Sway's Demise (12 page)

If she could breathe, she would have screamed. Instead, her mouth opened, contorted in anguish, her teeth painted with blood. Another trample half severed her leg and she jerked uncontrollably. Another stomping claw ripped her left hand apart, three fingers dangling limply as she tried to move the arm to her chest. They should have shot the remaining citizens, not wasted bullets on the unstoppable devastation.

Soon, the trampling became background noise, the shadows of enemies long ago. Her body was cold, and numb, unwilling to respond to her mind’s commands. She tried to pull in breath, but it was like trying to fill a vacuum that was sucking the oxygen out the bottom.

“Xander.” She used the last of the air in her throat to speak. He was there beside her, head mangled, brain matter spread over the concrete. She didn’t think it would be that bad. It would only hurt for a short time, she’d said to Dymtre. How wrong she’d been. The torture seemed to go on for eternity, the ache unbearable as she failed to fill her burning lungs.

Kill me, please, someone,
she silently begged. A distant explosion rang out, fire filling the night sky to the west.

She only had to endure another minute or two. She would suffocate soon, and then, she’d be with her mother again, and her father. She would be with Dymtre, and Isla. She could be with Reese. They wouldn’t make it, couldn’t. How could they escape that herd? It was only a matter of time, and they would all succumb. Humanity snuffed out.

Her remaining fingers clawed at the ground, finding her .22 pistol. Sweet salvation was so near, if she could just raise it to her head, it could all be over. Weakly, her arm moved to her chin, but she hadn’t the strength to pull the trigger.
Come on Sway, you’ve got more than this!
With everything she had, she clicked it back.

Chapter 10: The future derailed

They fired from the open carts as Priyon streamed around them from every direction. The train lurched and slowed as they broke through the community wall, and the enemy gained. The young boy wailed in the corner and Vendum cooed him, “It’s all fine, quiet now. They need to concentrate.”

Eli’s L96 clicked empty, and he dropped it to the floor of the car, retrieving the Barretta from the back of his pants.
I’d never leave you,
his own voice taunted him as Sway’s face flashed in his mind.

They passed into the tunnel, a brief reprieve from the forthcoming destruction, and they took a second to compose themselves in the darkness. Doused in moonlight once more, the Priyon shrieks reminded them of their fate.

Reese shouted over the scraping of metal wheels on the track, “Who’s got a spare mag of 556!”

“Last one!” Fabel tossed it his way, then with a growl, “Make it count everyone!”

Like they needed to be told. Every successful kill was their survival, every wasted shot, damnation.
And you know I’d never leave you behind. You’re my sniper.
Her voice tormented him. He abandoned her. He should have died with her.

The train jostled. Then again, even harder, and a snap rang out. Leandra held tightly to the door and peered backwards. “They’re pushing the cars over!”

The crying boy descended into hysteria, holding tightly to Eli’s robotic friend as he attempted to leave the child. “I have to get them back upright on the tracks!” Vendum wrenched the child’s grip from his arms.

Eli poked out the north side of the cart, and fired with care towards the back, clearing the enemy away for Vendum. They leapt at the sides of the train, clinging with anything they had. Why were they so desperate to kill them? Why now? What had they done?

His eyes teared as the wind whipped through his unruly blonde hair. Vendum reached the last boxcar, and with one leg against the second to last, which was halfway off the tracks itself, he corrected it.

A terrifying sound like the roar of an angry waterfall flew overhead. “Priyon aircraft!” Richard shouted, pointing towards the light in the sky, only meters off the south side of the train.

“Shoot it down!” Fabel yelled, taking aim at the bottom of the craft.

The bullets seemed to have no effect, dissolving into brilliant neon purple puffs as they reached the hull of the ship.

“It’s protected by something!” Reese shouted as everyone disengaged.

Eli looked back to the end cart, and screamed for Vendum to hurry. Perhaps he could do something, take it out of the air with the link he shared with all other human technology, or jump on it and rip it apart. Eli’s mind flailed with wild, frantic thoughts as the impending annihilation of what might be humanity’s last chance grew nearer.

