Syn-En: Plague World: The Founders War Begins Page 10

  A green beam shot from behind them and trailed up White-beard’s back. It lingered on his neck before blinking off.

  Gravel crunched as Richmond and Doc fell into step behind Nell.

  “Admiral, I’m not registering any trauma that would render the refugees mute.” Doc flipped open the compartment on his right forearm. “But I’ll run a diagnostic on my systems to make certain they are functioning normally.”

  Nell doubted he would find anything no matter how many checks he ran. Was it the minuscule fermites or something else? Something to do with the Plague? Her stomach cramped. “Do you think they lost their language when the virus hit? Or…”

  She drew up short. Ice formed in her veins. No, not that. She’d seen it once in a SciFi program and things didn’t end well for the people.

  “Or?” Bei stood by her side.

  Doc cocked an eyebrow. Richmond scanned their surroundings, her hand on her sidearm.

  The thought poured from Nell’s lips in a flood of fear. “What if, like everything else on this planet, they’re made from fermites and not people at all? What if they are replicants of people who once lived here? What if they want to duplicate us?”

  Richmond’s attention snapped to Nell. “The fermites have sabotaged our shuttles’ systems, stranding us on the planet.”

  Nell nodded. Oh, God. It made a horrible kind of sense. “We’re going to wake up as pod people.”

  Brooklyn and Apollie paused at the crest of the hill. They glanced back at them then the refugees.

  Bei shook his head, before escorting her up the hill. “We will not wake up as pod people.”

  Doc stroked his black goatee. “I suppose it is possible that the fermites rebuilt the world that was destroyed, including the people.”

  Bei growled.

  Raising his hands, Doc backed up a step. “I simply meant, the fermites had some residual repair programming. I do not think they represent a threat to us. Our tech malfunctions may just be a result of them trying to learn our systems, not ill-intentions.”

  “Nice save.” Nell skipped to keep up with Bei’s long strides. “Do you really think they won’t replicate us?”

  Wrapping his arm around her, he pulled her against his side. “There can only be one of you Nell Stafford. Just one.”

  She hooked her arm around his waist. “You’re pretty unique, too. Especially in the way you make a tactical maneuver look like a lover’s embrace.”

  He winked at her before switching his attention to the ridge of pines about a mile away.

  “What do you spy with your bionic eye?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Humans in the ridge line. A hundred and two of them.”

  Doc closed the distance, practically walking on her heels. “Men and women.”

  Richmond’s finger lay alongside the trigger. “I’m not detecting any weapons, even rudimentary ones.”

  Nell panted. Her side twinged in protest at the pace.

  In the lead, Apollie and Brooklyn slowed.

  Nell dug her fingers into her side as they reached them.

  Apollie’s raptor claws were fully extended on her feet. She adjusted her scarlet speckled breastplate. “Do we think it’s an ambush?”

  “Only one way to find out.” Bei jerked his chin toward the backs of the refugees.

  “How?” Nell clipped her tongue in an effort to recall her words. Sweet metal flooded her mouth. She really didn’t want to know. She really didn’t.

  “We head straight for it.” Bei increased his pace.

  Nell’s stomach dropped so low she could have used it as a kick ball. Next time, she wouldn’t ask. “At least, they won’t try anything while their people are in front of us.”

  Apollie tied her braids into a ponytail. “Many races consider it an honor to die for their people.”

  Nell clamped her lips together. She’d say that was messed up, but her husband’s job description included messed up. Worse, she knew the five of them would encircle her and fight to the last to keep her alive. A mile never seemed so long.

  #

  The sun cast a net through the forest and warmed Nell’s head. The clouds burned away. Water dripped. The scent of wet ground permeated the muggy air. A cool breeze whistled through the oaks and aspens, and a gravel path gave way to a worn trail over smooth rock. Here and there, tufts of grass erupted through the fissures.

  Nell scanned the trees. Still no sign of people. Just a preternatural stillness. She shivered and rubbed her arms. This world was wrong in so many ways. And she counted them in the quiet in her mind—no animals, except fish and people, not insects or bacteria to aid in decomposition, and yet everything appeared pristine, paradisiacal.

