Warrior Chronicles 5: Warrior's Curse (2 page)

“If we could put one of those things inside someone who is taken, we might find out where they are going.”

Cort was on his feet before Thorn finished his answer. He touched his ear and said, “Ares to Weela.” After a moment, he spoke again. “Weela, this is Ares. I have a question for you. How good are your trackers?”

Cort listened to Weela’s reply. “Get me some of them. Maybe ten. I need them fast though. Can you get them to Earth in the next thirty hours? Better yet, get them to Phobos. I’ll handle the rest. Thank you.”

When he disconnected, Cort turned back to the others. “Thorn, that was Weela, a H’uuman diplomat. She is going to get me ten of the trackers they use. I’m going to ask for some volunteers from the Phobos security corps to undergo emergency surgery to have the trackers and some small weapons put into their bodies. If they get taken, we should be able to track them anywhere in the universe.”

Thorn smiled bleakly. “I cannot tell you how much I wanted to hear that, General.”

“Wolfpack One is the alert fast response battalion right now. I’m going to let them know what’s going on so they can have the H’uuman transports ready to jump. Do you have anything else, Dar?”

“No. We have a meeting with Governor Nikolas in two hours.” Turning to Thorn, he added, “In the meantime, would you like to join us for lunch, Detective Thorn?”

“I would be honored, thank you.”

A few minutes later, in the warm sun of early afternoon, the three men walked through the square to an upscale restaurant. As one of Dar’s bodyguards opened the door for the trio, the front of the building exploded.

--

Cort opened his eyes to see a Marine standing over him. His left hand rested on the cold tempered concrete of the square, while his right hand was surprisingly warm. As he struggled to gain his bearings, he realized he was seeing the short, blonde woman out of only one eye.
Godsdammit! Not again.
Beyond the young woman there was a ring of Marines, both CONDOR-clad humans, some with wolves at their side, and insectoid H’uumans, all looking outward to scan for other threats. The COmbat Nanotube Defense OpeRations suits were always menacing, but two dozen of them standing between three meter tall roach-like insects, all with weapons drawn, kept even the most aggressive reporters at bay. No one had any doubt the Marines would shoot first and ask questions later if they were pushed. And everyone had seen H’uuman wings in action.

“What happened?” Cort gasped. The words were mangled because his left cheek was torn from the corner of his mouth to his cheekbone.

“Bomb, sir.”

“Dar? Thorn?” Cort’s ears were still ringing but he could hear the screams and moans around him.

“Mr. Sike is dead, General. Thorn is hurt pretty badly, but it looks like he was behind you so your FALCON protected you both. The superintendent’s security guards died as well. All told, there are about thirty dead and fifty wounded. The dead are mostly civilians, the wounded mostly our people.”

Cort tried to look at his armor, but could only raise one arm easily. The Flexible Armor Light COmbat Nanotube suit was intact, but clearly damaged. Several of its augmented muscle pads were cut open, and its passive camouflage system was malfunctioning, making Cort look twice to verify his body was intact.

“Kimberly?” Cort used the corporal’s arm for balance and pulled himself into a sitting position. He saw blood and flesh all over his uniform. As he sat up, Dar’s finger, still wearing the ring that marked his marriage to his long-dead wife, fell from Cort’s stomach to the ground between his legs.

“She is fine, sir. She and your son are both safe. All of Solitude is on alert. Earth residents are being removed from the planet as we speak. No one is going to get near them.”

Cort picked up the finger and tried to stand, but the Marine held him in place. “Wait for the medics, sir. They are coming down now.”

“Get a security team to Thorn’s wife. Protect her.”

“Yes, sir.” The woman touched her ear and spoke to someone. Cort assumed it was either the
Kalashnikov
in orbit or its shuttle. Through the din around him, he heard her say, “...and get Rand Gaines secure. Until further notice, he is Primary Command.”

“No.” Cort gasped as he tried to move again. He realized that at least some ribs were broken, so he fell back to the ground to allow his synthetics to stitch them properly. “Jane Munroe is Primary Command, and I want martial law on all human planets.”

“Yes, sir.” The corporal relayed Cort’s orders.

Cort coughed up some blood. “And get the governors and parliament secure. Everyone gets a CONDOR detail. No one can refuse it. Don’t restrict their movements, but make sure they are safe.”

She spoke to the
Kalashnikov
again, then moved back as the medical team arrived. When they went to Cort first, he waved them away. “No. Take care of Thorn. I’m already mending.”

A corpsman looked at the ruined eye, then turned his attention to Thorn and requested another medical team from the ship. As he worked on the civilian, the corpsman heard Cort cough again and turned just in time to see the general’s ruined eye pop out of its socket and hang on the side of his face. He remembered the battle for the Tapon homeworld, where Kim Addison had been as formidable as any of the H’uuman soldiers. As he turned back to Thorn, he said over his shoulder, “General, Mrs. Addison is going to be really pissed at me for following your orders.”

As the corporal leaned over Cort to lift his eye back into its place, he could read her name on the chest of her FALCON. “Corporal Faulks, my wife is not to be allowed off of Solitude for any reason.” He winced as he took a deep breath. “For both the corpsman’s sake, and for Earth’s.”

