had he really
|
|
killed them? For thirty six years he thought he had remembered.
|
|
But now it seemed he had only remebered the concept, not the deed
|
|
itself. But now he remebered.
|
|
He remembered the melting of plastic, the tidal flood of
|
|
embryonic fluid, the fire. The screams of an entire planet blasting
|
|
through his speakers. And he remembered laughing. Laughing.
|
|
The suit was moving but he didn't realize it, walking onward
|
|
toward the site. The other two must have been on the other side of
|
|
the valley, making the same journey.
|
|
His baby's pudgy face flashed before his eyes. Baby Brenn.
|
|
Slyph wanted to name him after his great father. She was so
|
|
innocent. How could she know? How could she comprehend what he had
|
|
done?
|
|
It was almost impossible for him, but the dulling drugs seemed
|
|
to unravel the strings tieing up the ancient memories. The
|
|
slaughter of countless people on countless worlds. How could she
|
|
comprehend what he was?
|
|
He became aware of the muscles knotted up in his stomach, but
|
|
could not feel the pain. It must have been horrific. Brenn gulped
|
|
and headed along the gradient. The trees gave way and it came into
|
|
view.
|
|
Nothing. Flat land. A little stream. Scrub. Mud must have
|
|
covered up the debris, just like the garbage in his mind had covered
|
|
up the attrocities. *I havn't changed. I've just buried it. I'm
|
|
the same person. I can't feel. I can't pity. I'm just like them.*
|
|
But as he entered the clearing he saw something that hadn't been
|
|
there that day. Something that had been added later. He walked
|
|
over to it. A slab of granite. A marker. With words.
|
|
"What's that?" Teredo suprised him. They both were standing on
|
|
the other side of the clearing upon a sloping rise. Kings of the
|
|
hill. Their suits were shinning in all of their glory, a bright sun
|
|
on Akhenaton's chest, while Teredo's skin glowed white all over like
|
|
luminesent puss.
|
|
"Where are the others?" Brenn asked.
|
|
"Others?" Teredo laughed. "You killed Sirrocco and Yoicks right
|
|
over there," he stretched his arm out to the stream. "Don't you
|
|
remeber, Tig?"
|
|
Brenn looked and nodded, even though they didn't see it.
|
|
Akhenaton spoke up. "And Gyrfalc died honorable on Brakor."
|
|
"No he didn't. We all made it off," Brenn stepped away from the
|
|
stone.
|
|
"There was another insurrection. The planet had to be
|
|
eliminated."
|
|
"The planet?"
|
|
"And Tesla bought it in the Weisa`cker vortex of Beta Pictoris.
|
|
A minor revolt that turned into a major one," Teredo chuckled.
|
|
"But I saw four others?" Brenn motioned to the sky.
|
|
"Stupid boy," Akhenaton said. "Are you so all important to
|
|
think that we are irreplaceable. We are just cogs. This business
|
|
does not require their presence."
|
|
Alarm bells rung in the back of his head. Something was wrong.
|
|
Why would he feel that something was wrong? Here he was, ready to
|
|
be slaughtered, and suddenly something Akhenaton had said was wrong?
|
|
"Why?" his knee began to tremble. "Why not them?" Beacons
|
|
rarely split up. They hung together as if they were magnetized.
|
|
"Well, you see," Teredo started, "The boss here kinda told
|
|
everybody you were dead. Summarily executed."
|
|
"Shut up!" Akhenaton barked. "That oversight will soon be
|
|
rectifed. Teredo, I give you the honor of killing him."
|
|
"Great," Teredo said, begining to walk toward him. "Where do
|
|
you want it, Tig, By the rock, in the stream, or in your back?"
|
|
"Uh," his heart began to pound. Stimulants screeched into his
|
|
neck. The suit knew he was about to die. Why was he having a hard
|
|
time beleiving it?
|
|
"Uh, waitaminute," Brenn said. "How have the gathagene
|
|
treatments worked?"
|
|
"What?" Teredo stopped.
|
|
"Do you still look young? I mean, I only got one treatment.
|
|
Open your visor and let me see."
|
|
Teredo started again. "Gosh, Tig, can't you think of anything
|
|
original. That's how you got Sirrocco."
