Liminal space shadows an.., p.36
Liminal Space (Shadows & Light Book One), page 36
“I did, I absolutely did. There also happened to be a wonderful side benefit, which I enjoyed immensely. But it wasn’t fair to you.”
“It was quite fair. I knew full well who you were beneath the disguise.” He sighed quietly. “If anything, I should be apologizing for being so shallow as for your appearance to make such a great difference in my…physical response to you. Especially now that I’ve been to your amazing space station and visited several of your worlds. You live amongst this incredible variety of life, and you all see one another not as alien or ‘other,’ but as individuals.”
His focus dropped to his lap. “I’m ashamed of my narrow, primitive provincialism. Yet I can’t manage to escape it.”
She wanted so badly to take his hand again, but it was a terrible idea. “Don’t be. I was the first non-Belascocian you had ever seen in your life. It took humans a long time to get used to living among aliens. Many of them still aren’t used to it. They stay on human worlds and try to pretend as though the other species don’t exist. I’m only comfortable in our crazy zoo because I grew up in it. I was six years old when we came to Amaranthe and met the other species. I’ve never known anything else.”
She settled for reaching over and giving his hand a quick squeeze, then forcing a hasty retreat. “It’s been an overwhelming few months for you. You’re handling all these new experiences wonderfully.”
“You are kind to say so.” He frowned a little. “What did you mean when you said ‘when we came to Amaranthe’? Amaranthe is simply the universe, yes? So where were you before?”
“Oh. That’s kind of a long story.”
“We have nowhere else to be.”
“Too true. Okay.” Grateful, and also a bit sad, to find they seemed to be moving on from the minefield of sexual tension, she fluffed the pillow at her back and settled in.
Then she told him the story of The Displacement, and how her uncle gave his life to save the world, only to have an appreciative world return it to him.
51
* * *
MSHAK
Marlee awoke to full alertness, something Caleb had taught her how to do when in unfamiliar settings. She lay still and honed her senses.
The ground beneath her vibrated ever so faintly, and if she shifted additional resources to her aural cybernetics, she heard a low rumble in the distance.
She reached over and shook Galean’s arm while whispering, “Wake up.”
His eyes flew open to fix on her. “What is it?”
“Something’s coming.” She stood, retrieved her Daemon and hurried outside, activating her Veil as she did.
A quick three-sixty revealed nothing in sight. But dawn was only beginning to make itself known, and most of the scenery remained cast in deep shadows.
“Marlee? Where are you?” Galean stage-whispered.
She toggled the Veil off and motioned him over. “Stand flush against me, and you’ll be inside my Veil’s circumference. I want to leave yours to hide the shelter.”
He sidled up behind her, half off one shoulder, and she reactivated the device. Adrenaline coursing through her veins kept her attention on the situation and not the delight of his body pressed close. She focused on the sound, tiptoeing in a circle until it grew markedly stronger in her right ear. “The sound is coming from this direction.”
“Should we leave?”
They could, and return once the coast was clear. But what if this was a precursor to the arrival of one of the mysterious ships? They’d miss the entire reason they were here. “Not yet. Nothing can see us. Promise.”
“I believe you. Concord tech has proved itself. But they can hear us, yes?”
“Good point. Let’s switch to silent comms,” she whispered.
The sun crested the horizon to their left, thankfully chasing the shadows away and granting definition to the landscape. A few seconds later, several dark blobs appeared to mar the sun’s advance. The ground was actively rumbling now.
The blobs began to multiply, or rather separate. Ten, twelve…fifteen.
Vehicles.
Based on their angle of approach, they should pass sixty meters or so to her right. Assuming they didn’t shift course. But really, in the middle of this vast expanse of nothingness, what were the odds they would run over the shelter?
About as good as the odds they were passing by at all.
She was able to make out some features now, and they were hovercraft. But they were also emitting an unholy racket, a testament to years of rough use and poor maintenance. And they were overflowing with Ch’mshak; a hundred or more of the aliens were piled into the craft. Spears and battleaxes and other intimidating weapons jutted into the air and out from every side.
This was a raiding party.
When they drew close enough for them to make out the occupants in detail, Galean muttered a curse over the comm. “Madari. They’re monsters.”
Her thoughts exactly. She’d studied all the files from the conflict eleven years ago in preparation for this mission, but she’d never seen a Ch’mshak in person before. As they pulled even with the camp closer to thirty meters away—close enough that her hair ruffled from the air displacement of the stampeding vehicles—she gaped, transfixed.
The Rasu mech that almost killed her on Namino must have been larger and better armed than these creatures, but at this moment she found it difficult to believe. The Ch’mshak stood at least three meters tall and half as wide. They wore shaped armor over tough hides, especially their sturdy barrel chests. Though they stood on two legs, their arms were overlong and nearly as thick as their thighs, suggesting they were able to run on all four limbs. Massive heads sported four eyes, two at the center and one on each side. Long tusks didn’t fit inside mouths framed by disproportionately full lips.
Then they were past the camp, racing away to the southwest. Possibly to the X’khak settlement, based on their heading.