  There had to be a serpent around here somewhere with a juicy red apple.

  In front of her, blocking her view, Apollie and Brooklyn straightened. Bei released her, serrated blades ran down his arms, tenting his uniform sleeves. Behind her, Richmond thumbed off her safety and Doc cracked his knuckles.

  Nell took a deep breath. This is a rescue mission. A mission of peace. The Syn-En were just taking precautions. Alas no one told the refugees. She exited the forest next to Bei. Sunlight burned her eyes. Raising her hand, she created shade to see as they slowed.

  Brooklyn and Apollie shifted, giving her a view of nothing. The plateau ended in a life-altering drop, one with an abrupt splat at the end.

  Nell covered her mouth. Could she turn her NDA into a set of wings? “Holy—”

  “—Shit.” Bei finished. He rolled his shoulders. “Looks like it’s single file from here on out.”

  The four youngest of their welcoming committee lined up along the edge of the cliff.

  White-beard squinted in the sunshine. Wrinkles formed canals down his cheeks. He made eating motions with his hands then pointed over the edge.

  With her heart in her mouth, Nell followed where he pointed.

  Strangers formed a protective fence along a path winding down the side of the cliff.

  Relief nearly brought Nell to her knees. “Oh, thank God.”

  Grasping her hand, Bei hooked her finger through the back of his uniform pants. “Do not thank Him yet. We are not at our final destination.”

  She nodded. Right, things could still go haywire. “I’m just glad we’re taking the long way, not the short cut.”

  He pinged her brain box. “Just in case.”

  A file opened inside her head—schematics for a hang-glider built for one. She threw it back at him. No way would she save herself at his expense. “Together or splat, Bei. I’m counting on you to make certain it’s together.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” Turning, he lobbed the file back to her, then closed the WA, and marched forward.

  “You’re such a cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater.” Nell slapped a smile on her face and followed him. Just because she had the file, didn’t mean she had to use it. Unless… Maybe she could enlarge it, make it hold two…

  Men and women lined the upper portion of the path like pickets on a fence. Their clothes were simple colors of blue, yellow, red, green and off-white. The men had tentacles of dreadlocks reaching to their knees. The women created swirling confections of hair atop their heads, cemented in place with mud. Brown eyes watched them from cinnamon and cafe au lait colored skin.

  Treetops appeared between the human pickets.

  Then thick branches.

  When the path began to level out, children appeared. They captured giggles behind cupped hands when a few adventurous ones brushed their fingers along Nell’s legs. A boy of six jerked back when Apollie’s vambrace shifted. His arms flapped as he tried to regain his balance.

  “Oh!” Nell stumbled forward.

  Bei caught the front of the lad’s vest and hauled him back to firm ground. With a frown, her husband pointed to the boy then the path.

  Red darkened the boy’s cheeks, and he studied his bare feet.

  Bei tousled the nubby dreadlocks on his head before marching onward.

 
; Nell kissed Bei’s shoulder blade. He would make a wonderful father. Once all the refugees were safely aboard.

  He cleared his throat. “You are still transmitting in the WA.”

  Richmond giggled.

  Doc huffed. “I did not mess with her hormones, Admiral. You can check her medical records yourself.”

  Glancing over her shoulder, Nell glared at Doc. “Oh, for pity’s sake, I’m perfectly normal.”

  Except that she glowed in the dark.

  And was the oldest living human.

  And could change to a silver color.

  And…

  Apollie snorted. “Warriors always have heightened libidos, even the inferior males. Nell Stafford’s appetites are in keeping with a leader of her standing. The Admiral should give her a least a dozen offspring. Strong females for battle, and a few males to strengthen the bonds with our females.”

  Heat prickled Nell’s face. This was so not how she pictured this first contact going. “Maybe we could focus on our mission and not my sex life. I don’t think any of us want to wake up dead tomorrow.”

  Apollie’s beads clacked together. “I do not believe these Humans mean us harm. In fact, I believe we are being welcomed with a feast.”