A new sound dominated all others. The high-pitched whine shook the air, and Eli instinctively put his hands to his ears, dropping the Barretta. Wicked shadows danced over the hillside against the pines as a blinding white light illuminated the night.

Suddenly, all was silent. He took a deep breath, watching as the shadows lengthened. The light was moving. Eli’s eyes darted to the front, unable to look away as the globe of fiery destruction shredded their last hope of survival.

Explosions boomed ahead, and the train became erratic. The cart tipped as he groped for the door, but just missed. His feet flew up over him and he stared back at the boxcar he was departing as Eli’s cell, the last of his family, hurtled towards the lake on the other side.

Dirt flew as he tumbled, unable to make out what was up and what was down. Skidding to a halt face down, he made to cry out, but discovered he couldn’t. His head swam, and a ringing in his hot ears began to throb. His broken limbs, bruised abdomen, and ripped flesh refused to move at his command.

“Fuck you!” A voice, Leandra’s voice, came through the pounding in Eli’s head. He ordered his body to stand, to do anything, but managed only a wiggle as he panted into the cold ground.

Leandra’s 50 rang out twice more, and then it was silenced, but she wasn’t. She screamed, but it was unlike anything Eli had ever heard. The terror in her shrill turned his stomach and he tried again to sit himself upright.

“Mom! Ah! No, please! Mom, help me!”

“Le–dra,” he tried, but his mouth filled with bitter earth.

Her wails wound down into whimpers as the marching of Priyon feet faded into the distance.

Time was lost to Eli, and when he finally rolled over with a yelp, the moon had long since descended the sky. The fire of the train wreck was a low burn, mirrored by the pink on the horizon.

The sky twirled counter-clockwise, then snapped back, over and over. The dim remaining stars zagged and popped, turning Eli’s stomach with nausea. Taking a shallow breath, he looked right. Half of the train was in a mangled heap, metal jutting out in every direction. The other half stuck out of the lake, partially submerged. The morning was still, as if nothing at all happened.

No Priyon, no ship, no humans.

Just Eli.

He lifted his hands above him, surprised to see every finger present, and not bent in unnatural angles.

“What does it matter?” he whispered, tears gathering as a lump swelled in his chest. Devastation immobilized him, freezing his aching heart as he cried into the frosty air.
I’m the last.

“No!” he shouted to the great, deep blue expanse above.

“Fuck!” he rolled to his feet, ignoring the signals of a broken leg. “Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” Rational thought left him as he gripped dirt and stone, throwing it in any direction. The limp, dragging foot caught on a root, flinging him to the ground once more.

He screamed until his throat was raw, but no Priyon came. Nothing could hear him, not even God. Weak, he allowed sleep to take him again, praying he would die.

Thirty-fourth of Belk, the Eighty-fourth year of D’Mjak

The invasion is complete. Scattered populations of Humans still exist, but they are so small and difficult to locate, it could take us another twenty cycles to complete the clean up. I suggest we release the clearing agent, and allow time to take care of our remaining issues.

His mind raced for a moment. Humans had been one of the more difficult species they’d encountered, so resilient. Could the few thousand left cause problems for them? Maybe. But he was willing to bet the Pesciten wouldn’t mind having a few around for experimentation, or entertainment.

He continued into the monitor,
We patiently await your decision,
then cut the feed. The message would arrive in a few hours, and then he would have his response in a few more. The Priyon wandered aimlessly outside the craft, having nothing more to do.

Bedelcast’s screen blinked in notification of an incoming live message, and he switched on the display with a flick. It was Rokar’Ih, the grid six battle commander, over the north-eastern continent. “Have you sent the request?” She asked, her pale complexion looking green in the dimness of the ship cabin.

Sucking a deep breath of Earth air, he nodded, “I have, just now.”

Her forehead wrinkled, the flaps of her tall Yimja ears turning a bright shade of pink. “Why the holdup?”

“There were some final matters to attend to, and some readings to verify. Grid eleven was particularly difficult to deal with.” He lied. The real reason was he was trying to devise a way to spin their incomplete success into an actionable disassembly of the army.

Rokar’Ih grunted with a grin, “Having troubles with the little insects, were you, Bedelcast?”

