The Glorious Becoming (67 page)

Behind David and Becan, another voice emerged. “Wait!” It was Varvara. The young blonde rushed to the bay door and stopped, settling her eyes on Dostoevsky.

“We do not have time for this, Varya,” the fulcrum said.

The medic touched her medical kit. “Sveta may be hurt.”

Several moments passed without answer. Then Dostoevsky nodded. “Come.” It took no second command. Varvara abandoned the
Pariah
for Dostoevsky’s side. “Jurgen, I leave command to you. Now
go
.”

“Yes sir,” David answered. Turning, he called out to Travis. “Get us off the ground!”

Travis closed the door and put his hand on the stick. “Gladly.”

The transport’s thrusters kicked in; the feral dog rose.

D
EEP IN THE
underground hangar, the Nightman technicians were prepping the captured Noboat for flight. The word had come from General Thoor: the Nightman command staff was evacuating. The Terror was en route.

M
ARCHING SIDE-BY-SIDE
through the corridors of
Novosibirsk
, yet another group was making their way to the hangar. Hands clasped behind their backs subserviently, six Bakma, a blinder-clad canrassi, and an Ithini shuffled down the halls before the might of an armed Nightman sentry.

Other Nightmen bustled past them down the hallway in what seemed to be a standard prisoner evacuation. The passing Nightmen never even gave them a second glance. But if they had, they might have noticed that none of the Bakma’s cuffs were actually latched—or that the sentry’s suit didn’t quite seem to fit. Beneath his black, armored guise, Tauthin led his comrades forward, his connection to Ed relaying directions to the Bakma at the front of the line. He had no reason to pay attention to any of the other Nightmen bustling past him in the hall. His focus was steadfast. Escape, in the form of a Noboat, would soon be theirs.

Then he saw Svetlana.

The fulcrum carrying her overtook Tauthin from behind, his pace quicker and more urgent than the disguised Bakma. Svetlana was slung over the fulcrum’s back, her face bloodied and eyes swollen—her hair a tussled mess. She’d been beaten. A moment of realization came over Tauthin, before the Bakma’s own pace quickened. He caught up with the fulcrum from behind, leaving his fellow aliens staring at him bewilderedly. Reaching his hand out, Tauthin touched the fulcrum on the shoulder. The fulcrum stopped, turning abruptly. “What—”

Clang!

Tauthin head-butted Oleg in the face. The fulcrum stumbled backward; the woman fell from his shoulders. Clasping his armored fists together, Tauthin slammed them straight down atop Oleg’s head, then straight up, then across. Oleg spun, hit the wall, then slid to the floor. Tauthin looked at the unconscious blonde. “Setana...”

Nagogg, the lipless rider, rasped from the line of prisoners. “We have no use for a female!”

Growling silently, his alien vocal chords mechanized by his sentry helmet, Tauthin looked down and away. After a moment of silence, he looked at Svetlana again. Bending down, he scooped her in his arms.

“For what purpose are we taking her?” Nagogg asked. “Leave her here to die!”

“I will not leave her in the arms of one who wishes her ill,” Tauthin answered. “The female comes.” Silently from the line, Wuteel indicated agreement. “Onward!” Tauthin barked. With Svetlana in his arms, he motioned the captives forward.

31

FRIDAY, MARCH 16
^TH
, 0012 NE

CAIRO

W
AR WAS ERUPTING
in Heaven. With Esther clinging to his back, Centurion—clad from head to toe in Ceratopian heavy armor—burst through EDEN’s defensive like a battering ram. With every zap of neon red, another human was flung against the wall with tornadic velocity. And with every human that was lost, EDEN was pushed farther and farther back.

Release me, human!

Ju`bajai’s words battered Esther’s mind. She dropped from Centurion’s back briefly, just long enough to grab a fresh pistol from a dead guard on the ground. She leapt back to the Ceratopian’s cover.

Release me!

“I heard you the first time!” She jumped on the comm. “Scott, listen to me. Even if we get out of Confinement, once we hit the halls of
Cairo,
we’re not going to stand a chance. Security will be converging on us from every corner.”

“I’m listening,” Scott answered.

The scout gunned down a guard. “Desperate times call for desperate measures. You’d agree, right?”

“I’m still listening.”

