Marauder Aegus (4 page)

I
put
on a ridiculous suit over my armor. The tailor gushed about how good it looked on my ‘wide shoulders,’ but it makes me feel confined.

My armor fits my skin like a glove, but the suit hangs limply on my body like it’s a layer of dead skin.

There’s even a pointless piece of cloth I’m supposed to wrap around the collar and tie into a knot.

“The buttons on the shirt are sufficient,” I say, throwing the cloth tie to the floor. “I will not need this.”

“It will tie the whole outfit together,” the tailor says, laughing. “Pun not intended.”

“Pun?” I ask.

“Never mind,” he says, picking the tie up off the floor. “See, it’s teal, like your...armor...which complements your purple skin!”

He holds the tie up against my chest, and I start to understand what he means.

“Fine,” I say, “but I don’t know how to–”

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I got you.”

He pops the collar up on my shirt, then starts wrapping the tie around it. He makes a number of strange loops, and suddenly it’s tightening around my neck. He pops the collar back down over it, and turns the mirror back toward me.

“See?” he nods, gesturing to my reflection in the mirror.

I grunt. It looks good, but I shouldn’t get used to wearing ridiculous clothes like this.

“Where is Anya?” I ask.

“Umm,” he says. “The Tsarevna will come back when the Tsar is done with her, I expect. I learned a long time ago not to expect royalty to be punctual. Our time is theirs to waste.”

“You can wait out in the hall, if you’d like. I’m done!” The tailor looks over my outfit one more time, and nods in approval.

I open the door and let him step out into the corridor first. He smiles as soon as he enters the hallway, but then a frown overtakes his face.

“Tsarevna,” he says. “What’s wrong?”

Anya? Something’s wrong?

I lumber into the hallway, shoving my big frame in front of the tailor.

Anya is smiling, but it looks fake. I haven’t known her long, but I’ve been around humans long enough to spot a phony smile.

“Wow,” Anya says. “Your outfit looks stunning.”

“Anya,” I say. “What’s wrong?”

When she ignores my question, I feel even more concerned. It feels as if the pressure in the hall is becoming suffocating, and my heart pounds in my chest. I know something is horribly wrong, but I can’t decipher what it is.

I look down toward the end of the hall, but see nothing unusual. I sniff, and I smell men, oiled weapons and gunpowder. All the guards here are armed, so that’s not too odd...but–

“Aegus,” Anya says, putting a hand on my shoulder. She grabs the tie and locks eyes with me. “This tie...and I’m wearing a red dress. Our outfits will clash, we’re meant to be engaged. We have to match!”

“Anya,” I say. “Something is wrong, the clothes don’t matter–”

“They do matter!” she says, eyes bulging. “They matter so much. I think I should wear something teal, too. The thing I wore in the spaceport when we first met–”

I hear oiled metal sliding down the hallway, and I know I have just moments to act.

My perfectly tailored suit tears to shreds as my armor blasts off my body and enshrouds Anya. I solidify the back first, and just as it hardens, I hear machine gun fire erupting down the hallway.

The tailor screams and dives back into my room headfirst.

I’ve put all my armor onto Anya, and the bullets are ricocheting off it.

I liquefy, pulling a small part of the armor back around my hand, and then I propel Anya’s shielded body back into the room with the tailor.

I throw the small chunk of armor down the hall and shift into bear form.

The armor breaks into dozens of tiny pieces, scattering across the hall. It rams into each incoming bullet, deflecting it away from me.

I release a ferocious roar and rush down the hall at full speed protected behind my temporary shield, and when I’m just a few meters away from their guns, I feel the first bullet penetrate my fur and lodge into my skin.

But it’s too late for them.

I swipe with my paws toward the guards’ arms, and I slash open one of the shooter’s main arteries.

His arm gushes blood as he crumples to the ground.

The second shooter’s barrel is too long to hit me from up close, so he pulls out a sonic knife.

I can hear it vibrating the moment he draws the weapon. He slashes quickly, giving me little time to react.

I shift back to Marauder form. His blade slashes the empty air where my huge bear’s body once stood, and I slam my fist into his jaw so hard that it cracks. I feel the jaw slide and break off against my fist, and I grab the gun out of his hand before he drops it.