  Nell’s nostrils quivered and her stomach rumbled. The fermented scent of baking bread and roasting fish tickled her senses.

  “Admiral.” At the front of their line, Brooklyn broke his silence. “I’m detecting dwellings at nine o’clock.”

  Nell peered through the tree trunks. Mud colored cliff walls met her gaze. The stone path turned into packed dirt. Rosemary, thyme, and sage bushes grew in patches of sunlight. Rocks hemmed in rectangles of peppermint. Peach, apricot, and apple trees sprouted in a fruit cocktail orchard. The path curved around an almond tree and the valley opened up.

  A meadow of wild roses lapped at the base of another cliff. In a niche, twenty feet off the ground the refugees lived in adobe buildings.

  Blinking, Nell swayed on her feet. “They’re indians. Sinaqua indians.” She latched onto Bei’s arm. “Do you speak Anasazi?”

  His almond-shaped eyes darkened as he searched the CIC.

  Apollie’s pale nostrils flared. “That is not Anasazi. We had control of Earth then.”

  Nell bit her lip. She wouldn’t ask if they’d taken the Southwest Indian tribe. She’d learned her lesson about questions she really didn’t want answers to.

  White-beard beckoned from the threshold of a suspension bridge. Water sluiced around the narrow channel and white foamed in holding pools underneath the hanging wooden planks.

  Bei closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his sclera had returned to its normal white color. “The Anasazi are on a Skaperian world.”

  Brooklyn headed for the bridge. “It would help if they spoke.”

  Apollie walked beside the medic. “Or if their hand signals conformed to the known sign languages.”

  The bridge swayed as the old man reached the halfway point. He see-sawed left and right, grabbing the rope bannister.

  Nell’s stomach pitched; bile burned her throat. Perhaps she could wade across the stream. Water frothed against the pristine boulders. A leaf raced by on the current before dissolving in front of her eyes.

  Bei shifted his rifle to the front. Crouching, he cupped one hand as a stirrup beside his thigh. “I’ll carry you.”

  “You’ll be too heavy. We’ll fall through.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. Just because she suffered from car sickness didn’t mean she’d get sick on the bridge. She hadn’t been sick on the spaceships. Of course, she’d either been afraid for her life or it had been smooth sailing.

  Bei’s eyes widened. “If I have to carry you, then my hands won’t be free.”

  Brooklyn stepped onto the bridge. Without grasping the side rails, he raced across the planks. “Hey! Wait! Stop!”

  Nell’s attention flew toward the camp.

  Two men balanced on an oak ladder and pulled reed baskets from a niche. A naked toddler played in a mud puddle directly under the ledge. The ladder swayed to the right, lifting one leg from the stone perch.

  “He’s going to fall.” Bei sprinted for the bridge. His arms pumped in a blur. He zigged to the left of the bridge entrance, covering the promontory in two strides. Then he leapt over the water, clearing the fifteen feet with a few feet to spare. He overtook Brooklyn and passed him.

  “I’ve got to get me new upgrades.” Doc reached the bridge.

  Richmond quickly followed. When one stepped left, the other stepped right. The bridge rippled under their assault but didn’t sway.

  In the village, the ladder leg slammed to the ground.

  Dodging around Apollie, Nell ran after the Syn-En.

  The basket slipped from one man’s grip. Holding the ladder in one hand, he lunged for it. The basket slipped through his hand, heading directly to the toddler underneath. The ladder over balanced. One man grabbed for the ledge. He dangled there for a moment. Then the niche crumbled and he plummeted toward the ground. The other man listed to the right. His arms flapped and he shouted.

  Nell hit the bridge. On her second step, she pitched to the right. The handrail cut across her breasts.

  “Every other foot.” Apollie stood behind her. “You step with your left, when I say.”

  Flinging her arm over, she teetered between the two handrails.

  “Right. Left.” Apollie called like a professional drill sergeant.

  Nell obeyed. She eyed the horizon. There was a sickening crunch as the basket hit. Bei disappeared behind a beehive oven. Brooklyn lagged ten feet behind.

  Bone snapped and a man screamed.

