The Glorious Becoming (68 page)

“Esther, Auric’s gone,” Scott cut in. “He’s been captured.”

The scout’s voice was shaking. “Scott, I’m not getting out of this one. I’m sorry.”

“Can you stop the tram yourself?”

“I—I...” Pushing her hair back, the scout’s eyes brimmed with horror.

Roaring mightily, Centurion threw his neutron rifle down and strode toward the “new” front of the tram. Lunging forward with his gargantuan claws, he crashed his fists through the forward glass. Behind him, Esther and Ju`bajai shielded their eyes as glass shards and wind whipped through the transport. Very slightly, the tram’s velocity slowed.

Hair whipping around furiously, Esther watched as the giant Ceratopian reclaimed his neutron rifle. He aimed it through the now-open forward window. Looking back at Esther, Centurion transmitted the word,
Cover
.

“Like hell, beast!” she screamed. Readying her pistol, she rushed to his side against the flurry of air. Eyes squinting, she watched as the tram neared its final turn before the hub. She looked back at Ju`bajai. “Are you in any way useful?”

The Ithini closed her eyes.

Esther looked back ahead. “So sodding typical.”

S
COTT WAS IN
a panic. He had no armor. No backup. No anything. Looking outside, he saw Jayden running full sprint toward the transport. “About vecking time, Jay!”

“I heard Auric say he’s captured!” The Texan yelled. “Where’s Esther?”

“You didn’t hear her?”

Alarmed, Jayden bolted up the ramp. “She cut me off her channel!”

“Boris lost the trams. She’s stuck in Confinement.”

The Texan’s jaw dropped. “
What
? We gotta go get ’er!”

“Yeah, Jay, I know.” Scott spun back to Boris. “Any luck with the trams?”

The technician shook his head, hands working frantically. “It is gone, captain. All control is gone.”

“Well get it back, Trooper.” Turning back to Jayden, Scott shouldered his assault rifle. “How many shots you got in that rifle?”

“Man,” said Jayden, voice trembling but sniper rifle ready, “how are we gonna do this?”

Scott could only shake his head. “I don’t know.”

“I shouldn’t’a listened to her, man. I shouldn’t’a came back.”

Rushing down the ramp, Scott said, “We’re gonna get her, man. Let’s go.”

A woman’s voice cut him off. “Not so fast.”

Halting abruptly at the bottom of the ramp, Scott looked toward the voice. As soon as he saw who it belonged to, the last ounce of hope he was clinging to vanished. It was Natalie. The sopping wet Caracals captain was flanked by a half-dozen guards—and all of their weapons were raised.

“Hands on your head,
Captain
Remington,” she seethed through the dripping lashes of a glare.

Scott and Jayden complied, both men stepping back to maintain distance. “Natalie, listen—”

“Oh, I’m listening,” she said.

“We gotta get Esther, man,” Jayden whispered frantically to Scott.

Natalie and the guards steadily drew closer. “Listen, I need you to trust me,” Scott said, “this was never supposed to happen.”

“
Trust
you?” she asked murderously. “How dare you ask me to trust you. Take them in, guards.”

“No!” Scott held his hands out. “Please, you have to listen.”

The conversation was halted by the screeching of tires. The whole party—Scott and Natalie included—flinched back and turned their heads. Skidding around the corner, pieces of a barbed-wire perimeter fence stuck to its bumper, was a full-sized black van. The moment it beaded their way, a figure leaned out of the passenger window and opened fire at the EDEN-clad guards.

“Drop down! Drop down!” Scott hollered, tugging Jayden with him as they took to the concrete. Natalie, clad only in her long-sleeved shirt and fatigues, followed suit. As the EDEN guards returned fire, the van skidded sideways next to Scott. The van’s covered side door opened, as four slayers leapt out.

One of them—a fulcrum—removed his helmet and addressed Scott. “This way, captain!”

This was their backup. The Nightmen in Cairo they were supposed to call in for the extraction. How did they know to come now? Who had commed them? It didn’t matter. Scrambling to his feet, Scott bolted for the cover of the van. Jayden followed behind. In the open space of the hangar, the EDEN guards dashed for cover. Natalie was still pinned on the ground.

The moment Scott was behind the van, the dark-complexioned fulcrum spoke over the gunfire of his slayers. “I am Rashid Faraj, captain.” His Turkish accent was thick; he seemed older than most Nightmen. “We have been dispatched for your extraction. Do you need your armor?”