“Insects,” he scoffed, knowing she meant the Humans, and not the Priyon. Rokar’Ih held no respect for the living things not part of The Coalition—even still, held no respect for some of those which were. But she held a particular disdain for the Priyon: their war tools. Worthless, mindless,
insects
, she considered them.

Bedelcast continued, “Yes, they were clinging to life most desperately. I almost felt bad for ripping it away from them.” Another lie. He did feel bad. More importantly than their lives, he’d taken their dreams.

“Almost,” She leered, “how very gentle. Interesting they made
you
Lead Battle Commander in Plynk’s stead, especially after your mate’s tragic accident. Why is it you didn’t return home for their burning ceremony?”

His throat was ashen dry, the heat in his gut turning. “How is it that you came to be aware of my mate and child’s incident?”

Her eyes circled, thinking of a lie. “You know how it is, Bedelcast. We’re all lonely without someone to talk to. The other battle commanders couldn’t help but confide in me the information they felt so horrid about.”

But Bedelcast had not shared the information of Felxak and Lym’s deaths with anyone. Not a damned soul. Not even his father.

He smiled kindly and said, “I do understand. As for the Lead Battle Commander position, I believe they admired my dedication to the cause. This war was a delicate matter, with few resources, and they needed someone diligent–
effective
–to lead the fight.”

Her pointed ears twitched at this, turning an even brighter shade than before. “I suppose you’re used to making do with nothing, coming from a family as
insolvent
as yours.” She was resorting to lineage blows, and Bedelcast smirked.

“Indeed, coming from destitution to exoneration is quite an accomplishment. Thank you for reminding me of my lowly birth, it makes the rise to heroism that much more inspiring.”

Her entire face went purple, looking sickened against the green glow, then her thin cheeks sloped into a frown, “Yes well, see you on the other side.”

The transmission cut immediately. A special smugness drowned the feelings of anger inside him. Bedelcast had won yet another battle, the war with Rokar’Ih turning in his favor.

With nothing to do except wait, he took to the outdoors and walked the perimeter for some time. Disrobing entirely, he let the icy breeze coming off the lake blow through him. The smoke of the evening escapades was but a wisp, a hint, at his distance. He let the thoughts of those humans fill his mind.

They fought so valiantly. Had he not intervened, they would have escaped. A military force of that size would have caused significant troubles for weeks to come, especially with the inclement weather. His green eyes narrowed on the approaching clouds. They were far enough away to not worry him. Yet.

Something nagged, some feeling of remorse. Did he pity them? He thought not, but perhaps. No. It must be reverence. They, who were so like himself with how little they had, hanging on for so many years.

Had they not lied to the humans about The Darkness, about rebuilding, they may have overcome their forces and won. At least, they could have won the first invasion. The Pescitin would have sent another. They wouldn’t let a Yolm’ah like Earth go to waste on a primitive race like the humans.

He dipped into the water, frigid ripples working their way up his leg to his groin, into his gut. Chills shivered through him as he stepped deeper into the water. Several of the Priyon wandered into the shallows, lifting each leg for a few seconds, as if not wanting to touch the water.

Bedelcast chuckled, “You’re not mindless at all, are you?”

One’s mandibles chattered as it stepped deeper into the water, ignoring its instincts, and the temperature. The Priyon detested the cold, incapable of surviving in it for too long. Had the snow arrived any sooner, they would have retreated, tried again for the north in the spring.

He backstroked deeper and stared into the sky. It was such a beautiful place. And they’d stolen it. They stole everything. A dim beeping pulled him from thought and his eyes darted to the ship. A response that fast?

Bedelcast swam to the edge and shook off, pulling the suit on over his drenched skin. The Priyon followed from the freezing water with haste. He assumed they followed him into the water as protection. He assumed a lot of things about the Priyon. Not having an
ambassador
of his own, as the humans called them, he could not ask. They simply took orders from Bedelcast’s ship.

His bare feet pattered up the metal ramp and into the cabin. Taking the only seat, he flicked the message into view.
Thank you for your detailed report Battle Commander Bedelcast. We have reviewed, and are pleased to inform you the disassembly of the army can take place effective immediately. Colonization crew is inbound, ETA fifteen lema.

