Syn-En: Plague World: The Founders War Begins (17 page)

“We’ll make a copy and begin our own research.” Groat’s mandibles peeled away from the rebreather. “We’re the Founders’ muscle. Nothing stands between us and them. And if we decide we don’t need them...”

Tridit’s chuckle was dry as sandpaper. “‘Bout time someone realized that.”

“Are you in?” Not that Groat doubted it.

Tridit had an ambitious wife and three expensive offspring to outfit in their first armor. “I have a list of cowards who might not support you. As a show of my allegiance, I could eliminate their arguments.”

“For the cause.” Groat slammed his fists on the armored shoulders of his fellow Scraptor.

“For the greatest cause.” Tridit pounded back.

The impact rippled down Groat’s body. What his comrade lacked in updates, he made up in strength. He cleared the last branch.

Two Humans stood by the stream running through the clearing. A third leapt over the edge. A splash and cheer quickly followed.

A Human male blinked before striding forward. “Welcome. I—”

Groat speared him through the mouth. Warm liquid gushed around his appendage.

The other Human, a female, screamed.

Tridit pounced upon her. Limbs flew as he snipped them off with his pinschers. When he plucked out her eyes, she fell silent.

Lifting the Human off his feet, Groat slashed and chopped a little at a time. Bone snapped with nary a protest. Flesh sliced off. Soft tissue shredded. Blood painted the grass and clawed red fingers toward the river. The new armor performed better than expected.

Perhaps, he’d try it on the Syn-En before he left.

Tridit punted the female’s head into the water. “I think they should join their friends.”

Groat batted the larger pieces into the stream but left the sticky bits in piles on the grass. “Come. Let us finish our mission before we indulge ourselves further.”

Bei paused at the edge of the meadow. Something was not right. He enhanced his vision. Fermites danced over the yellow and purple wildflowers, pollinating them in the absence of insects. A field of golden grain swayed at the black base of the obelisk. The top of the pillar nearly pierced the gray clouds. Rays of sunshine spotlighted patches of the field.

Doc plunged ahead. Davena and Apollie followed close behind. After the three kilometer trek, Bei knew nothing about the biologics’ records, but far too much about Doc’s trepidation to seduce Davena.

Pushing aside the sheaves of wheat, Nell stopped and faced him. “What is it?”

“I thought I heard something.” He replayed his memory files and amplified the sound. His skin crawled at the lack of animal life.

Releasing the grain, his wife stomped back to his side.

He tuned her out and buffered against the sounds their group made. In the distance, he picked up voices and laughter.

And a scream.

The laughter and voices hushed.

The scream continued, then stopped abruptly. A death sound.

Bei’s armor hardened. Starflight 1
return to base camp
. Starflight 2
rendezvous at the pillar to collect a very important package. Priority one
.

Both pilots acknowledged the emergency order and issued their ETA to the second.

Ten minutes too long. In this field they could be picked off easily. His wife could die.

Nell’s skin shimmered to silver. She scampered to his side and placed her back to his. “What is it?”

“Someone is in distress.” He marked the time code and recalled his position. Activating the audio sensors in his NDA, he marked the general location then projected a topographic map of the probable area. Too many square kilometers to search. He pinged Doc.

“This is like paradise. There’s nothing on this planet to cause distress.” Her fingers lengthened into blades. “Nothing except the colony, us and...”

“Scraptors.” Bei finished her sentence just as the others emerged from the wheat field.

“Why couldn’t the Bug-uglies wait the nine days they gave us to evacuate? What could be so important?”

That was the question. Bei didn’t like the answers he formulated.

Doc scratched his black goatee. “I picked it up as well.” He flipped open the compartment on his forearm and fingered the bandages, drugs, and assorted syringes packed inside. “I can handle one, maybe two patients until the shuttle arrives with more supplies.”

Bei overlaid Doc’s assessment with his own. With their signals less than ten meters apart only the edges of the search area shrunk. “We need to find them. Fast.”

Apollie gathered her braids in a single ponytail behind her head and bound it with a flower stem. “I know some Human first aid.” She wiggled her hips, shifting the equipment belt. “And I have more supplies.”