The Marine showed the barest hint of a smile. “Trust me, sir. No one wants Mrs. Addison here right now.” After a moment of listening to her comm, she added, “General Munroe is aware of the situation and has assumed Primary Command. Admiral Jones has dispatched additional ships to both Earth and Solitude. Admiral Bazal is on his way here as well.”

Knowing the telepathic octopod was on his way to Earth made Cort’s immediate concerns much more manageable. The second medical team arrived and Cort let them work on him for several minutes. When they were about to evacuate him to the
Kalashnikov,
he stopped them. “Wait. I need to stand up and speak for a minute.”

“Sir, that is a bad idea,” Faulks pulled her hand away from Cort’s face after the medic wrapped a bandage around the loose eye.

“That’s an order,” Cort coughed more blood. “I assume the press is here. Get them rounded up. I’m going to speak before I leave.”

Faulks and the medic looked at each other. The corpsman shrugged and Faulks said, “Yes, sir.” She stood and moved to the second ring of Marines that was forming. Once the reporters present were gathered, Cort stood gingerly and walked to where they waited. As he stepped toward them, the bandage on his head came loose and his injured eye fell to his cheek. The confusing signals it sent his brain caused Cort to stumble. Faulks steadied him and they stopped in front of the reporters, most of whom were wearing data glasses. Cort knew they were recording his every move and word.

Cort lisped, “Yesterday I promised that every single one of you are safe from me.” His injured eye became too distracting, so Cort took the combat knife of a nearby Marine and cut the dangling organ from the muscles holding it. He handed the eye to the medic standing beside him, and turned back to the group of reporters just in time to see one of them faint, and another one vomit on a colleague in front of him. A coughing fit caused Cort’s blood to splatter on those closest to him, and the muscle tissue hanging from his empty eye socket constricted and twitched like living spaghetti. “Today some of you know that you aren’t.”

“I have one thing to say to the people who killed my friend and loved one. I will find you. And I will rain destruction down on you in ways that will make your gods jealous.”

--

Light years away and several hours later at Bergh Station on Solitude,
Kimberly Addison watched her husband speak to the reporters. Cort’s face was ruined again. His right cheek and forehead were covered with cuts and blood. She knew that side would heal fine. But the left side of his face was destroyed. His cheek was torn into two flaps that sputtered blood and saliva with every word. As she watched him cut the dangling eye off, her own already swollen eyes began to stream tears again and her lips quivered. She could see the broken bone underneath the torn flesh around his eye. Part of the socket itself was missing. 

Cort’s uniform was covered in blood. She wondered how much was his own and how much was Dar’s and how much was from the other victims. She thought about the day her first husband’s dead body was carried into the colony structure on Mars. It seemed so long ago, yet every time Cort’s body was broken in battle, that day came back and haunted her.
Will there ever a be day when he doesn’t come back?

She went to the boys’ room and kissed their young son on his forehead. As she turned to leave, George woke up. She looked at him for a moment before he sat up and spoke to her.

“I have been watching the newsvids. Cort’s face is injured again. Will he be okay?”

Kimberly motioned the avatar to follow her. It had been so long since she thought of George as anything other than a little boy, she often forgot that
George
stood for GEOthermal Responsive Gnostic Entity. The avatar in front of her was actually the humanoid interface for the massive, hundred-million year old entity that lived beneath the planet’s surface. Like so many others, Kim thought, George was another outcast that Cort had taken into his family.

When they were back in the main room of the family quarters, Kim sat on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. George sat down and she pulled him against her side. “He will be fine, George. Our synthetics will heal him. But he will be sad and distant for a while. He was very close to Dar. We all were.”

“I did not get to spend much time with Dar, but he was very nice to me. I never felt different around him.”

Kim smiled for the first time since the security team told her what had happened. “Cort doesn’t let any of us feel different. We are all outcasts in some way, but Cort has molded us into a family.” Without thinking about it, Kim ruffled George’s synthetic brown hair. “He is an outcast too, you know. Other than you and Bazal, no one is more alone than he is.”

“Sometimes I think his soul is as old as I am. Since Lex’s death, I have learned how to recognize his sadness. He becomes distant and his eyes change somehow.”

“Yeah, they do. I see it too. You are much wiser than the little boy you appear to be.”

“I keep this form for Dalek. Cort has given me permission to change my form if I choose to. I am only restricted in that I cannot take the appearance of any of you.”

Kim smiled again. “I know. I wasn’t criticizing your appearance. I just mean that it is easy to forget how old you are. Unless we are talking like this, you are just my little boy.”

George stopped moving and stared at Kim. “Really? You think of me as your son?”

“Yes, of course. Cort and I both do.”

George continued to stare as he quietly said, “I know Cort loves me. I assumed that you did not because I am not born of you.”

“No you are not. But you are my son, nonetheless. I want you to grow up with Dalek. I want to watch you both grow into your potential.” Kim put her arm around her son and pulled him against her again. “I love you, George.”

George leaned against Kim’s breast and whispered, “I love you too, Mom.”

He didn’t see the new, happier tears, stream down Kim’s cheeks. Without looking up, he said, “I can help Father.”

Kim sat up, wiping the tears from her face. “What do you mean?”

“I have access to the complete datanet. I can mine the ‘net and find the people who tried to kill him. The people who killed Dar. But it would violate Father’s instructions.”