Home Planet: Apocalypse (Part 2) (17 page)

The bark of huskies carried across the frigid air, followed by the command of their master.

“Easy!” I heard—a command to the husky pack.

They were close now. Stealth and a crummy homemade rifle were my only allies now. All I could do was wait.

Some more barking—closer this time. Then a command.

“Whoa!”

All still from the north, but not far away. I guessed just five hundred feet at most.

“Whoa! Whoa!” came the call again, this time from a second, distinct voice.

Next came the sounds of men dismounting and calling to each other, fired up, thrilled by the hunt. They sure didn’t care about stealth. Why should they? They knew either their quarry was alone or at most four combined with Cortez, Myleene and Alexa.

The racket of the dogs and sled grew from the distance and passed by somewhere to the west—my left. I heard a second sled go by maybe a hundred and fifty feet to the east. Neither were slowing and only canine sounds punctuated their advance. As they receded past me, the effects of Doppler lengthened their frequencies as they continued south. It seemed like they were hedging their bets. Maybe they thought they had a trail but were only confident enough to devote two of the four units.

Still two too many to fight
, I thought as the first footfalls crunching in the snow reached my ears.

Their number was uncertain, but this time there were more than two per sled.

“
Look!
See, there’s still a trace. Look where I brushed away the snow.
That’s
definitely a footprint,” said the young man. “And as we saw up there, he’s alone.”

“He could be very far away,” said a gravel-toned older man.

“
Yes
,” replied the first guy, as if speaking to someone of limited intelligence. “
That’s
why the other units are continuing south. Now keep your wits about you in case he’s nearby.”

They fell into silence. They weren’t far now. Their footfalls got closer with every passing minute until something changed and they became quieter.

Then from nowhere came the young guard’s voice.

“
Outlander!
Get up. We can see your hideout. You are surrounded. If you have a weapon, leave it there or we will open fire! Do you understand?”

I exhaled the sinking feeling inside consuming me. But what choice did I have? So like the undead, I rose from the snowy ground. Standing in my shallow hide, I squinted at the bright light as my eyes adjusted to my new predicament.

As I held my hands aloft, I turned around three-sixty, assessing how many guards had surrounded me. There were
a lot
—sixteen, I counted. All wore the same once-white coveralls with the bulk of winter gear underneath and a number printed on the front. All were bearded and diminutive—compared to me, at least. And all had me in the sights of their crude rifles. A fleeting grin crossed my face as I thought back to some dumb movie I’d seen.

“Why are you smiling, Outlander?” asked the young guard designated
Number-9.

“Oh, you know I was just thinking of this movie where the good guy ducked and the bad guys all shot each other. Tryin’ to think of the name now … No, it escapes me. Have you seen that one?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Movie?
What is that?”

“You don’t kn—”

“Enough talk,” he shouted. “Number-22, throw him the manacles. Outlander, put them on.”

I needed to string this out. At the same time, care was needed—these guys were edgy as hell.

The manacles landed at my feet and Number-9 looked on expectantly.

I checked my watch: 12:05 p.m.—still fifteen minutes to go.

“Put them on!” barked the young guard.

I listened, but all I heard was the breeze—no shuttle, no escape.

The manacles lay just outside of my shallow grave-shaped hole. Number-9—the young lead guard—looked mad, but screw him. If he was going to shoot me, he would’ve done it by now. Clearly, his orders were find and capture not seek and destroy. My main concern was one of them getting jumpy and blowing my head off by mistake.

“I
said
put on the manacles.”

“Why don’t you come and do it?” I said, sending him a defiant grin.

His pride was on the line now. He couldn’t lose face in front of his men. But he was a good head-height shorter than me and sixty pounds worse off.

A pregnant pause followed before he motioned with his rifle.

The wind picked up and something piqued my interest, something faint and ephemeral, high pitched and unnatural. Then it died away with the waning breeze. It had arrived from the south, from the direction the other two sleds had traveled.

“Last chance, Outlander!” called Number-9.

“Or what? You’ll ask again?” I taunted.

“No, we’ll beat you then put them on you anyway. So you may as well—”

And then the back of his head exploded in a red mist of blood and gore as a distant gunshot rang out from the southeast.