The Skaperian could cover ground as fast as Doc. With a thought, Bei shifted his ocular implants to project the topography of the targeted area. “We’ll spread out. Ten meters apart and proceed to these hills.”

The forest prevented him from detecting any Human or Scraptor heat signatures.

“Wait!” Nell spun on her heel and faced him. Her bladed arms glinted in the sunshine.

Bei swallowed the curse words on his tongue.

She rolled her eyes. “No, I don’t want to go with you. I may be willing to take on the evil elf, but I haven’t the skills to fight a Scraptor.”

“Fight?” Davena’s caramel skin paled. “You have brought violence to my world?”

After sealing his forearm, Doc rolled his shoulders. “The Founders keep their worlds with violence. This is
their
world and they want it back, without your people on it.”

Retreating a step, Davena clutched the neckline of her black robes. “Surely these Founders wouldn’t...”

“They would and more.” Apollie unhooked the sickle from her belt. Her raptor claws on her middle toes dug into the rich loam. “What did you hear?”

“A scream.” Bei didn’t elaborate. He trusted the Skaperian would understand what was unspoken.

Davena shook herself. “Someone is hurt then. I will go and—”

As the blade melted away, Nell hooked her arm through the oracle’s. “We will stay here. You will show me the pillar while we wait for one of my husband’s shuttles to pick us up.”

“But...” Davena raised her hands to shoulder height and flashed her palms at the cloudy sky. Fermites formed a glittering haze around the two.

Bei pinned his wife with a glare. She was at her most dangerous when she was being cooperative. “Doc has the training to heal your people. We’ll bring them back to you.”

Or whatever was left of them.

After making sure his rifle was secured, Bei gripped his sidearm. “Ready?”

Doc and Apollie nodded.

“Wait.” Nell blew her bangs out of her eyes and stuck her free hand in the hologram. “Davena, is there any place over here where your people might hang out?”

Bei nearly swallowed his tongue. He should have thought of asking for intel, especially as his tech was proving unreliable.

Davena’s jet curls bounced as her attention shifted from the projection to the horizon and back again. “There is a waterfall and pool where our unattached men and women like to court. They perform acrobatics to prove their worthiness as a mate.”

A smile curled his wife’s lips. “Can you show us where this waterfall is, and what path your people might take?”

Biting her lip, the oracle circled an area on the west-facing cliff. “The pool is here, and they would travel toward us to return home.”

Nell released Davena, rose up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to Bei’s cheek. “Be safe. All of you.”

Davena glanced at Doc before studying her bare feet. “May the benevolence of the Meek surround and protect you.”

Fermites swarmed toward them at her blessing.

Switching off his topographical projection, Bei sprinted across the field. His arms pumped faster, his legs kept pace. The grain field parted before him, clearing a path. Maybe the fermites had their good uses.

Apollie sprang like a cricket on Bei’s right. Doc pushed his upgrades to their limit to keep up.

Time counted down inside Bei’s skull. He monitored the
Starflights
’ transmissions, synced his internal clock to the shuttles’ ETAs. The ship’s transponders pinged his cerebral interface as they cleared the horizon.

Eight minutes.

Bei burst from the wheat field. The grain stalks closed behind him, concealing his path.

That healing property would make tracking the enemy difficult.

And he would track the enemy. Ridges ran down his arms. If Groat wanted to test his armor, Bei would happily oblige.

Between the field and the forest, the grass melted into bare ground before them. Tree branches dissolved in a burst of glitter.

Doc pointed the muzzle of his TorpSK7 at the foliage. “That could come in real handy.”

Apollie moderated the height of her leaps to avoid the remaining limbs. “Provided it fights at our side.”

“Indeed.” Bei’s armor shifted to black and gray, blending with the dappled forest. Control of the fermites might be too powerful for any single species to possess. He certainly wouldn’t trust this faith in the Meek to insure the atomic pests were only used for Humanity’s benefit.

Humanity had abused its power before.

“We need to find a means to neutralize the fermites.” Only then would he rest easy.

Apollie snorted. Her pale skin turned her into a wraith ghosting through the forest shadows. “Once we discovered them in Humans, we tried to adapt them into a vaccine for the Plague. Nothing our scientists devised worked.”

Doc requested permission for an adrenaline boost. “Did you know what they were capable of?”

