The Glorious Becoming (49 page)

“Should we look for the survivors’ heat signatures in the swamp?” asked Marusich.

Oleg shook his head. “That is what they would have been doing.” He indicated at the Vultures. “They are patrolling, looking for anything. If heat signatures would be working, the survivors would already be apprehended. The rain is interfering with thermal imaging.”

“Then they will have men on the ground.”

“Yes,” Oleg nodded. He looked at his executive officer. “And so will we.”

A slanted grin curved at the corner of Marusich’s lips. Turning to the other Nightmen, he said, “Prepare yourselves, slayers! We drop.” The bridge came to life, as the multitude of slayers readied their weapons. Krylov shouldered his sniper rifle as the metal plate of his helmet slid over his face. Marusich looked at Svetlana. “You are coming, Voronova.”

She glanced at Marusich before looking down at Tauthin. The Bakma’s focus was squarely ahead. Everything else was ignored. Inhaling deeply, Svetlana left him to join the away team.

“Give me your helmet,” said Oleg emotionlessly as Svetlana passed him.

She looked at him strangely. “What?”

“It is trackable. They will be searching for any sign of EDEN survivors. We don’t need them coming after you.”

Svetlana stared at the helmet attached to her side. Eyes narrowing, she removed it and gave it to Oleg. Opening a panel at the helmet’s rear, he deactivated its tracker. He gave it back to her. “You remember how to use a pistol, right?”

She yanked her hair into a short ponytail then put her helmet on, unholstering her sidearm and cocking it loudly. Her glare lingered on Oleg before she turned for Marusich.

Tauthin spoke on as the Noboat descended.

“He says in order for soldiers to leave the craft, it must materialize on the ground. This can be done after the door has opened, but before any soldiers can step out.”

“Kiish-ni glaashv`ga ton rekkan. Plaash-na-vin.”

“It will take five to ten seconds before the ship can dematerialize again. It will be detectable during this time.”

“I understand,” said Oleg. “Bring us down three kilometers east of the lake.”

Past the bridge by the antechamber, Svetlana and the First’s away team prepared for touchdown. The medic’s sidearm was firmly in her hands, pointed at the floor.

Beneath the mechanizations of his helmet amplifier, Marusich chuckled. “You look cute. Very fearsome.”

“There is something you are not thinking about,” she said, eyes ahead despite his presence behind her. She tightened her grip on her pistol. “One should never make enemies with the medic.”

Readjusting his shoulders, Marusich looked ahead at the door.

Things outside cracked and snapped—tree limbs being broken. They were on their way down.

Svetlana closed her eyes, inhaling a deep, focused breath.

Crunch!

They were down.

Oleg’s voice emerged over Marusich’s comm. “No one step out until the ship has materialized. He says anyone who exits prematurely will die.”

Ahead of the away team, the antechamber ramp door lowered down. The outside world came into view. The rain was torrential. Droplets hammered the already standing swamp water. Despite the fact that it was daybreak, everything was dark.

A loud electric crackle emanated from the Noboat, as it flashed back into visible existence. The interior lights returned from dark blue to white. “Go!” shouted Marusich. “Everyone out, now!” The Nightmen wasted no time as they dashed out of the ship into the swamp. There were a dozen in the away team.

As soon as Svetlana was under the rain, she winced in discomfort. Unlike Nightman armor, EDEN armor was not fully-contained. Though the cold rainwater never made it onto her uniform, the blast to her neck was more than miserable enough. It took her several seconds to fully get used to it. The Nightmen around her spread out in several groups until a stretched human wall of sorts had been created. “We are dematerializing,” said Oleg through the comm. “Communication will be lost. We will be following you.”

The Noboat arced with an array of blue bolts. After another loud crackle, the ship disappeared. Its impression was plainly visible on the ground.

“T
UUSH NEVAA DON`REECE
,” said Tauthin from his seat.

“He says the EDEN vessels shifted when we materialized,” said Petrov.

Oleg leaned forward. “Move us—
now
.”

O
UTSIDE, THE AWAY
team watched as the indentation in the water lifted away. The Noboat was leaving.

“All Nightmen,” said Marusich, “move west, quickly!”