Once they disappeared over the opposite horizon, she collapsed to the ground as every muscle in her body untensed. “Wow.”
“Wow?” Galean joined her on the ground. “I have other words to describe what we just saw.”
“Sure. Me, too. But wow.” She laughed a little wildly. “You know, everyone is always asking me, ‘Marlee, is there anything you’re afraid of?’ Now I think I know. I’m afraid of them.”
After they put away the shelter for the day, Galean prepared a basic breakfast while Marlee paced in a wide circle around the camp, trying to work off her nerves. She one hundred percent believed a mere handful of Ch’mshak had murdered almost two thousand people on a space station. What she couldn’t believe was that Marines had fought these monsters and won a non-zero percentage of the battles.
But not all of the battles. Brooklyn Harper and her squad had died here. The fact the woman had willingly charged into a fortified camp of armed Ch’mshak? It was difficult to conceive of bravery on such a scale. She’d say ‘or foolhardiness,’ but Harper had been following orders.
Aunt Miriam didn’t often talk about the burden of ordering soldiers to their likely deaths, but Marlee knew it weighed on her aunt. And she decided she understood the dynamics at play a bit better, as well as the frustration of it all. Did Harper’s bravery matter in the end? Did her aunt’s burdens? The military losses had led to the quarantine, and the quarantine had kept people safe for over a decade. But now the Ch’mshak were a threat once again, and she sympathized with people like Morgan, who believed those sacrifices had been futile.
“Breakfast is ready.”
She put aside her musings to go sit by the stove opposite Galean. “Thanks for cooking. So, want to go home now?”
He stared at the horizon for so long she expected him to say ‘yes.’ “No. Anything we can do to stop more of those monsters from escaping, we must.”
“You’re a good and honorable man, Galean.”
“Ah, thank you. I try to be.” He lowered his gaze to consider his plate.
They ate in silence, each caught up in ruminations on their close encounter with the enemy. After they finished, she was putting away the stove when Galean abruptly grasped her arm. “Something’s happening.”
She dropped the stove and its bag to the dirt, but squelched the urge to quiz him. He’d tell her what he knew as soon as he knew it.
It only took a few seconds. He spun forty degrees and pointed. “To the north-northwest. Not close, but well within my range. Maybe two-hundred-fifty kilometers.”
“Taking a look.” She slipped into sidespace. A sizeable settlement lay in the correct direction, and she projected her consciousness to it.
A group of six armed Ch’mshak gathered together near a shimmering wormhole. Off to the side stood a human woman. She was tall and noticeably thin, with alabaster skin and pale blonde hair secured in a french twist. The Ch’mshak weren’t attacking her; they weren’t even beating their chests or attempting to intimidate her. There was no ship in sight.
Her breath caught as she realized what was happening: a raiding party of a different kind. This woman was about to send the armed Ch’mshak somewhere offworld, where they were certain to cause carnage and death. She knew there had been several attacks not directly linked to a ship’s arrival, but she’d never imagined they’d occurred in this manner.
So much for not putting herself in harm’s way….
Marlee dropped her consciousness into her body and spun up her Caeles Prism. “Be right back. Stay here.”
“What?”
She opened a wormhole and hurried through it. When no Ch’mshak arrived to attack her, she closed it behind her. She was at the rear of one of the larger buildings in the settlement square; with luck no one had seen the brief glow.
She started to move past the corner—a hand grabbed her arm from behind. She instantly twisted her arm against the grip as she leapt back and swung her leg—
A tail wrapped around her ankle the same instant she realized there was only empty air surrounding her. She stumbled, off balance, as her foot was returned to the ground and Galean set her ankle free. Him and that damnable tail of his!
She’d chide him for following her through the wormhole, but she needed to move fast right now. She felt for his hand and clutched it.
“Come with me.”
They crept around the building until the woman was in view. Marlee zoomed in her ocular implant and snapped a picture, then switched to video for several seconds.
The group of Ch’mshak headed through the wormhole, and the woman followed. Through the opening, she barely made out a rust-colored structure and a cloudy aqua sky.
How many people were about to die?
She wasn’t being reckless. The math was straightforward: a calculated risk of one life that could be renewed for the potential to save many lives that may otherwise end forever.
She dropped Galean’s hand and sprinted forward, willing him to not follow her this time. She leapt through the wormhole and darted to the left to avoid running smack into the woman. By the time she’d pivoted, the wormhole was gone.
She found herself near the entrance to a warehouse with no signage, so she pinged her locator. Then she sent a priority pulse to the one person who was most likely to both open it immediately and be able to do something with the information fast enough to make a difference.
Aunt Miriam, a Ch’mshak squad of six just arrived at a warehouse on Lethe, an Anaden world in Milky Way Sector 56. I’m attaching the precise coordinates.
Now, because she was not actually suicidal, she needed to find a hidden corner and get the hell off the premises. She’d done everything she could for the people here.
A Machim unit is responding. Do you need rescue?
No. Rescuing myself as we speak.
She exhaled in relief. No doubt she had a stern interrogation to look forward to in her future, but her aunt understood how in the critical moment, response time was all that mattered.