I dove into my hole and picked up the rifle as Number-9’s already-dead body crumpled to the snow and his men got over their wide-eyed disbelief and started scattering. Peeking up from the recess, a guy approached wrongly thinking I’d give him cover. As he neared, he raised his rifle, but I’d already trained mine and shot him first. He fell with the shot to the chest as I grasped for the spare rounds in my pocket and loaded another. Several more gunshots reported from the distance and by time I looked up, I counted three more guards down. A few had taken shelter behind their rusty steel sleds while others remained in the open. I took aim and got one in the back as another guard stumbled to the deck just before reaching the sled. With my head back down, I reloaded and peeked over the top. Six guards remained, all sheltering on the northwest side of the sleds. They’d heard their hidden enemy’s gunshots, too, but they had no target except for me. The incoming fire forced my head down, but their poor accuracy, my concealment and the angle of attack combined to keep me safe. After the initial attempts, incoming fire became sporadic. The gunfire from the southeast had ceased, but the high-pitched noise had returned until there was no longer any doubt. My watch read 12:10 p.m. as the shuttle’s maneuvering thrusters announced their arrival from inside the clouds. I turned on my side and beamed uncontrollably.

What a sight for sore eyes
, I thought, watching the commanding gray craft descend toward me.

It hovered thirty feet from the ground to my east, then oriented its nose at the wide-eyed enemy. To them, it must’ve been like an alien encounter or perhaps their religious dogma told them it was a beast sent by the Devil. Then unexpectedly, the four thrusters sent the craft into a one-eighty degree turn while simultaneously easing it down. It slid in reverse, descending just thirty feet to my northeast with its rear section between the cowering enemy and me. The familiar shapes of the cargo door and the stubby delta winglets and low tailfin came into view. Even the thrusters were as loud as an idling turbofan, but the lack of the main engines’ deafening roar spared my eardrums. Four hatches flipped open and out grew telescopic landing stalks before the shuttle touched down. Through the gap below the fuselage, I could see the six guards making no moves, hostile or otherwise. They seemed transfixed, or perhaps petrified. The thrusters powered down and the sound of my breath and the light breeze returned. Moments later, the shrill drone of electrical servos pulled the thrusters into the fuselage, their apertures disappearing with the sliding of an internal cover.

Barely audible voices arrived from the north. One guard was aiming at the shuttle, while another seemed to be persuading him not to. Then the muzzle flash from his gun announced the shot milliseconds before the sound radiated across the ice field. The bullet ricocheted off the downward sloping cargo door and into the snow. Another pause followed the muffled sounds of something retracting inside the shuttle. The whir of actuators broke the calm and the cargo door slowly hinged down to form a ramp onto the snow.

And there she stood. Laetitia, in full marine combat armor, carrying two assault rifles. She looked calm and fearless as she turned to me, her face behind the transparent helmet visor. Dark green body armor covered her torso, arms and legs.

“For you,” she called out and threw me one of the assault rifles with two spare magazines taped to the stock.

I removed the mags and pocketed them, then checked the gun over.

Moments later, the enemy opened fire on her, sending her into an expert roll to her right. They’d missed and she’d ended in a crouched firing position, immediately returning a withering volley of fire, hitting one guard in the lower leg.

He writhed on the ground as his buddies reloaded frantically. Laetitia was already advancing in a wide arc, flanking the men to the northeast, maintaining her steady aim using the medium-range optical sight. Despite her advantages, she wasn’t invincible, and I poured on some covering fire. It caused the Valdus’ men to file around to the north, out of my firing arc. They’d left the guy with the leg injury, though, clearly not subscribing to the no-one-left-behind philosophy. I put him out of his misery as Laetitia came at them from the north, opening up with precise three-round bursts. The ice fields fell silent. Seconds later, Laetitia walked calmly from behind the sled and toward me. I stood, smiling, genuinely happy to see her. She was a fearsome warrior that I hoped I’d never come up against. She sent a smile back and flipped up her visor unveiling her beautiful face.

“Am I ever glad to see you,” I said, feeling as though a hug was appropriate but being met with a handshake.

“It’s nice to see you too, Mr. Luker. All proximate enemies have been neutralized.”

I looked her up and down.

“Look at you. You’ve come ready for World War III!”

“You informed me that the landing zone may be hot, so I came prepared.”

I chuckled and said, “Well, I’m sure glad you did.”

Her head turned slightly to look past me, to the south and her smile melted away. She took a few steps and I turned to see what she was looking at.

“You see that? You hear it?” she said.

I held my breath and listened, squinting to the extent of my visual acuity. Nothing.

“More men and dogs are approaching from the south. Do you wish to engage them?”

“What instructions has Reichs given you?”

“My mission parameters are to report back with possibilities for repairing the
Juno Ark
, to look for suitable places for his habitation and to protect you unless it conflicts with the first two objectives.”

“Great, so I’m the third most important objective?”

“Yes, Mr. Luker. That is correct.”

I shook my head smiling. At least she was honest. At least she was on my side.

“No, Laetitia, we don’t need to engage them. There’s a far worthier target than these soldier-wannabes. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

She gave a curt nod and we disappeared into the shuttle.

Three minutes later, we were in the air, flying north through thick, white cloud at Mach 0.9. I’d talked her out of engaging the main engines, which could’ve taken us supersonic. The thrusters were quiet and I didn’t want them tracking us, as limited as their mobility was. Besides, there wasn’t far to go—not relative to the shuttle’s range, anyway.