The operatives of the First darted from their positions around the trees and headed in a westerly direction, past the place where the Noboat had landed and in the direction that would ultimately take them to Lake Drummond. Svetlana followed them. Water bombarded the medic’s visor, hindering her ability to see beyond the veil of rainfall. Her TCVs were on, but even their effectiveness was limited. Beyond ten meters, almost nothing could be made out.

“Keep moving,” said Marusich. “EDEN will be passing over this area soon.” Barely five seconds later, the sound of low-flying aircraft reverberated over the storm.
“Cover!”

Nightmen dove in all directions—some into brush and some under the water. In their black armor, they blended in seamlessly with the darkness of the swamp. Except for Svetlana. The blonde was searching frantically for a place to hide, finally sliding behind a tree trunk and pressing her back against it as hard as she could.

A white spotlight illuminated the ground. It was a Vulture, hot on the trail of the Noboat that had appeared on everyone’s radar. The ship slowly passed over the trees, its massive light swaying from one direction to the next, occasionally passing over a Nightman but unable to distinguish any of them from the dark terrain.

“Nobody move,” said Marusich through the comm.

Closing her eyes, Svetlana pressed against the tree harder. The Vulture was still above them.

Suddenly, there was a crackle in the sky. Svetlana and the Nightmen looked up to see the Noboat materialize behind the Vulture. Plasma fire soared in the transport’s way.

The Vulture never stood a chance. Its desperate attempts to avoid the attacks were useless, as several blasts struck the tail of the ship. Orange plumes exploded.

“Move!” Marusich shouted. “Everyone move!”

As the Noboat disappeared again, the operatives in the swamp darted from their cover, running full speed in the opposite direction of the plummeting Vulture. Trees could be heard snapping in half as the ship slammed into the ground.

Huffing as she trudged through the mire, Svetlana asked, “Why would they do that?”

“Instead of hiding,” answered Marusich, “he is coming into the open! He is showing them that he is here, that it is dangerous to stay!” The fulcrum was already breathing heavily. “I believe he wants them to hold off their search!”

“That Vulture was full of innocent soldiers!”

Marusich growled. “For all we know, they helped shoot down the American unit in the first place.” After several seconds, he dropped to a knee.

Bending over forward, Svetlana propped her hands on her knees, catching her breath. She tucked the wet tips of her ponytail back under her helmet.

“The survivors should be west of us, if they were at the lake before. If one of them truly has a leg injury, they will not have come this far. We should be on an intercept course.” The fulcrum looked at Svetlana. “You must lead. You must be visible, to lure them to you.”

Svetlana listened closely.

“If they see us coming first, they will not abandon their cover. But for you, they may reveal themselves.”

“What if they think I am here to kill them? How can they tell the difference between me and someone from the Vultures? I look like anyone!”

Marusich answered, “Remove your armor.”

“What?”

“That is how they will tell the difference. You will obviously not be here to hunt them.”

She shook her head. “What if they have weapons? They will shoot me on sight!”

“No, they will not. A defenseless woman in the swamp is not a threat. They will be curious and come to you.” He motioned to Krylov. “Krylov will shadow you from behind. He will kill anyone who puts you at risk.”

“I am
bait
to you,” Svetlana spat.

The fulcrum remained calm. “Then you tell me. What would make better sense?” Several seconds passed; she offered no answer. “Then proceed. We will support you.”

Glaring at Marusich, Svetlana unfastened her chest plate. Piece by piece, she removed the EDEN armor. Her helmet was the last part to go. Closing her eyes in the downpour, she stretched her neck and wiped back her hair.

“Doronin,” Marusich said, “carry her armor. We cannot leave it behind.”

Arms on her hips, Svetlana waited for her armor to be collected. She handed the man named Doronin her gun. “I have no comm!” she shouted at Marusich.

“You will not need one!” He motioned forward with his rifle. “Go!”

Cursing under her breath, Svetlana turned to the west. She trudged on armorless through the mire.

O
VERHEAD, THE NOBOAT
hovered above the Nightman away team. Even with the low visibility, they were close enough to the ground to make out Svetlana moving forward. There were no longer any Vultures in the vicinity, though a squadron of Vindicators had begun circling the area from high above over the new crash site.

His bulging eyes narrowing at the view screen, Tauthin addressed Oleg. “Vacha`shnna du Setana zoch-taar?”

“He wants to know why the woman is alone,” said Petrov.

Oleg answered, “Tell him to shut up and watch the sky.”

