The Bounty Hunter: Into The Swarm (5 page)

“No!” the girl screamed and began to cry harder.

“Havard,” Burke said, making the warning weigh heavily in his voice.

“I’m surprised,” he replied. “Everyone is fooled the first time, but
I thought you might see passed it given your experience.”

The trident shot out of the wall suddenly and pierced into the
little girl’s body. A thick stream of wires unravelled behind it, maintaining a
connection with it to the wall. The girl roared louder than a child her size
should have been capable of and it was only then that Burke understood. Another
surge of electricity ran through the wires and pummelled into the girl’s body
as if it was a series of striking fists.

Her flesh ruptured in an explosion of clear fluid, not blood, and
her face contorted as her mouth grew thrice its size and filled with long, thin
teeth. It was an abnormal, forced transformation that looked more unnatural
than any other he had witnessed a member of species 1260 perform. One more
final jolt disintegrated what flesh remained of the alien’s disguise and all
that remained was its core, near identical to the one Burke had delivered,
spinning on the floor.

Burke turned to Havard and saw the look of disgust and anger on his
face. It was rare that he was anything but stoic and pragmatic, but Burke
remembered well the story Havard had told him of his first encounter with the
shapeshifting aliens. He had led the team that first encountered them when they
were doing the initial investigation of potentially inhabitable planets.

The aliens had impersonated members of his team and had left many of
them dead. Some had stayed imprisoned for years afterwards as they tried to
determine who was human or alien. The planet had been bombarded as a final,
preventative measure to protect all races of the galaxy from infestation. For
Havard, it hadn’t been enough. He had shouldered the full responsibility of the
deaths of his people. It was one of the first conversations he had had with
Burke, when he assigned his first contract to hunt one of the rogue aliens.

“This is the closest we’ve gotten to a method of identifying them,”
Havard explained. “Unfortunately, the amount of energy required is also enough
to kill a human if we’re wrong. It’s just further proof that we were right to
exterminate them. It would have been an unmitigated disaster if they had been
given free exposure to the galaxy.”

Burke nodded. Havard continued to talk as they began to walk around
the outside of the room. Each cell that they passed was similarly darkened as
the first one had been.

“A few were released in the early days that we held them here. Like
I said, everyone is fooled the first time, and some of their tricks can be
convincing to the more sensitive employees here. We’ve had to install sound and
visual dampening measures to stop people from going mad while they work in this
room. They would all cry in unison and, even when you know it’s fake, the never
ending screams of your own kind gets under your skin.”

They stopped at an opening in the wall that led to an elevated
platform. Burke followed his lead onto it and watched as they began to ascend
up the wall and passed the other floors around it. When they were near the top,
he could see that the cells on the upper levels weren’t darkened and displayed
their prisoners. They looked like animals, more of the feral aliens that were
in the hallways outside of the large room. There was something familiar about
the way they moved, but he was too far away to get a good enough look.

“This next part might be difficult for you,” Havard explained when
the platform stopped on the top floor. “You might want to brace yourself.”

Burke was confused. He had been given no warning about the
shapeshifter posing as the little girl. He stepped out onto the floor and
turned to face the nearest cell. He understood then, as he felt his chest
tighten with anger and his fists instinctively balled up. There were two of the
aliens inside, shuffling about on all four of their legs and swinging their
bunched, thin tails with each step. It had been nearly a decade since he last
saw a dross but the memories of the war came back to him potent and raw.

“You shouldn’t have these here,” Burke said quickly. “This is too
big of a risk. If they get out and burrow, there’ll be no getting rid of them.”

“We know,” Havard spoke slowly. “The security doors serve another
purpose other than privacy. This entire part of the facility can be sealed off
and flooded. There are layers of reinforced barriers in every direction. We
never let them leave this part of the planet. We’ve taken precautions.”

Burke shook his head. “You should keep them on a station far away
from any planet. Earth is theirs now. Mars was infested from just one ship that
had captured a few for experiments. Only a few, and they dug and bred and now
Mars is theirs too. This is too risky.”

“We’ve had them for years,” Havard said, still keeping his voice
calm. “Most of the soldiers that survived the war weren’t able to reacclimate
to society, so I know how difficult this is for you. The suicide rate of the
veterans alone is a staggering figure. If it makes you feel any better, it
might help explain why Adam turned on you.”

Burke’s face tensed into a glare that would have made any other man
crumble. His upper lip curved into a silent snarl.

“It’s okay,” Cass said.

“What possible reason could you have for showing me this?” Burke
growled. “I was born on earth. There was nothing to debate when I chose to sign
up to defend it. I was there for all six years of the war. Six years of
constantly losing ground, leaving bodies behind to be eaten because there was
no time to extract them. Six years of new strategies from desperate generals
that brought new ideas with a flourish of fanfare, proclaiming that it would
end the war just to raise our spirits for a little while.

“And each time it failed. Each failure was worse than the one that
came before it. Do you know what it’s like to live in orbit above your planet
and watch as less parts of it light up during each night? You spout out
statistics and theories like it helps you understand or sympathize with me. Fuck
you. Why the fuck are you showing me this?”

He kept his jaw firm as Havard looked at him with pity, not anger,
and it made his temper flare even more. He was out of line and he knew it, and
the fact that Havard wouldn’t call him out on it made it worse.

“Because,” Havard said finally, “I need you to go back to earth and
get something for me.”