“We need to give
Cairo
something else to deal with—something bigger than a few spies from
Novosibirsk
. Something that can’t be cleaned up with just a few well-placed bullets.” She hesitated. “I want Boris to release
all
the prisoners.”

Scott’s reaction was telling. “Whoa.”

“Release them all, and force
Cairo
to deal with something bigger than us. Make them muster here, not on the airstrip. Scott, it’s our only chance.”

“Boris, can you do that?” Scott asked.

B
ORIS HAD JUST
reached the surface when Scott’s question crackled through. The sopping technician was inputting commands on the run. “Yes, captain.” His fingers were tapping furiously as he ran to the hangar. “This will be stuff of legend!”

“Do it,” Scott said without hesitation. “Esther, that jailbreak’s about to be yours. Use it.”

B
ULLETS RICOCHETED
off Centurion’s armor. The massive warrior roared and returned fire. Then, it happened. All around them, in every hall in every corner of Confinement, the doors to the prisoners’ cells slid open. Above the pulses of projectile and neutron came a sound unlike anything else in Heaven. It was a sound that resonated from the halls—a murmur that quickly grew into loud chatter, then into blatant shouting. The prisoners were realizing they were freed. The next thing Esther, Centurion, and the EDEN guards saw were extraterrestrials of every make and model bolting from their cells.

As the guards’ focus shifted, Esther pointed over Centurion’s shoulder toward the tram. “That way!” She returned to her comm. “All right, Boris, now get the tram ready. It’s about to have some customers.”

S
COTT WAS PREPPING
the ship when Boris made his entry. Scooting past Scott, Boris dashed for the pilot’s seat. “What’s the plan, Boris?” Scott asked.

Boris’s hands flew around the cockpit as systems came on. “Orders, orders, everywhere. I need a clone of myself!”

“What’s the vecking plan?”

“Autopilot!” answered Boris desperately. “I am programming the autopilot to fly us away.”

As long as it worked. “Where the hell’s Jayden?”

At that moment, the wail of
Cairo
’s base-wide sirens reverberated across the airstrip. Staring at Boris from behind, Scott readied a weapon and aimed out the rear door.

W
ITH EDEN’S GUARDS
distracted by the sudden release of Heaven’s captives, Esther and Centurion made their break for the tram station, the massive Ceratopian incapacitating the few guards who tried to flee with them. Readying her pistol, Esther waited for the tram to arrive. She turned back to the central laboratory. “Boris, ETA.” He didn’t answer. “Veck!”

In the midst of the chaos of the lab, Ju`bajai emerged. The gaunt female alien was running straight for Esther and Centurion. “Glad you could make it,” said Esther dryly. As tram lights appeared from the long tunnel behind her, Esther motioned for her cohorts to move away. The tram hissed to a stop. As soon as they boarded, she was on the comm again. “Auric, where are you?”

“I
AM COMING
!” the German answered. Assault rifle at the ready, the slayer in EDEN clothing ran full speed for Esther’s comm signal. “How do I get to you?”

“Head to Junction Hall B!”

Sliding to a stop on the wet floor, Auric dashed down a side hallway. “On my way.”

B
ORIS WAS WORKING
furiously on the controls of the transport, programming its autopilot as Scott held defensive position at the rear bay door, despite the fact that no one was moving in on them yet.

The transport’s thrusters rumbled to life. Its main systems began their warm-up procedures as the familiar whine of V1 engines grew in intensity.

“All right,” the Russian technician said, searching the control panel for something to press. “Stop their takeoffs. I must stop their takeoffs.”

Right then, a voice cut in through the transport’s comm system. “Vulture 21-79 Alpha, we have detected a system power-up. What is your reason for this, over?”

Boris went rigid. He stared in horror at the ship’s comm. Hands trembling, he clicked the channel open. “Hello.”

“Vulture 21-79 Alpha, I repeat, we have detected a system power-up. What is your reason for this, over?”

Fumbling awkwardly, he clicked the transmit button again. “Doing routine engine maintenance. Please ignore.”

“Routine maintenance? We have a tech staff for that.”

“Okay, good bye,” said Boris into the ship’s comm. Closing the comm channel, he propped his technician’s kit up on the co-pilot’s chair and hacked back into
Cairo
. His kit’s display was a constant assault of system screens and override functions. With each tap of his finger, new command windows opened and closed from one end of the screen to the next. “Hey,” he said surprisingly, “I found the sprinklers again!” He pressed the command. “And, off.”