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
The heat was building and his lips were chapping. After the
|
|
vehicle went down, nothing had happened at the chalet. No gun
|
|
turrets rose from the ground. No missile raced toward the sky and
|
|
rained down on them, so Akhenaton set the priority to investigating
|
|
the crash site.
|
|
They were getting close. A few trees were smoldering. There
|
|
was charred bits of things all over. Blackened arms and legs hung
|
|
from trees like bizarre fruit. Brenn stumbled over a trunk and came
|
|
into the clearing.
|
|
Chunks of everything were scattered around. Seat stuffing blew
|
|
about, mixing orange into the white snow. Part of a langing strut
|
|
was wrapped, like a piece of string, around a tree. And he heard
|
|
something. Something moved.
|
|
"Sir," he said to Akhenaton, trailing behind. "A person over
|
|
there."
|
|
"Okay. Teredo, go find the black box. Maybe we can trace this
|
|
to the rebel's base. Gyrfalc and Tesla, you come with me to find
|
|
what's left of the weapons stores. And Sirrocco and Yoicks, you mop
|
|
up the survivors with Tighra.
|
|
Brenn looked down at the seat near him. A person was stil
|
|
strapped to it. Charred over most of it's body. What looked like a
|
|
male. Fifteen or so years old. Brenn had entered the military at
|
|
fifteen. They must have been shiping new recruits somewhere.
|
|
He leveled his arm and fired the laser. The head popped,
|
|
splattering spongy chunks all over. Another semi-intact survivor
|
|
behind a panel. Another shot. Another survivor. Another shot.
|
|
Sweat was getting ito his eyes.
|
|
"Sir," Brenn called out. "The fires around here will cloak us,
|
|
won't they? I mean, can't I turn on the air conditioning?" There
|
|
was a brief pause.
|
|
"Negatory. It will waste power. If anyone is hot, just open
|
|
your visors."
|
|
Five 'thank gods' jammed the transmission frequency. Brenn slid
|
|
the opaque shield from his face and breathed the cold air deeply.
|
|
And he choked.
|
|
"Crap," said Sirrocco next to him. "This stinks. Why can't
|
|
people burn clean."
|
|
"Bastard rebels stinking up the place," Brenn fired at another
|
|
body near a clump of long plastic shards. He made his way slowly
|
|
through the mess until he could register no more life. Then he
|
|
walked toward Teredo.
|
|
He was leaning up against a three meter tall hydrogen cannister
|
|
that had somehow survived the crash. Next to him was an orange
|
|
cylinder with wires leading toward Teredo's helmet. Akhenaton was
|
|
with him.
|
|
"Sir, I've accessed the navcom. Looks like they were way off
|
|
course."
|
|
"Why?"
|
|
"Well, we are 900 klicks from any rebel territory that we last
|
|
heard about. Dunno why they would penatrate Triad territory this
|
|
far. Hold on. I'm patching into the database. Ah. Security
|
|
sealed. Lemee break it. There."
|
|
"Can you tell the registration?" Akhenaton asked.
|
|
"It's owned by the Proconsul Whydt."
|
|
"What?" Sirrocco walked up to them.
|
|
"It's government property," Teredo looked up at them and smiled.
|
|
"Well, it ain't he first time we've accidentally brought down one of
|
|
our own."
|
|
"What was it's flight path. It's manifest. I've seen no heavy
|
|
weapons," Akhenaton said.
|
|
"Fuck!" Teredo ripped the wires away and jumped up. "Fuck!" he
|
|
walked away from the flight box. "Fuck!"
|
|
"What?"
|
|
"It was full of kids, headed for the chalet. For a skiing
|
|
trip.
|
|
"So?"
|
|
"They were being evacuated from the capital. The Proconsul
|
|
himself chartered the trip. It had his son on board."
|
|
Ahkenaton suddenly straightened up.
|
|
"Holy shit," Sirrocco said. "Are we in trouble?"
|
|
Ahkenaton turned to face them. "We aren't in trouble."
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
Power surge, Tigrah's monitor read as Brenn watched Teredo point
|
|
his arm toward him.
|
|
"Stop! Wait!" Brenn yelled, waving his arm. "My laser is
|
|
busted. It won't be a fair fight!"
|
|
"So?"
|
|
"Uh, well . . . don't I deserve a chance? I mean, let's go at
|
|
it, hand-to-hand."
|
|
"No," he laughed.
|
|
Brenn pointed his arm and squeezed, launching the green-stripped
|
|
grenade. It elongated as it flew, slapped into Teredo's arm and
|
|
wrapped around the particle beam nozzle. Teredo fired, igniting the
|
|
explosive.
|
|
There was a burst of light and his arm sailed off.
|
|
Brenn turned and ran, the radio frequency filled with screaming.
|
|
He raced up the incline. His joints were on fire. Unknown liquids
|
|
were being pumped into his spine.
|
|
*Warning,* read Tighra's display, *you are severely fatigued.
|
|
Rest is suggested.*
|
|
"No Tig, no! We've got to get back to the cave! Keep running,
|
|
even if you break my legs! Keep running!"