S
VETLANA’S BODY
shivered. The temperature was already cold—the drenching downpour made it worse. Dodging her way through sticks and shrubs, she waded through at times waist-high swamp water. Though deep spots could have been anywhere, she was yet to succumb to one. Maintaining a course as straight as possible, the medic kept on.

All of a sudden, the rain above her stopped falling. Looking down and around at the water beneath her, she saw a distinct absence of droplets hitting the surface. Slicking back her hair with both hands, she squinted skyward. There was nothing visible blocking the downpour. In that moment, she realized what it was. “Thank you, Tauthin,” she said quietly to herself. Looking ahead through dripping lashes, she wiped her face and moved again.

The Great Dismal Swamp was living up to its name. Barren trees with little to no leaf cover jetted up from the ground, their roots spread out like tentacles, often completely disappearing under the surface of the mire. An earthy, slough-like stench wafted through the air, despite the hypothetically cleansing rain. There were no signs of life anywhere.

Though Svetlana’s first ten minutes of walking seemed to drag on forever, the minutes that followed consistently went faster. Dry from the waist-up from the shelter of the Noboat, she trudged ahead through the waters of the swamp. Occasionally she glanced behind her for a sign of the First, but there were none. She could only trust they had her back.

Snap!

It was as loud a sound as one could have heard amid the fury of a thunderstorm. Svetlana went rigid. Eyes searching ahead, the blonde inherently reached for her sidearm, only to realize that she had none. She muttered in disgust.

The patch of swamp she was in was indistinguishable from the patches whence she’d come. She was standing in shin-high water, surrounded by muddy islands and stark gray trees. Nothing stood out visibly.

“Who’s there?” she asked.

Nothing answered. Resisting the urge to look behind her and give away the First’s cover, she took another step forward.

Snap!

The snapping was louder and more distinct. Freezing in place, Svetlana pinpointed its origin. It was coming from ahead and to her right. The environment was far too wet for branches to snap like that without heavy pressure being applied. There was no doubt in her mind that something alive was causing it.

“I hear you!” she called out, hesitating again. “Please come out. I am not here to hurt you!”

Suddenly, she heard something. It was stifled, yet audible just the same. Whimpering. Female whimpering, coming from the same direction as the snapping. Her heart rate increased.

Chernobyl. This exact same thing had happened in Chernobyl, except the whimpering in that case had been from a necrilid. Just the same, she was once again being lured. Very slowly, Svetlana took a step back. “I am not coming closer!”

Nothing moved.

Svetlana’s body tensed as raindrops drenched her again. The Noboat—her umbrella of protection from the weather—was drifting somewhere else. Maybe Tauthin or Oleg saw something she didn’t. Swallowing, she held up her hands and addressed her unseen adversary. “I am no fool—I will not come closer!”

From just beyond a large tree ahead of her, a male figure stepped out. He emerged so quickly, Svetlana actually flinched back. With what appeared to be a rifle raised against his shoulder, he said through gritted teeth, “Just hold it right there.”

Svetlana’s hands slowly raised. “I am not with the ones who shot you down.”

“Bull.”

“My name is Svetlana Voronova. I am from
Novosibirsk
.” Squinting through water drops, she focused on his rifle. It wasn’t a rifle at all. It was a conveniently-shaped branch. Slowly, the blonde shook her head. “That is not a gun.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Yes. I will bet. Shoot a round to prove it.”

The man remained still. “I bet you’d like that. For me to waste my ammo. Nice try.”

“Tiffany told me where to find you,” Svetlana said.

At mention of the pilot’s name, the man lowered his “gun.” With his attention garnered, Svetlana wasted no time in continuing.

“Her ship came to us on autopilot,” she said. “I am from a unit called the Fourteenth. The ship she was aboard, it was stolen from us several months ago.”

The man’s posture tensed. “Stolen? By who?”

“By EDEN.”

“Like hell.”

She grew sterner. “Your name is Lilan, isn’t it?” He didn’t respond. “You had a soldier named Remington, correct?” That got a reaction. Even from a distance, even with torrential rain falling between them, the change in his expression was obvious and clear. “Scott Remington is a part of my unit,” she went on. “You sent him to
Novosibirsk
, yes? He came to us. David Jurgen, Becan McCrae, Jayden Timmons. They are all part of the Fourteenth.”