The four of them came out of the administration center in a clump, weapons pointed out, and faced a ring of insect forms. All except Penn, who was still without a weapon. The man was scrabbling at a helmet, trying to juggle it into place in a hurry, his fingers trembling with anxiety and fear/fear/fear. Grace flicked green ichor from her blade, feeling the sweat on her face despite the cool of the helmet, and said, “Well, now it’s a party.”
Nate gave her a glance and a series of emotions in rapid succession, a mixture of fear/trust/distrust/family/anger/betrayal before he spoke. “We’ve just got to make the spaceport. The dropship. Then we’re good.”
“Uh,” said Kohl, eyes on the skies above.
Grace followed his gaze, saw the trails of fire through the atmosphere. The pinprick bloom of an explosion, something made tiny to her eyes by distance. Something was going on in space, something bad, and the remains of whatever that was were raining through the atmosphere. It’d be suicide to take off. Trying to fly through a sky full of burning rocks was only for the criminally insane.
Nate was tapping at his comm while the Ezeroc chittered at a distance. Unmoving. Grace said, “What are they waiting for?”
Together.
She shook her head to clear it while Nate spoke to the comm. “Tyche, this is Nate. Tyche, there’s fireworks going on up there. Tell me a story.”
No response.
Penn cleared his throat, voice muffled by the helmet. Nate turned to him and said, “Penn? Let me loop you in on our comms channel.” He tapped at his wrist controls.
Penn’s voice came through bright and clear. “The Ezeroc. They’re jamming signals. It’s what they’ve been doing since they came into orbit. But it’s not coming from the asteroid.”
Nate was looking at Penn like he was crazy, but Grace took a step forward. “Orbit?” she said. “There’s no ships out there. Only the Gladiator.”
“The Gladiator is what we call too little, too late,” said Penn. His shoulders were still square, but Grace wondered how long that could last in the face of all the insects ringing them. “Aliens do not build like we do, Grace.”
“Hey,” said Grace. “How do you know my—”
“You said asteroid,” said Nate. “The asteroid is their ship?”
“It is,” said Penn. “We need to move, Captain. I don’t know what they’re waiting for, but it can’t be good.”
Grace.
Grace whirled, but there was nothing there. The Ezeroc still stood around them, a safe 20 meter distance, not getting closer, not getting farther.
“You’re saying,” said Nate, “that their ship is an asteroid the size of a moon?”
“It perplexed us at first too,” said Penn. “It’s why I need to get this data sliver off this world. We need to let the Republic know what kind of enemy they face. The Gladiator didn’t stand a chance. After they cored the hull and took the crew—”
“Hold up,” said Kohl. “What do you mean, ’took the crew?’”
Grace.
TOGETHER.
“Fuck this,” said Grace. She walked towards the spaceport, her sword held in an angry hand. “You guys can talk this out. I’m getting off this rock.”
She was seeing shimmers in the air around — or inside — the Ezeroc. Silhouettes. Shapes, forms, like the outlines of people. She blinked but they images were still there. One of them in front of her reached out a hand towards her, ghostly and insubstantial.
Grace.
Together.
Grace Grace Grace!
Oh my God. She shook her head, feeling sick. She looked back at Penn. “They’re … they used to be people,” she said. “They’re not aliens. They’re people!”
“Only at a carbon level,” said Penn. “They haven’t been people for a long time. The Ezeroc … well, they need the calories.”
“We’re leaving,” said Nate, “and we’re leaving now. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t feel like becoming someone else’s lunch.” He tossed a look at Kohl. “October? Make a path, and make it now.”
Kohl shrugged, pointed the rotary laser, and pulled the trigger. Insects leapt out of the way, scrambling for the walls, windows, rooftops. Kohl was lumbering down the street, laser fire lighting his way. Nate followed, covering his back, blaster picking out targets, Ezeroc getting too close. Grace followed, as did Penn.
“It’s illegal, what you are,” said Penn. Like he knew.
“Let’s talk later,” said Grace, “when there’s nothing but humans, yeah?”
“We could use someone like you,” said Penn. His eyes were on Kohl and Nate as Grace’s crew mates made a path. “But we’d need … an understanding.”
Grace felt the traitor clutch of hope in her chest. You weren’t with this crew anyway. You don’t need them. You need to be free of them. She wanted to say something to Penn, and she wanted to choke down that feeling at the same time. What was happening to her?
An Ezeroc scrambled toward them from the shelter of a crashed car, too close and too quick for Nate’s blaster to pick it off. It was reaching for Penn, and Grace’s sword moved in her hand before she had a chance to think about it. The blade sheared the two fore claws off in quick succession, and she spun the steel in the air to drive it back. It hissed at her, then scuttled away.
Penn was at her back, hand on her shoulder. “Good,” he said. “Good.”
Grace screwed her eyes shut. I hope you know what you’re doing.
But she had no idea. Not anymore.
• • •
“Port is just around the corner,” said Nate, voice clear over the comm. “I’m running low on batteries here.”
“I’m fine,” said Kohl, his voice sounding anything but fine. It sounded weak and clotted, like milk curdled in the sun. His tone made Grace look, and she saw the big man pause firing his laser. Pause, and then just let it fall. The automount pulled it to his back, and the motion caused Kohl to stumble and sway.
“Kohl?” said Nate. “October, talk to me.”
“I’m fine,” said Kohl, and then stretched himself face-first on the street in a clatter of armor.
Grace felt real fear then. Not because Kohl was dead, because he wasn’t. She’d feel it if his soul left his body. No, none of that. She felt fear because Kohl had been doing all of the work.
A hush descended over the street. Grace looked up, saw the Ezeroc looking out from behind makeshift barricades of vehicles, signage, store windows. For all that Kohl had cut a path, killing hundreds of them, there were thousands left. Thousands.
Grace Grace Grace Grace Grace!
Together, Grace.
All the people of Absalom Delta. All the Marines and flight crew of the Gladiator. Oh, she knew what the Ravana had been running from now. She knew what had made them hack their own ship to make a jump a little too far, a little too fast. The Ravana’s crew had figured if they were going to die, they’d die as a warning: there be dragons.
There was a hiss, rising in volume.
“Nate,” said Grace. “Nate.”
“I know,” he said, trying to get Kohl up.
“Nate,” she said. “We have to go.”
“I know!” he said, pulling at the clamps on Kohl’s automount.
“He’s gone, Nate,” she said. It wasn’t true, but Nate didn’t know that. Nate was now their ticket out of here. A good shot, maybe good enough to get them to the dropship. She couldn’t take the Ezeroc on the blade. There were too many.