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
Akhenaton watched from on high as Tighra raced up the side of
|
|
the valley and into the trees. *He's still got spunk,* he thought,
|
|
*even if he is an idiot.*
|
|
The eternally young warrior with articficial nanobots coursing
|
|
through his arteries walked down the hill toward his fallen
|
|
companion. Teredo was twitching a bit. The explosion had done just
|
|
enough damage to rip off the arm, not sear the wound. Red blood
|
|
pumped out into the muddy earth.
|
|
Akhenaton knelt down and slid open Teredo's visor. His eyes
|
|
were wide open and his mouth was gasping.
|
|
"Sear it, boss, sear it,"
|
|
"Sorry," Akhenaton aimed his arm and fired. Teredo's suit
|
|
sparked like a metal fork in a microwave oven. Sparks, smoke, and a
|
|
final twitch. *At last that mouth will be silent. But there is
|
|
still another.*
|
|
"No Tig, no! We've got to get back to the cave! Keep running,
|
|
even if you break my legs! Keep running!" came through on his
|
|
speakers.
|
|
*A man who holds some of the highest honors in the Triad, forced
|
|
to live in a cave,* Akhenaton shook his head.
|
|
But then he though. *No. He is not one to run home from
|
|
battle. It's a trap. The cave must be a trap. He intends to lure
|
|
me there. He must have enough explosives to bring down the whole
|
|
cave and entrap me.* Akhenaton laughed. *He's still up to his old
|
|
tricks.*
|
|
He started his suit at a mild gait until he picked up the IR
|
|
trail. *The idiot is venting all of his heat. Of course, he wants
|
|
me to follow it. Right into his cave. The fool will be suprised,
|
|
though.* He increased his speed.
|
|
The trail wound across the hills, back through the valley, and
|
|
up the slopes of an impressive mountain. Strange trees bobed up and
|
|
down in a strange rhythm, and then he saw it. The mouth of the
|
|
cave. But in front of it was Tighra.
|
|
He was on his hands and knees, crawling, grasping, desperately
|
|
trying to reach the cave. Akhenaton fired over his head.
|
|
"Stand and fight like a man," he yelled. Tighra stopped and
|
|
collapsed.
|
|
"Why? Why kill me?" Akhenaton heard wheezing sounds. The boy
|
|
was in pretty bad shape.
|
|
"You killed the Proconsul's son. You are a traitor,"
|
|
"But you gave the order," Tighra slowly turned over on his back.
|
|
"You forget War Law. You can't blame your sins on me."
|
|
"But you are responsible. You gave the order."
|
|
"And no one must know that. Such news would have scrapped the
|
|
Beacon Project. Loosing this planet almost did that anyway. But we
|
|
were succssessful elsewhere and now there are twenty Beacon units
|
|
from Persei to Saggittarii. We couldn't loose that merely because I
|
|
made a mistake."
|
|
With a verbal grunt, Tighra stood up. Ahkenaton powered up his
|
|
particle beam.
|
|
"I'm an old man. Spare me. I won't tell," he gasped.
|
|
"Sorry," Akhenaton fired and the blue arc raced towards Tighra's
|
|
chest and struck. It collapsed and shrapnel burst forth from
|
|
behind. The scream of a lungless man echoed in Akhenaton's ears,and
|
|
the body collapsed.
|
|
It was done. Akhenaton turned his weapon's power off. *He's
|
|
dead. They are all dead. I am safe.*
|
|
Just then came a beeping. From a strange looking boulder. *A
|
|
bomb!* He did a scan. Not a bomb. A chonometer. On top of the
|
|
boulder. He walked over to it and picked it it with the suits
|
|
stubby fingers. Tighra's service piece. With a message blinking.
|
|
"Sorry," it read, "couldn't get the message to you sooner. You
|
|
see, the watch has been on record. And patched into the satellite
|
|
dish under the boulder. What you just said went up to your
|
|
superiors. Sorry."
|
|
Akhenaton's eyes flashed open wide. "No!" His scream echoed
|
|
amongst the stars.