“No. Absolutely not. Send someone else.”

“I already have. They never came back,” Havard said. “As you said,
you fought the entire duration of the war. You’re among the few in the galaxy
that have more experience fighting the dross than anyone else. I’ll pay you double
your usual rate.”

Burke shook his head.

“That would be enough for our top choice of ship,” Cass said in his
ear. “But if you don’t want to do it, then that shouldn’t be a good enough
reason.”

“Fine,” Havard said. “A better reason, although this can’t leave
this room. We’re on the verge of creating a weapon that will wipe them from the
planet. Conventional weapons, as you well know, don’t work because of how
entrenched they are below the surface. To kill them that way would be to render
the planet uninhabitable. We’re working on a biological weapon, one that will
sweep through their population and kill them.”

“You sound exactly like our commanders. It’s yet another brilliant
idea that’ll require hard work and sacrifice but ultimately won’t make a
difference.”

Havard turned to the cell and looked down at his tablet. Within a
few minutes he had a compartment open from one of the walls and the dross
backed away from it, wary of a potential threat. There was a low hissing noise,
a gas being released within the cell, but no visible change that Burke could
see. A few more moments passed before one of the dross fell onto its side. Its
chest expanded and contracted quickly, like its breathing was labored. The
second alien collapsed similarly a few minutes later.

“They’ll be dead within the day,” Havard stated. “They’d spread the virus
to every dross they’d come in contact with during that time and, most
importantly, they cannibalize their own dead. We’re in the late stages of
ensuring there are enough varying strains that random immunities won’t let a
percentage of their population survive. If we don’t get this right the first
time, it’ll be two more decades until we can try again.”

“That looks promising,” Cass said. “I hate to admit that he might be
right, but it might work.”

“You’d be helping end the war, finally after all this time,” Havard
added.

Burke took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, never taking his
eyes off the dross dying in the cell. He thought of the conversation he had
with Cass in the ship’s armory prior to reaching ACU. He wondered if this was
another change that had happened to him without him realizing it. Would his
former self have hesitated at any chance of striking back at the aliens that
destroyed his home?

“What do you need me to do?” he said quietly.

“I’ll send the details to your ship when your aegis is repaired.
Thank you, Burke.”

* * *

Two days passed before Burke’s armor was delivered to his ship. He
stayed outside of ACU’s facility while he waited and didn’t hear from Havard
again after receiving his instructions. Burke spent the time reviewing all of
the information over and over. The dross were an enemy that he knew demanded
careful planning, especially after he read what was required of him. It was far
more dangerous than anything he had done during the war.

Natalie was among the group that brought the repaired aegis to his
ship. She was, excluding Havard, the only person Burke knew in ACU. She was one
of the people that designed parts of his armor and had worked with him over a
week when he first purchased it. The suit had to be customized and altered to
properly fit each wearer and his had been no exception. She had taught him the
basics of how to operate it and conducted tutorials before she was satisfied
that he understood how to work the aegis.

She stayed behind on the ship after the armor was deposited in the
armory. The rest of the people that helped carry the pieces left the ship
without saying a word. When they were alone, she looked at Burke and grinned.

“Your armor is worth more than your ship, you know,” she said. “You
should do something about that.”

“I’m working on it,” he admitted.

She moved close to embrace him and was taken aback when he stepped
away from her. He held his hand out and she looked confused as they shook hands
instead.

“I was going to say I’m glad you’re not dead,” Natalie said. “But
maybe that’s not entirely true. You’re different.”

“Like I said, I’m working on it,” he replied with a small smile.

“You could have sent a message before now. You didn’t have to wait
until Havard contacted you. Did you forget how to send a message here?”

“No. I needed to be alone for a while.” Silence hung in the air
between them before he added: “I still do.”

Natalie’s face went cross with anger and Burke felt it like it was a
blow to the stomach. The expression on her face soon turned to something that
hurt him far more: concern. The tension in her forehead softened and her mouth
eased from its frown.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “But after what happened to you,
maybe you’re the only one who can. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

She was being more understanding and fair than Burke thought he
deserved. He wanted to undock the ship and fly away. He turned to his armor and
saw that it looked significantly different than when they arrived. They had
done more than repair it and he grasped at it to change the subject.

“What did you do?” he asked, harsher than he intended.

“What?” she replied. “Oh. We’ve developed some new features since
you were last here. I took the time to incorporate what I could into your armor
while making the repairs. I added them for free, so don’t tell Havard.”

She smiled at him like the awkwardness of the last conversation
never existed. He walked to the armor and circled it once. The structure of it
looked the same but the colors had been stripped away to white and black. He
guessed it was a result of the reparation process and old coloring had been
worn away. The helmet was the biggest change: it had been entirely replaced,
not restored. He knew the damage it had sustained was bad but he had no idea
the extent of it had been so drastic. He held it in his hands and rotated it to
check every part. It was heavier than the previous one, and the faceplate
looked to be sturdier to offer more protection to his head. He was surprised
that he liked the new design better than the old one.

“Thank you,” he said when he turned to her.

“Don’t thank me yet. We didn’t get all of the pieces, so I’m not
finished. Whoever came to get the armor forgot one of the leg plates. I should
be able to fix it tonight, but I’ll need to find it.”

He kneeled down without saying anything and gripped the right leg of
his pants. He pulled it up and showed her the prosthetic. Once again, her look
of concern was overwhelming. He stood up straight and looked back at her.