“No.” Apollie gulped air. “We didn’t know they could do this. I don’t know if anyone will believe it, when I tell them.”

Five minutes in and the pace was beginning to take its toll. Bei authorized the boost of adrenaline for Doc. He couldn’t help the Skaperian, but knew she wouldn’t give up. Splashing sounded to the right. Bare feet pounded. Six sets. Seven. Four klicks away.

“Ten o’clock.” Doc veered first.

Apollie followed, maintaining the distance between them. “Any chance you can enhance my hearing. I feel like I’m missing all the fun.”

“Your people don’t approve of synthetic upgrades.” Bei dialed down his auditory sensitivity. Two people yelped.

A man shouted. “We’re trapped!”

Bei thumbed the power setting on his weapon to maximum. “Eliminate the threat. Extreme force authorized.”

Apollie flicked her wrist. The handle of her sickle extended fully. She hunkered lower and picked up speed. “Save some red meat for me.”

The Scraptor’s red armor would make them easy to find. Bei activated his targeting centers. Crosshairs bobbed in front of him.

The vegetation flattened in a sparkling carpet. It ended in a wall of interlocking branches. The trees lining the path leaned away.

“Looks like we’re going to have to leap it.” He gauged the height. Six-point-five meters. He might reach the top and scramble over.

Apollie bit her lip. “I’ll need a boost.” She pointed to a branch three meters off the ground on Bei’s right. “Switch?”

Powering forward, he crossed in front of her.

“I’ll take your idea and see your technique.” Doc altered course, eying a branch on his side. A green diag beam shot out of his wrist and swept the barricade. “Be careful on your dismount. There are biologics on the other side.”

Bei shunted power to his legs. Targeting sensors calculated the best spot to make his leap. He hit the sweet spot, crouched, and jumped.

Apollie planted the tip of her scythe handle in the ground and launched herself at the branch.

Doc vaulted up, caught his branch and spun on it like a gymnast. He released it at the correct trajectory and flew feet first toward the wall.

Bei switched power to his arms. The top of the barricade slammed into his chest. Branches splintered at the impact. Blades jutted from his boots and he dug in. His fingers shredded bark before finding purchase. He heaved himself up.

Below, the biologics gasped and scrambled backward. Open mouthed, they stared at him.

Doc cleared the barricade. “Look out below.”

Two shirtless men dove to the side. A woman in a curve-hugging red tunic dragged another out of the way.

On his right, Apollie sailed over. She swung the blade of her scythe at the wood. It sunk in with a thunk and gouged a trail down the wood as she used it to slow her descent.

Bei swung his legs over and dropped straight down. He increased the mass of his boots to speed up his descent. “Last one dirtside buys the beer.”

His landing planted him three-inches in the ground. His prostheses absorbed the shock. No damage registered. He liked his new upgrades.

Doc collapsed in a crouch when he touched down. Shaking mud and grass from his hands, he straightened. “Looks like the featherhead is buying.”

Apollie jerked her scythe free and dropped the last half meter. Her red eyes sparkled with a challenge. “I’ll buy a round, but it won’t be beer. No Human I’ve met could handle a shot of Queril.”

Doc snorted. “I’ll take two shots of Queril.”

The natives condensed in a ball of quivering flesh.

Damn. The biologics had learned fear. Stuffing the gun in its holster, Bei held his hands loosely at his side. “We are here to help. Davena sent us. Where is the threat?”

The crowd shifted. A woman in blue wiggled to the outside of the pack. With a shaking arm, she pointed to the lagoon.

Doc widened the blade of his green diagnostic beam. “I’ve got blood and...” His nostrils flared. “remains.”

Damn. Damn. Damn. They were too late. Bei had known but he’d hoped. In vain. The Scraptors would pay. He marched toward the pond. Red swirled in the blue water. A severed arm spun like the needle of a compass. Female from the look of it. “How many casualties?”

“There are enough pieces for two.” Doc switched from the pool to the biologics.

Apollie rushed forward and hurdled the pond. Her raptor claws hooked the vines near the waterfall. She tugged a hunk of thigh off a rock ledge. “Scraptor pinscher wounds.” She tossed the piece at Doc. “The attack must have happened up top.”