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
The birds sang merrily in the abnormally warm weather, but he
|
|
just didn't feel their joy. He had been betrayed by his own
|
|
friends. Now he was stuck on this planet forever. If he dared
|
|
venture off, he would be executed by the Triad.
|
|
But that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to him was
|
|
Slyph and Brenn Jr. And they were on this planet. But would he
|
|
ever see them again.
|
|
He shuffled thorugh the mud on his jury-rigged crutches.
|
|
Nothing was really borken, but Tighra had told him there were
|
|
microscopic cracks all throughout his legs. Poor Tighra. Honorable
|
|
to the end. He couldn't even give in a proper burial. A half ton
|
|
of high density alloys was just impossible to move.
|
|
First he had though of luring Akhenaton into the cave and
|
|
blowing it and him up. But that was a stupid thing to do. He had
|
|
to see Slyph again. Pain shot through his legs and he coughed
|
|
blood. The last of Tighra's pain shots were wearing off. He
|
|
moaned, but continued along the trail.
|
|
Akhenaton had been furious. From where Brenn was hiding in the
|
|
cave, he could have sworn he saw the man was frothing at the mouth.
|
|
Of course he had blasted the boulder and dish to tiny bits, but
|
|
Brenn didn't need it anyway.
|
|
He peered up into the sky above the trees. It wasn't there.
|
|
The microwave tower was gone. He increased the pace. The pain was
|
|
mind numbing.
|
|
The village spread before him. Smoke came from the hill. The
|
|
tower was gone. A huge shuttle was in the town square and had
|
|
collapsed several buildings in his way. His ears began to burn and
|
|
he coughed blood again.
|
|
People were screaming. He hobbled down the street.
|
|
A huge suit stood before him. It's back was to him. Villagers
|
|
were being crowded into the center of the square. Four Beacons were
|
|
roughly shoving them. Several houses had been set on fire and a
|
|
pile of laser rifles was forming at the other end of the square.
|
|
They had found the Dowager's secret stash!
|
|
She was there, amongst the screaming people, trying to calm them
|
|
down. But where was Slyph? There was a pile of bodies. Men,
|
|
mostly. A few women. His stomach turned.
|
|
"Move it, peon," a Beacon kicked a boy in the back. There was
|
|
an audible crack as his spine snaped. His father ran at the soldier
|
|
and burst into flames. Where was Slyph?
|
|
An unarmored soldier dashed out of the shuttle and ran to the
|
|
Beacon in front of Brenn.
|
|
"Sir, his suit has been found on the side of a mountain," Brenn
|
|
heart pounded. They knew about him! Where was Slyph?
|
|
"Crazy bastard," a laugh came from the suit. "We should have
|
|
known he would have run. After that speech he gave to the
|
|
satellite."
|
|
Brenn gasped. It was Akhenaton! They were looing for him! He
|
|
stumbled toward the Beacon and a hand latched around his throat.
|
|
"What is it, old man?" the Beacon asked as he lifted him in the
|
|
air by his neck. Brenn gurgled and coughed, then fell to the
|
|
ground.
|
|
"Sir," he gasped. "I have just journeyed over the mountains. I
|
|
saw an officer. With no suit. Headed east. There is an abandoned
|
|
chalet to the east."
|
|
"Hot damn," the Beacon laughed. "All right!" he sceeched, "Load
|
|
up the shuttle and let's pick up Ahk. Then we can get off of this
|
|
God forsaken rock!"
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
Within minutes they were gone in a blast of dirt. Brenn layed
|
|
in the mud, looking at the shuttle drift away. Where was Slyph?
|
|
"You look like a corpse," Nerida said as she and the Dowager ran
|
|
up to him.
|
|
"Where is Slyph? The baby?" he groaned and tried to sit up.
|
|
"Stop your whining," The Dowager turned her cracked face down at
|
|
him. "What did you say to that goon?"
|
|
"Nothing. Where is Slyph?" tears welled up in his eyes.
|
|
"I'm right here. Baby too," Slyph came out from the crowd and
|
|
knelt next to him. His eyes widened and he grasped her tightly too
|
|
him. The images of horror and war flooded into his mind. Dead men,
|
|
dead mothers, dead babies. And he remembered that his long years in
|
|
exile had tought him to learn how to make life and love it.
|
|
"I'm not too old," he sobbed into her ear.
|
|
"Of course you are," she said. "You're as old as the hills.
|
|
But I love you anyway."
|
|
|
|
|
|
The End
|