The blonde woman gave an order she couldn’t discern, then calmly trailed the Ch’mshak as they stormed into the warehouse. The woman was directing their attack! What kind of person would do such a thing?
Marlee reluctantly turned her back on the scene and slipped around the side of the warehouse into an alley. She glanced in both directions to confirm she was alone, then opened a wormhole back to the settlement.
“Galean, where are you?”
“Behind the building where we arrived. Are you here?”
She didn’t see him anywhere, because he was smart and had his Veil active.
“Deactivate your Veil briefly.”
As soon as he materialized, she ran over and pulled him close, into the radius of her Veil and her into his. Worry animated his whirling, bottomless eyes, and his sentsores were rigid as rods. “That was reckless.”
“No, that was necessary. The military is sending soldiers to the location right away. Lives will be saved.”
“And what of your life?”
“It’s like you said. Anything we can do, we must.”
“Maddening Human. So what now?”
“There’s no ship here. I think we stay and watch.”
It took almost half an hour for the woman and two bloodied Ch’mshak to return. A Ch’mshak wearing a fancier getup than everyone else promptly stormed up to them.
“Where are the rest of my warriors?” he barked.
“We were interrupted,” the woman replied.
“So?”
“They were armed fighters. Machim soldiers, I think. The rest of your warriors were killed or captured.” The woman had a crisp, aristocratic Earth accent. “They didn’t complete the job.”
“Not my concern. Our deal was I send them on the mission, and in return, we get a ship. Where is the ship?”
“They didn’t complete the job.”
“If you want them to ever do another one, you will deliver the ship now.”
The woman glared the Ch’mshak down for several seconds, then gave a curt nod. “Fine. But next time, you will double the size of the squad. I’d have expected your warriors to be able to overpower a couple of soldiers.”
“Do not insult me further, Human.”
The woman pivoted away and strode to a clearing, where there was some distance between the buildings.
Marlee’s gaze rose to the sky in time to see a ship descending through the air. It sported a wide, thick hold, a hallmark of a merchant transport vessel, and appeared to be human made. It settled to the ground a few meters from where the woman stood.
“Marlee, look over here.”
As soon as she turned, she spotted a group of ten Ch’mshak emerging from a building deeper into the settlement, carrying crates and large bags.
They were going to board the ship and leave. And wherever they flew, yet more people would die.
Galean reached out and drew her close against his chest. “We need to disable the ship.”
So good and honorable. “We do. I think if I can get to the engine and pop a panel, I can sever a power cable.”
“You understand your technology far better than I do. But I can guard you while you work.”
She wanted to beg him to stay in the relative safety of the building’s shadow. He didn’t have access to regenesis; if he died here, it was his end. Resamane’s soul would be forever shattered, and her guilt would never fade. But she knew him well, and he wasn’t apt to agree to remain on the sidelines. He’d almost died on dangerous missions twice in the weeks she’d spent with him on Belarria, so he was no stranger to risk and didn’t lack for valor.
“The engines are located underneath the hull, near the stern. We’ll crawl underneath the—crap!” She patted her pockets. “I left my blade at the camp.”
“I do not have one either.”
She scurried around the rear of the building and opened a wormhole to camp. “Grab yours, and hurry!”
He rushed through the wormhole—and she closed it behind him while drawing the blade she most certainly had not forgotten.
The next second she was running across open space toward the ship, grateful all over again for this wondrous technology that kept her hidden from a village full of monsters who would kill her without a thought.
She veered around to the stern as the first of the Ch’mshak arrived and the airlock opened. From there, she dove under the hull, flipped onto her back, and shimmied across the ground until she reached the point where the engine hooked into the rest of the ship.
Everyone used Zero Engines now, even for mass-produced personal craft. But no matter the engine type, it still had to interface with the control system, or else it didn’t know when to fire and when to idle. At least the hull wasn’t constructed of adiamene. Small favors.
In the back of her mind, she acknowledged that Galean had yet to send her any messages. His silence didn’t mean anything good for his mental state, but she’d deal with the fallout after she disabled the ship.
She extended her blade and stabbed it into the rough metal a few centimeters above where the engine began protruding. She tried not to grunt from the exertion as she dragged the blade in an uneven circle until it returned to where she’d began and a jagged chunk of hull fell onto her chest.
She peered at the row of neatly woven fibers she’d exposed, trying her best to ignore the thudding overhead as Ch’mshak tromped around the cabin. She’d give anything for a consult from Alex right about now, because no one knew ships better than Alex, but there wasn’t remotely time.
Ah, well. Cutting pretty much anything should get the job done, right?
She brought her blade up and…wait. Did she want the ship to be grounded, or instead to explode in the air or in space? Screw it, she didn’t know enough about what she was doing to play games. She sliced through the first bundle of photal fibers, then the second—
A hiss filled the air as the airlock closed and sealed. Dammit. She took one final whack at the third bundle of fibers, then rolled out from under the hull, scrambled to her feet and took off running.
Zero Engines were virtually silent, so when she’d cleared fifty meters or so, she risked a peek over her shoulder. The ship was lifting off the ground and rising into the sky. Had she not cut the correct lines? Had this mad stunt been for nothing?