“My armor?” Scott followed Rashid’s gesture toward the van. Inside, sitting in a pile by the sliding door, was Scott’s black and gold fulcrum armor. “Yes!” It was both affirmation and exclamation. Bolting for the van, Scott began throwing on his suit. “How did you know to come for us?”

Rashid shouted over the tatter of assault rifles. “We received an alert from Antipov ordering your immediate extraction.”

Antipov? How in the world did
he
even know? The slip of paper with the slayers’ frequency was ruined by the sprinklers.

“I present to you five slayers and a pilot, all veterans from The Machine. I was instructed to—”

Scott cut him off. Pointing to one of the nameless slayers, he shouted, “The woman lying in the hangar. Get her over here!” Natalie was pinned and unprotected in the middle of a crossfire. Someone needed to bring her to cover, even if it was a Nightman. This wasn’t her fault. “Take a bullet if you have to.”

As one of the slayers did as ordered, Rashid continued. “I was instructed to lord over these slayers until their delivery to you. I transfer that authority to you now. We are under your command.”

Now that’s what I’m talking about!
Clamping on his chest plate, Scott strapped on his arm guards. “The Ceratopian target is inside with one of my operatives.” Technically with two, but Auric was secondary to the mission objective—Auric would agree. “I want three men in that transport and four with me.”

Rashid nodded. “If it suits you, I will remain to oversee the safety of the transport.”

“It suits me.” Scott slammed on his fulcrum helmet. The world reassumed its familiar battle hue. Adrenaline pulsed in his veins.

As Rashid addressed the slayers, Scott watched as Natalie was pushed behind cover by one of them. Soaked and shocked, she whipped her head from Nightman to Nightman.

Jetting past his shoulders in menacing spikes, Scott’s golden collar gleamed against the black of his fulcrum’s armor. He motioned to the slayer who’d escorted Natalie. “Don’t let her run off.” He wasn’t about to let her get shot over this. She needed to stay behind cover until it was time for them to leave.

At the recognition of Scott’s voice through its mechanizations, Natalie faced him. When she saw his golden horns, her mouth fell in distress.

Rashid addressed him again. “Captain, the four slayers are ready to assist you.”

Names were useless. Scrutinizing the four slayers that had withdrawn, Scott pointed to identify each. “One, Two, Three, Four. Remember that.” They acknowledged. “The rest of you, cover us. We’re heading into
Cairo
!”

“I’m comin’!” Jayden said.

Scott shook his head. “No, Jay. I need you here.”

The Texan’s gaze was determined. “That’s my girlfriend, man.”

For a moment, Scott fell quiet. Esther.
It doesn’t matter that she’s new for you, does it? You already think of her as yours.
How could he, of all people, deny Jayden that? “Don’t get shot, Jay. We have armor and you don’t.”

“I won’t, man. Let’s go.”

Nodding, Scott adjusted his comm. “Esther, the cavalry’s here. We’re coming to get you.”

“N
ICE TO HEAR
,” the scout answered. With her sidearm aimed out of the front of the ever-slowing tram, Esther prepared to meet the EDEN stronghold. Hulking beside her and taking up most of the tram space, Centurion crouched with his neutron rifle ready.

Suddenly, Esther’s vision flashed as if there was lightning in her eyelids. The scout’s brown eyes widened as her entire field of perception changed. She was in the middle of a cluster of EDEN guards in the tram hub. The one directly in front of her held up his hand and looked back at her.

“Stay spread out!” he shouted. “Avoid the Ceratopian’s neutron fire. Aim for his neckline!”

“Yes sir!”

Behind Esther, another man spoke. She found herself turning to look at him. “Strike Team Zeta has isolated Heaven Hub One, commander. Command is lowering the blast shields in the species wings.”

Esther’s gaze swung forward to the commander. “Let the Ceratopian fire first,” he said. “Then counter with the heavy weapons. Once he’s down, converge on the human target.”

Another flash occurred—Esther’s gaze returned to her own. There was a momentary swell of nausea, but it quickly subsided. Blinking, she looked back at Ju`bajai. The Ithini’s eyes were focused.

Realization striking, Esther spun to address Centurion. “Lower your chin! Protect your neck. Fall back as soon as you fire.” Grunting, Centurion nodded once. Pistol aimed forward, Esther spoke to Ju`bajai. “Nice work, girl. There’s hope for you yet.”