  Doc and Richmond sprinted faster.

  Bei leapt into the air. He clawed for the last man and hooked his shirt. Fabric tore and they both disappeared from sight.

  A sickening thud followed.

  The bridge bucked under Nell’s feet, then she was on terra firma. Please be alright. Please be alright.

  Apollie sprinted past. Her backward leg joints flexed deeper with each step until she sprung ten feet at a time.

  Nell gasped for breath. Why couldn’t speed have been one of her freakish powers? She passed a hut. Metates dusted with powdered corn. Pottery filled with alcohol. A pile of wood. Heat blasted her near the beehive oven.

  Doc and Brooklyn spoke soothingly. Men moaned.

  She rounded the oven.

  A green beam shot out of Doc’s wrist, swept over the man in front of him. Richmond removed items from her medic belt.

  Bei and Brooklyn crouched by the second man.

  The man gurgled and tried to rise despite the bone sticking out of his pant leg.

  Apollie keened softly and dusted corn kernels from a small, still form. A muddy foot lay near the remnants of the basket.

  “No. No!” Nell cut a straight-line to the child.

  Bei’s head snapped up. “Nell. Don’t.”

  Dropping to her knees, she slid on the ground the rest of the way, coming to a stop inches from the child.

  His brown eyes stared unseeing at the blue sky.

  Apollie straightened his neck.

  “Don’t be dead. Don’t be dead.” Tears burned Nell’s eyes and stung her nose. These refugees didn’t deserve to have their day of liberation marked by tragedy. She set her hand on his narrow chest, willed him to breathe. “Please. Please.”

  “Nell.”

  She opened her first aid programming. “I need…I need a diagnostic kit. Get one from Doc. He always has a spare.”

  Apollie wiped her nose. “Nell.”

  “Just do it.”

  “Nell.”

  “Don’t Nell me.” Her blood heated and her skin tightened. Why wouldn’t someone just once do as she asked? “Just do it.”

  Shock blazed in Apollie’s red eyes and her face paled.

  Nell sucked in a deep breath. Man, she was so angry she felt like she was on fire. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

  Her body wouldn’t ob
ey her commands. She glanced down.

  White light pulsed from her fingertips. It crept like vines up the boy’s chest and circled his neck.

  Footsteps pounded behind her. Hundreds of them. No one said anything.

  A scream locked in Nell’s throat. What was happening to her?

  The glow seeped into the boy’s neck. A second later, he inhaled sharply and blinked. Then he began to cry.

  Nell yanked her hands away. “Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.” A shadow cut across her and she looked up. “Bei, I—”

  The silhouette of a woman faced the crowd. “Today is truly a day of celebration. Praise the Meek! Our brothers and sisters have been restored to us.”

  Chapter 12

  Health alarms flared in Bei’s head—low power in auxiliary systems, spiking fear pushing through toward anger, and imminent forced reboot. Bei quickly scanned his body for trauma. The tattered sleeves of his uniform knit together over his healing NDA skin. Anesthetic reduced the rock rash on his back to a distant ache. He opened a diag box. It must be a fermite-induced malfunction. Unless…

  His head snapped up and his cardiac program misfired. Nell!

  His wife stood ten meters away. With her fists digging into her hips, she faced the crowd of biologic refugees. “I can’t believe you people speak English.”

  Opening the WA, Bei tapped into her health monitors. Oxygen saturation, heart rate and respiratory rates dropped to critical levels. How the hell did she remain standing?

  Heat from the beehive ovens on her right caused the air to scintillate. Fermites dove into her skin. Pops of light sparkled like stars against her black uniform. The damn things weren’t healing her. Pushing to his feet, Bei slid his TorpSK7 from its holster.

  Human refugees in red, blue, green, and yellow cotton garments crowded closer to his wife. Spilled corn kernels crunched under their bare feet. On the ground nearby, Paladin Apollie yanked the shattered woven basket and shielded her featherheaded self from Nell.

  The boy on the ground between Apollie and Nell rubbed his eyes. Tears made tracks in the corn dust lightening his tan cheeks. “Papa!”