So soon? It was only half an Earth day. Someone must have been vying for the new utopia. Which house, he wondered?

The woman continued,
You are hereby relieved, if you wish. We are requesting you release the clearing agent from all twelve command vessels, to ensure there are no remaining Priyon when the colonization crew arrives.
She paused, but then added with a broad smile,
Great work, Commander.

Bedelcast sat back, chewing on his finger, then glanced at the restless Priyon. The colonization crew must have already been underway for days. They’d been banking on Bedelcast’s last report that he could have the humans under control by that day. With heavy remorse, he leaned forward and clicked the record button.

“Battle commanders, we’re to release the clearing agent effective immediately from all ships. Please report back in when you’ve completed the final task. We’re free to return to the jump ship once it’s done. Lead Battle Commander Bedelcast out.”

It was sent out using the human satellites to transmit the order. Those metal orbiting conveniences made coordinating the fight that much easier. They were in constant communication, and didn’t need to deploy any of their own solutions. How silly could they be! Bedelcast wondered. They’d told the humans about
The Darkness
and they hardly questioned, not even considering the fifty kilotons of technology swarming around their Earth.

The pain of his deceit took a new toll on his mind as he thought of the Priyon: helpless, obedient slaves. They would suffer most of all. It happened every time. They would unleash the Priyon on a populated world, allow them to wreak havoc, destroy the indigenous population, and then their obedience would end in their death. All for The Coalition. All for their greed.

He prepped the clearing agent, which was targeted specifically at the Priyon’s unique genome. If only they could do that for the creatures they found abroad. It would be fast, painless, at least, he thought. What did it feel like to be demolecularized? Bedelcast had no idea. Perhaps it wasn’t painless.

Several of the other battle commanders were checking in, ready to release the agent. He gave them the go ahead, looking back one last time to his faithful, unfaltering army. He set the countdown timer on the release, a few more moments, he thought, that’s all he wanted
.

Bedelcast walked among them, touching one here and there. They would rear, but allow his hands to fall on their carapace. They trusted him, he thought as he touched one for far longer than he normally would. The timer beeped from the ship, reminding him of their imminent death.

He charged back up the ramp, disabling the dispersing agent. He could inoculate just a few, just the faithful. There’s nothing wrong with keeping Priyon, they’re perfectly harmless to those they obey—he needed to know, again, which ones truly believe in him. Obeying not because they were told, but because they loved him, their leader.

Grabbing a syringe, and a case of gene altering vials, he treaded into the water again. Twenty-three followed him into the shallows, and so he swam farther. Soon, his feet no longer touched the sandy earth, and he floated. Four of the Priyon tried desperately to keep up, their dense shells dragging them down as they floundered.

“You are the faithful.” The notion of prophecy filled his mind. A battle commander with Priyon elite. Survivors—obedient and loyal. He swam back, inoculating all four from the destruction of their race.

They seemed to understand, to know somehow, and followed him to the cabin of the ship, even enter, which none had done before. He released the agent, an invisible gas, and the Priyon began breaking apart into red ash.

Bedelcast’s Elite did not flinch, following every move he made. He walked about the disintegrating creatures. A great disdain of himself blossomed as he laid waste, yet again, to another sentient race.

Felxak
, he thought as he ran his fingers through the streams of life making their way skyward,
I know you were never fond of what I did. Perhaps that’s why you were trying to hide yourself from me, you and Lym. But what if you weren’t? What if it was like you said, the Pescitin were controlling me? What if—what if they killed you on purpose, to separate us forever. To make me
their
slave.

It was all apparent to him, laid out like a grand opera. Felxak was the only thing holding him back. Felxak was the only thing keeping Bedelcast from Lead Battle Commander.
I should have listened to you,
his shaking hand turned to a fist.

The Priyon yelped. Had they done that before? Could they feel it? Still, his Elite cared not for the destruction of their own kind. They cared only for him, for Bedelcast.
Felxak,
the last of his army evaporated, but the four.
I will do right by you, by the humans, by my house and lineage, the Arrodans. I will be their bane. The Coalition will fear my uprise, my retribution.