I will the armor back to encase my body, and the dispersed fragments that deflected the bullets race toward me as if magnetized. Then I see a teal sphere–Anya inside of it–rolling out the door to my room and down the hallway toward me.

The armor melts away from her and attaches back onto my body.

It burns too much energy to keep Anya shielded remotely. I’ll be completely depleted before we can make our escape if I keep her enshrouded, and I need her to be able to see so that we can get away.

“What’s–” I start to say, but she cuts me off.

“We have to get out of the palace, now.”

“Which way?”

She looks both ways, hesitates for a few moments, and then points in the opposite direction of the shooters.

I form a thick, handheld shield, and give it to her.

“This will stop bullets, but only from the front. I will protect your back.”

She takes the shield and begins to lead the way.

I keep my ears and nose open as we move down the hall, and every few seconds I check our flank.

“My father is dead,” she says, voice quivering. “Venus is surrendered. Bahamut has taken over the palace, but it’s not public knowledge...yet. We have a short window of opportunity to get the fuck out of here.”

We turn the corner to find one of the guards standing right there in front of us.

I raise the rifle toward the guard, but Anya slams the shield into the barrel and pushes the gun away from him.

“Donovan,” she says, giving me a look that says I shouldn’t shoot this one.

I watch his hands nonetheless; any sudden movement and I’ll take him down.

“Tsarevna,” he says. “What’s–”

“Donovan,” Anya says. “You have to do exactly as I say. No questions.”

“But–”

“No questions!” she repeats. “Take us to a car, a fully automated one that isn’t part of the palace’s network.”

He nods and starts to move swiftly down the hallway, and we follow.

I begin to understand. This man has no real rank or choice. When Bahamut takes control of the palace, Donovan will have to do exactly as he orders. If he knew this, would he still help us? Anya isn’t going to risk finding out.

“All the private cars are on the ground floor,” Donovan says. “It will take a lot longer to reach–”

“No,” I cut in. “Take us to the nearest window.”

“Aegus,” Anya says. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Donovan turns sharply on his heels and takes us in the opposite direction.

I see a faint light pouring through a window as we turn the corner, and just as we near it, I hear footsteps stomping from the way we just came.

“Get behind me,” I shout to both of them.

Donovan ignores me and raises his gun toward the corner. I consider swatting him back, but the extra firepower may be useful.

A grenade flies out from around the corner, but before it can hit the ground, I form a long arm from my armor, grab the grenade mid-air, and toss it back around the corner.

I hear it bounce against the wall one time, and then surprised screams and grunts cry out right before the grenade explodes.

Dust and debris blast out onto the floor in front of us, and I see a few bloodied and severed fingers as well.

“They’re dead,” I say, sniffing to be sure.

“Who are dead?” Donovan shouts, turning the gun toward me.

I snatch it out of his hand before he can pull the trigger.

“Donovan,” Anya says. “My father was killed by the Imperials–by Bahamut–we can help you escape, or you can pretend you never helped us...it’s your choice.”

“I’ll stay here,” he says. “I assume you’re coming back? I can be your man on the inside.”

Anya starts to shake her head, but I cut in and say, “That is very useful. They won’t believe you didn’t help us unless you appear to have fought.”

Slow realization creeps across Donovan’s face, and I slam the butt of the rifle into his head before he can feel any pain.

“Aegus!” Anya says.

“The bruise will be proof enough,” I say. “No one saw him helping us.”

I slam the window with my armored elbow, shattering it open. I look out to see it’s about a forty-story drop to the ground below.

“The cars are down here, yes?” I ask.

“Yes,” Anya says, “That’s right near the parking–”

I grab her and jump out the window, clutching Anya tight in my arms.

My armor blasts hundreds of small tendrils downward at full velocity. They will hit the ground several seconds before we do. They harden, but not enough to become fully rigid.

The hundred tendrils press back up against me, beginning to slow my descent.

By the time we are a dozen or so meters from the ground, the tendrils have slowed the fall enough that I let them break away. I slam heels first into the ground, falling into a low crouch still holding Anya safely in my arms.