From inside the rear bay door, Scott looked up as the hangar’s massive soaker system kicked on. A cascade of fat water drops bombarded the concrete. He looked back at Boris.

“Okay,” Boris said frustratingly, “I do not like these sprinklers.”

A
S THE TRAM
roared toward the central hub, Esther reloaded her pistol and turned to Centurion. “Are you okay?” Grunting boldly, the Ceratopian aimed his neutron rifle at the tram door. Esther went to her comm. “Boris, I don’t care how you do it, but I need you to route this tram away from the EDEN rally points. If we have to fight, we’re going to lose.” No answer. “Boris, are you
bloody
listening to me?”

“I am listening, I am listening!” The technician sounded panicked. “There is too much to do!”

“Too much for most people, but not for you. Now route us out of here.” Her black maxi dress saturated, she waited for his reply. The scout swallowed anxiously.

“Okay,” said Boris. “I think I have a route.”

She lifted her chin, closed her eyes, and sighed in total relief. “Boris Evteev, you are my hero.” The tram rolled past the EDEN hub full of guards. It continued on down the line. “Auric, where are you?”

“I
AM ALMOST
—” The German’s words were cut off as he slid to a halt in the middle of the corridor. Bursting into the intersection ahead of him, and looking directly his way, was Logan. “Marshall is here,” he uttered to Esther.

Logan cracked his neck to the side preparedly, then marched in Auric’s way. Raising his handgun, the lieutenant fired without asking questions. Auric ducked behind a corner as the bullets whizzed past him, one grazing his right arm. Growling, the German readied his handgun.

“Where’re you goin’, mate?” asked Logan from further around the corner. “Looking for Brooking?”

Auric was positioned just close enough to the corner to make out Logan’s position by easing his head around it. Very slowly, the Australian lieutenant stalked toward him. “Do not make a mistake, Marshall.”

Drawing a breath, Logan said, “I won’t.” Both men rounded the corners at the same time, weapons drawing and firing as they simultaneously dove to avoid the volleys. Charging headlong at Auric, Logan crashed into his chest, sending the German sliding backward across the wet floor before Auric writhed and pushed Logan off him.

Logan was the first to reaffirm his footing, and consequently, the first to go on the offensive. Fists raised like a boxer, Logan hammered Auric in the face and chest with a blazing series of jabs, followed by a haymaker that spun Auric completely around before toppling him backward.

Rolling over, Auric groaned against the wet floor. He’d only managed to push up halfway before he felt the cold barrel of a pistol against the back of his neck. The German froze.

“Call Brooking,” Logan said. Water from the sprinklers tattered the Australian’s armor. He stood statuesque nonetheless. “Call. Brooking.” Growling lowly, Auric tensed his shoulders. He said nothing. Logan pressed the pistol harder. “Call her, or I will.”

Eyes steeling downward, Auric bit his lip hard. Shaking the water drops gently from his brow, he eased his chin down. “I need to use my comm.”

Logan’s pistol never moved. “Use it, slowly.”

Hesitating, the German slayer slid his hand cautiously down to his belt, where he unlatched his comm. He moved it up to his lips, then pressed the button. “Captain, I am captured,” he spouted out quickly.

That was all he had time to say. Cocking his hand up, Logan smashed the butt of his pistol against the back of Auric’s head. The German collapsed, limp. “Bloody hell,” the Australian seethed. Looking at Auric’s comm display, he growled then queued up Natalie. “Broll’s in custody. He just commed Remington; he addressed him as
captain
.”

“Copy that, Lo,” Natalie answered. “I’m heading to Remington now. Secure Broll then go get Brooking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

T
HE MOMENT
S
COTT
heard Auric’s transmission, the pit of his stomach turned. Auric was captured. That meant Esther was alone.

As if on cue, Esther’s panicked voice crackled through. “Boris, the tram just stopped! It’s reversing!”

In the pilot’s seat of the transport, hands flying between the Vulture and his kit, Boris cursed. “I have lost control!”

“Lost control of the
tram
?”

Abandoning the Vulture controls, Boris stuttered through sweat drops. “Lost control of everything!”

G
RABBING HOLD OF
the support rail, Esther watched as the tram sped backward down the track, back in the direction of the guard-filled hub. Her brown eyes widened with terror. “Veck! Get control back, Boris!”