On the way, I told her about discovering the city in the ice and its despotic ruler, Valdus. After ten minutes or so the shuttle climbed, then leveled off above the San Antonio range. She just sat impassively, listening with the occasional question of clarification. Her listening skills sure beat most humans I’d met, many of whom needed one more ear and one less mouth. Then came the part about my so-called trial and punishment in the Games. Finally, I told her about the bravery of Alexa, Myleene and Cortez and our escape from the clutches of tyranny. The shuttle slowed and descended to the predetermined coordinates in a glaciated valley amongst the mountains. We hovered below the cloud layer and Laetitia carried out an all-spectrum scan of the environs, finding no life, human or otherwise. To save on fuel, she landed the shuttle and we walked past the passenger section to the cargo hold at the rear.

“Wow, quite an arsenal. Where’d you get all this stuff?” I said, eyeing the boxes of ammo, grenades, a selection of weapons and another suit of body armor, extra large.

“Mostly Module 2.”

That was the military module, the one with no gravity and no life support.

“Easy, when you don’t need air.”

“Indeed, Mr. Luker. So what is your proposal?”

“My
proposal
is two-fold. First, I’d like to pay our friend Valdus the not-so-great-marshal a visit. There are hundreds if not thousands of people under his rule and ... well, I saw things I hoped I’d never see. He treats them worse than animals; he needs to be removed. Permanently.”

She tried to interrupt, but took the hint when I held up my hand.

“Before I take him down, there’s something I need from him,” I continued.

“And what is that?” she asked.

“Information in preparation for part two.”

“Explain.”

“The second place we’re going is Hawaii. Ever been there?”

“No.”

“Well, it used to be nice according to Juliet. Anyway, Hawaii is apparently home to an advanced city—I heard it from Valdus and I heard it from Cortez. Rumor has it that survivors from the
Juno
made it there. If anyone knows about Hawaii, it’s Valdus. He told me a story about some visitors from there that arrived in a light aircraft. A damn light aircraft in this place!”

No response, so I continued.

“So anyway, he and his father met with them, found out all about them and then murdered them for flying in a plane.”

“Why did they kill them for that?”

“Valdus has some strange beliefs, one of which is that flying is sinful and ungodly. Apparently, it carries the death penalty.”

“Then, by his measure, we are criminals.”

“According to Valdus we are. Yet another reason why he needs to go.”

“So what do you hope to find in Hawaii, Mr. Luker?”

“Answers, help, a place to settle perhaps.”

“Going to Hawaii is consistent with Arnie’s instructions. Interrogating and toppling Valdus is not.”

“Explain.”

“Certainly. My mission parameters are—”

“Yeah, you said: repair the ship, find a nice place for Reichs and you to play happy families and protect yours truly.”

“Correct. Going to Hawaii fulfills the first of them. If it is the most advanced place on Earth, they may have the expertise and resources we need to fix the ship.”

I somehow doubted it, given the lack of space presence, but who was I to dissuade her?

She continued. “From what you have told me, it also sounds like the most habitable place, too. It is unnecessary to engage Valdus to go to Hawaii. We can go there directly.”

I scoffed at her clear-cut logic, shaking my head in disagreement.

“Laetitia, if you’d seen the living hell of Valdus’s world, you’d feel differently. I
can’t
leave those people under his rule. I just can’t.”

Would she feel the same way had she seen it?
I thought, cognizant of how easily one could forget she’s an android.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Luker, but I cannot deviate from my mission.”

I had to think of another approach.

“So I’ll go alone and you’ll need to protect me. Remember the third mission parameter?”

“I would protect you by stopping you from going,” she said, matter-of-factly.

My last try and if this failed I was all out of ideas.

“So you’re good with investigating Hawaii?”

“Yes, as I already confirmed.”

“So what if we turn up there and it’s ruled by a despot like Valdus, except one with advanced technology like surface to air missiles? This is a civilian shuttle, not an armored gunship. And what if we land and they have a hostile well-equipped army? We may be good, Laetitia, but we can’t take on an entire army.”

She stood impassively, as though detached from reality while processing the challenge to her logic. Eye contact returned and the beginnings of a smiled turned up her perfectly formed lips.

“Your logic is robust, Mr. Luker. Intelligence from Valdus could be useful in determining whether a greater threat exists on Hawaii. Militarily, the soldiers we have encountered so far have been weak. They carry primitive weapons unable even to penetrate the cargo doors,” she said, looking over to where the round had struck. There was no sign of internal damage.

“So do we have ourselves a deal?” I said, holding out my hand.

She took my hand and pumped it firmly, smiling. “Yes, Mr. Luker, we have ourselves a deal.”