Zero Recall (60 page)

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Authors: Sara King

BOOK: Zero Recall
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“You can
order
him,” Flea insisted.

“I already did,” Jer’ait
said.  “Back when I realized there was a Huouyt stalking us.  He ignored me.”

“Enough talk!” Daviin
snapped.  “Take me to my ward!”


It’s a deep den,

Flea warned, climbing into the air.  “
What are we gonna do?


We’re going in,

Jer’ait said.  His voice was cold.  Deadly.  “
And we’re going to get him
back.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 30: Claustrophobia

 

Joe opened his eyes to
utter darkness.

He tried to stand, but
immediately, his head hit something hard.  He’d barely lifted his chest off the
floor.


Anyone there?
” he
thought.

No one answered. 
Reluctantly, Joe lifted his hand to touch his head, already knowing what he
would find.

Jer’ait had stripped off
his headcom.

Further, he had no pack,
no rifle, no gear whatsoever.

Without his helmet and
the contact it offered to his group, without his PPU to guide him from the
tunnels, without his gear, Joe felt that instinctive pang of terror that he had
to immediately force back down.  He could make out the dim outline of a small
tunnel continuing at an upward angle in front of him.  Without his visor to
collect and amplify the images, however, he might as well have been seeing
nothing at all.

Joe ran his fingers along
the wall as he considered his situation.  The size of the tunnel and its
jaggedness suggested he was in a slave passage inside a Dhasha den.  He pushed
forward, feeling with his hands.  He crested a small rise, then realized with a
sinking feeling the tunnel was now taking him down.

I don’t know which
way’s out,
he realized with increasing panic.

Joe fought to stay calm. 
Why had Jer’ait dragged him underground?  Why—

The scratching sound up
ahead answered his question with cold, hard certainty.  He couldn’t kill him in
his biosuit, so he was going to have the Dhasha do it for him.

Joe tensed, expecting a
Takki.  Thus, when the tiny Dhasha rounded the corner, its green eyes luminous
in the black, Joe could only stare.

 

 

#

 


Come on!
” Flea
shouted from up ahead.  “
The Dhasha are going nuts.  I think they know we’re
here.


Impossible,

Daviin snapped.  “
Even if all the Takki were chipped, which they aren’t, we
haven’t given them time to scream, let alone call for help.


Still, I think…  Oh crack.


What?
” the Jreet
snapped.


Guys…I found Joe.

 

 

 

 

 

#

 

Joe felt the muscles in
his right arm separate as the teeth continued to yank on him, splitting his
biosuit, grinding against his bones.  He’d been screaming for twenty tics,
dragged by his arm through the tiny tunnels, feeling his bones threaten to
crack when his body wedged in a tight space.

The tiny Dhasha was
dragging him home.

Joe struggled to push
himself forward, trying to keep the monster from ripping off his right arm.  He
knew it was pointless.  It was only half there, anyway.  The Dhasha had eaten
everything past the wrist, biosuit and all.

Joe finally gave up trying
to keep the Dhasha from ripping off his arm.  He allowed the Dhasha’s jaws to
take the full weight of his body, then reached back and pulled the knife from
his belt with his left.  For a tunnel-crawling Congie, it was a tool, not a
weapon.  A knife would never kill a Dhasha.

Hell, it probably
wouldn’t even kill a Takki.

Still, when Joe slammed
the knife blade up under the Dhasha’s scales, it was surprised.

It also tore off the rest
of his arm.

Blood spurted from the
stump, painting the sand red.

Joe screamed and hacked
into the Dhasha again.  This time, his knife slipped across scales with the
smoothness of perfectly hard, smooth glass.  In response, the Dhasha simply
grabbed him by the left arm and continued dragging him.  Dizzily, Joe felt his
body roll over the severed limb and keep going.  His biosuit began forming over
the wound to seal it, but it wasn’t working fast enough.

I’m losing too much
blood,
Joe realized, watching the trail of darkness oozing from his
wounds.  Joe could do nothing but stare into the empty green eyes as the Dhasha
continued to pull him backwards, deeper into the den.