The tendrils pull back into my armor, but I begin to feel hunger tearing away at me.

I left the container of antimatter back in my room. I was going to show it to the Tsar after dinner, but now I’ve had no food
or
antimatter, and my suit is on its last legs.

Anya takes only a few seconds to register the shock of having jumped out of a forty-story window. She turns toward the garage and points.

When we near the gate, the guard leaps out of the guard post and holds his gun up at me.

“Stand down!” Anya shouts. “I order you.”

“You’re not in charge anymore,” the guard says, turning the weapon toward Anya. “I take orders from General–”

I fire a shot right into his heart, and he drops to the ground.

Anya’s eyes widen, but she runs through the gate and waves for me to follow.

I don’t know how to spot a car that is connected to the palace’s network, but Anya seems to know what she’s looking for.

“This one!” she says, pointing to a spherical vehicle with faded paint.

I put my hand to the door handle, and let my suit interface with the car’s computer. This uses much less power than physical attacks, but as drained as the suit is, it takes much longer than it normally would.

As the suit breaks into the car, I keep my eyes peeled, looking around the car in all directions, but no one is coming...yet.

Suddenly the doors open up, and the car’s engine starts.

We both jump inside, and Anya instructs, “Take us to the docking bay!”

“The docking bay,” the car repeats in a breathy woman’s voice. “You can dock your big equipment in my bay
any
time, Anton.”

“Why does the car sound like it is about to have an orgasm?” I ask. “And who is Anton?”

Anya rolls her eyes and laughs. “Anton is a creepy guy that gets turned on by his car, I guess.”

The car lifts off its base, hovering above the pavement before backing out and starting to move toward the gate.

“Mmmm, Anton,” the car says. “The gate is electronically locked. I can’t drive through it. Maybe I can talk dirty to you while we wait–”

I open the door and step out. I put my hand onto the console for the gate, while hefting the rifle in my other hand.

From the corner of my eye, I spot a guard. As soon as he spots us, he raises his weapon.

The rifle is meant to be fired two-handed, but I’m strong and raise it effortlessly with one hand. I fire off a shot, and the guard clutches his arm, the bullet only brushing his skin.

“Shit!” I say. “Wasting ammo.”

I fire again, and this time he goes down.

The suit finally hacks through the console, and tells me that the gate is now unlocked.

“Anton,” I hear the car saying as I get back inside. “Now I can take you anywhere you want to go. Mmmm,
come
back inside me, Anton.”

I jump into the car, and it starts accelerating through the gate. As soon as it passes through, it takes off into the sky.

I turn to Anya, and I see tears streaming down her face.

“I’m sorry, Anya,” I say.

I reach out toward her cheek, and wipe the tear away with my thumb.

“Anton, you brought a real lady into the car? You want to have a threesome–”

I punch the speaker with my other hand, and it breaks open. I tear the wires out until the voice stops speaking.

“I will protect you,” I say. “And help you get revenge.”

Anya looks at me, and though her eyes are glassy through the tears she’s shedding, I can see the solid determination on her face.

“Good,” she says. “Thank you, Aegus.”

I lean closer to her. My lips feel magnetically attracted to hers, and just when I am almost sure she will kiss me back, my stomach cramps up, and I double over in pain.

I grunt as the hunger consumes me, and I feel lightheaded and on the verge of unconsciousness.

“Aegus,” she shrieks with concern, putting a hand on the back of my head. “What’s wrong?”

“The suit,” I say.

I let it melt away, and it compresses into a small sphere barely larger than my knuckle. It attaches itself to my upper arm and becomes dormant, but the hunger barely subsides.

She looks down at my cock, just for a moment, but then locks eyes with me again. “Are you going to die?”

“I need food,” I say, my voice losing strength.

She starts rummaging through the various compartments in the car, and finally throws something back to me.

“Jerky,” I say, looking down at it. “Is that all you humans eat? My brother loves this stuff, but I’m not a huge fan.”

I tear into it, biting half of it off in one bite. I spit the wrapper out and nearly swallow half of the stick whole.