M
EANWHILE, SCOTT
, Jayden, and the numerically-defined slayers—One, Two, Three, and Four—were making a gun-blazing charge into the garage, where the elevators awaited to take them into the Anthill. Behind his faceless helmet, Scott scrutinized the battlefield with a vigor he hadn’t felt since Chernobyl. Like their charge of a necrilid nest, Esther’s rescue was storming a lion’s den. But there was a distinct and terrible difference between then and now:
this
enemy wasn’t a nest of necrilids.

With every shot Scott and his cohorts were about to fire, other human beings would be in the crosshairs. These weren’t nameless Bakmas or soulless canrassis. They were David Jurgens. Becan McCraes. Svetlana Voronovas. They were his own. Sliding into the garage elevator, Scott punched the
down
button as soon as the last slayer was inside.

How can I do this?
In the momentary lull of the descent, the thoughts surged through Scott’s head.
How can I kill men and women who are doing their jobs? These aren’t enemies in my sights. The enemy is us.

In the flurry of weapon reloading and armor-checking, there was no time to try and fill the shoes of God. Scott had never asked to be placed in this predicament. All he could do was react—and in the seconds before the elevator hit bottom, pray.

Guide my weapon. Direct my senses. Forgive me if I kill any of Yours.

On numerous levels, it was the worst prayer he’d ever prayed. But just like that, the elevator door opened. “Three, Four, cover the rear. One, Two, shadow and suppress. Jayden, linger behind and crack shot.” Jayden and the slayers affirmed. Rifles raised, they charged from the elevator. Saturated scientists, staffers, and various civilian contractors screamed and dove for cover. Then came the guards. As the bystanders ducked, EDEN’s defense forces met Scott and the Nightmen. Bullets ricocheted off Scott’s armor as he slid behind a post. Keeping formation was impossible, as the “Numbers,” as Scott had dubbed the slayers, split apart behind him. It was a frenzy; instinct kicked in. He fired. A guard fell. He ducked and fired again. Another guard down. The Numbers were equally superior.
Cairo
’s security forces were dropping like flies.

“Boris, status report!” he yelled over the gunfire. All around, wet chips of ivory and plaster peppered the columns. The sprinklers were still in full-blast above them. Everything was soaked.

The technician crackled through. “Still working, captain!”

“Work
faster
! Esther, come in.”

T
HE TRAM’S BRAKES
kicked in; the hub came into view. As Esther’s sights came upon the dozen or so EDEN guards, she pulled the trigger, pegging the first guard she saw square in his visor. Blood erupted as he toppled backward. In the next instant, Centurion fired.

Esther didn’t even wait to see if his shot connected. “Back, back, back!” the scout yelled, diving away from the tram’s front. Centurion followed, his lumbering gait taking him across the tram in three steps. Behind them, the heavy weapons hit. The front of the tram was torn apart in a fiery array of .50 caliber machinegun ammo and explosive weaponry.

Lowering his shoulder, Centurion maintained his momentum, ramming head-first into the back of the tram. Esther and Ju`bajai watched as the whole foundation of the tram trembled. The Ceratopian’s mind surged with a command.

Distance!

No second word from Centurion was necessary. The two females dashed for side cover in the tram as Centurion stepped back, aimed his neutron rifle, and fired a series of neon rays into the rear of the tram. The vessel was rocked, lurching clean off its track. Then, in the final blast, the entire rear wall burst. Clearing the debris with solid charge, Centurion emerged outside of the tram, on the track itself.

Esther and Ju`bajai were already behind him. Scrambling out of the tram, they emerged in the Ceratopian’s wake. EDEN guards were still firing at their rear, but with an inflamed tram sitting dislodged between them and their targets, no straight shots were visible, let alone clean. Anyone who followed them would have to climb through the rubble.

His back to Esther and Ju`bajai, Centurion dropped to a knee.
Mount,
he transmitted. The two females grabbed hold of his back armor, scaling quickly to his shoulder—Esther considerably more nimbly. As soon as both were secure, Centurion rose to his feet, a stomach-swelling act in and of itself considering the titan’s height. In the next second, his treetrunk-sized legs churned forward. The beast was in motion.

As Esther held on for her life, wide eyed with wind whipping past her, she spared a quick look to Ju`bajai. The Ithini’s oval lenses were as wide as Esther had ever seen an alien’s. Leaning her head closer, Esther yelled, “Are you all right?”