All the while, it watched
him, its frigid emerald gaze promising death.

Joe had just begun to
lose consciousness when they hit a main tunnel.  Immediately, a second, much
larger Dhasha slammed its paw down upon Joe’s back, preventing him from getting
up.  Joe let out another scream as the claws pierced his suit and began to
carve a slow trail down his back.

“He’s mine!” the smaller
Dhasha said, releasing Joe’s arm.

“Where are the others?”
the bigger Dhasha asked, ignoring the small one.  “Where’s the rest of your
team?”

“I’m alone,” Joe gasped.

The Dhasha chuckled and
dug its claws in deeper.  Joe felt them scrape against his ribs and spine. 
Around him, several other Dhasha laughed with him.  “For some reason, we don’t
believe you.”  Then, using nothing but its talons where they dug into his back,
the Dhasha threw him down the tunnel, making him roll several times before he
came to a stop against another Dhasha’s feet.  When he came to a halt, Joe saw
his father’s knife lying in a pool of his blood on the cavern floor, much like
it had been when he first found it.

Dad…

Insanely, Joe didn’t care
if he died down here, or if he was eaten and became bone-studded Dhasha shit.  He
cared about his father’s knife, ending up in the hands of Takki.  Or buried
forever when the Space Force launched an ekhta.  Or sliced in half by some
prince’s talons. 
No, Dad…

“Oh, look how your pretty
suit seals,” the Dhasha above him said as the other padded up to him.  “We’ll
have plenty of time to play with you, I think.”  He batted him again, slicing
open Joe’s chest and rolling him back toward the first Dhasha.  Joe saw several
pieces of himself remain on the ground with the knife, biosuit still writhing
over them, trying to swallow them.

I’m dying,
he
realized, though he felt none of the detachment he had heard he would feel.  He
still felt every bit of the pain, and as the Dhasha continued to toy with him,
batting him around as a cat played with a mouse it had no intention of eating,
Joe found himself screaming over and over again.

He screamed until his
throat was raw, until his lungs were punctured by Dhasha claws and no longer
worked.

It wasn’t long before his
biosuit could not keep up with his wounds.  He felt it fail, but all Joe could
think about was the pool of blood that was becoming a dark red slick along the
sandy tunnel floor.  And the knife.  His father’s knife.  Centered in the blood
the same way it had been in the streets of San Diego.  In Manny’s hand.

No,
Joe realized
with a start. 
Not Manny’s hand.  Dad’s.

The scene that had always
been so fuzzy in his mind was suddenly crystal clear, like he was seeing it
anew.  His father, slumped over a twisted parking meter, blood pooling around
him, the knife clutched in his limp fingers. 
It had been Dad all along.
 

And he’d refused to see
it.  All this time, he’d seen Manny’s face, Manny’s body. 
Anything
to
keep from seeing those familiar features, bloody and slack in death.  But it
was
Dad. 
Dad
died to protect Sam, when the aliens came. 
Dad
had died
with the knife Joe had given him fisted in his hand.  The Swiss Army knife Joe
had gotten him because he couldn’t afford the Leatherman he’d asked for.  The
realization was shattering.  Dad had never given it away to Manny, as Joe had
always believed.  He’d held it as he
died
.

This time, when Joe saw
his own pool of blood slickening the floor, he recognized it.  He’d seen it
before, in his worst moments of terror underground.  A premonition.  A moment
of truth.  The knowledge that his dad hadn’t abandoned him, not really.  Not
even in death.

Once his mind made the
connection, it became easier for him.  Joe began to lose interest in his own
death, and began to wonder if he would see his father again.

I’m dying, Dad,
was his last thought. 
The Trith was wrong.  I was never going to destroy
Congress.

He felt a flash of relief,
then nothing.

 

 

#

 

 

Daviin had raised his
energy level, so the Dhasha facing them could only see Jer’ait.  He was in
Jikaln form, fast, maneuverable, and hard to see in the shadows.  He darted
around the Dhasha, who just watched him with shock, until they were turned the
opposite direction, facing Jer’ait instead of facing the Jreet.  The Dhasha had
just moved far enough away from Joe not to cause him any more damage when Flea
began spitting.

The two Dhasha
unfortunate enough to be touching each other roared and began tearing at the
walls, the floor, the other Dhasha, and each other in their efforts to free
themselves.  As the six Dhasha that were left were forced to turn their
attention to the greater of the two threats, Jer’ait leapt in and poisoned one,
then another, then slipped away again before they realized he wasn’t what he
appeared.

By the time they were
beginning to understand two of their fellows were not simply falling asleep,
the Jreet struck.

When Daviin descended
upon the pack of Dhasha, Jer’ait felt a little tingle of awe as the predators
clashed.  His own heritage as a prey species left him with the instinctive urge
to run as the very walls vibrated with the strength of their bodies and claws
tearing at the earth.

It took a great act of
will for Jer’ait to leap back into the fray.  Flea kept spitting, locking more Dhasha
together, gluing their feet to the floor, plugging their nostrils.

It was over in less than
a tic.  Eight Dhasha lay dead.

Not one of the grounders
had been hurt.

Flea, Daviin, and Jer’ait
all recognized that, and the fact left them in quiet awe.

It was Daviin that
dragged them out of their shock.  “
We must get Joe back to the surface.


He’s going to die,

Jer’ait said, looking at the mangled body.  It lay in several parts, and red Human
blood slicked the floor.  “
There’s nothing that could bring someone back
after that.


Nonetheless,
” Daviin
said stubbornly, “
I’ll carry him.  You call for a pickup.
”  Daviin
scooped the bloody mess from the floor and vanished again, headed for the
exit.  The way Joe floated along the tunnel, Jer’ait could almost believe he
was the Human’s spirit, come to avenge his death.


This is Commander
Zero’s Second requesting immediate pickup,
” Jer’ait said.  “
We have
injured parties needing medical attention.


Who?
” a Human
voice asked. 

It was Phoenix. 

She continued, “
Aside
from the Ooreiki that died in that bar fight yesterday, you only have one
member down, the rest at full health.  Wait for a pickup.

The Ooreiki that died? 
So
that
was why Galek was so damned nervous about the PPU.  It had been
a Peacemaker, another Eleventh Hjai.  Galek had died in some anonymous alley so
Jer’ait’s coworker could chip himself and have access to their Prime.  It came
as a blow to Jer’ait, and with it, he felt a wash of fury, knowing which of his
brothers it had been. 
They’re killing an innocent man.


Zero’s not dead yet,

Jer’ait snapped.


Oh, but he will be. 
Injuries that bad…  No way to stop it.
”  The dismissive way the Human said
it, Jer’ait had no doubt in his mind she was going to leave them there until it
was true.


Perhaps you didn’t
understand me,
” Jer’ait said softly, lapsing back into his flat,
Va’ga-trained voice.  “
By now you know my name is Jer’ait Ze’laa.  If Zero
dies, you won’t live to see your Corps Directorship.


You’re threatening
me?  Stuck on an enemy planet?
”  Phoenix laughed.


Yes.”

There was a long, horrible
pause.

Then, “
Give your
threats to someone who cares.

Jer’ait was flushing with
rage when another Human voice cut in, “
Burn that.  This is Rat.  A shuttle’s
on its way.

 

 

#

 

 

Somehow, Joe lived.

Daviin watched the entire
process, watched him die three times on the table, watched them bring him back
to life.  Watched the other Human sit down and offer up her fluids to keep him
alive.

The Ueshi doctor who had
stapled Daviin to the floor was in charge throughout, conducting a stampede of
medics with the confident beauty of a Sentinel war-dance.

A dozen hours passed with
no improvement, and once an Ooreiki doctor threw down his instruments and told
them they were wasting their time.

Daviin picked him up and
heaved him from the room.

Three days went on, and
the surgeries continued with only brief, unhappy breaks in between.  The Human
would not stabilize.  The female returned twice, to offer up more fluids.  The
third time, the Ueshi sent her back to her groundteam on a stretcher, her face
pale, her fingers trembling.

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