Burning Sun (SMC Marauders Book 2), page 19
Cronin quieted his thoughts and cleared his mind.
“You are the betrayer of your people. You can never be more in their world. Serve me and we will control the Chrysalis chamber before the Ignari come.”
Cronin launched himself with all of his strength, thrusting with the sword at the heart of the guide. He could not see that it was wearing armor but sensed it.
The tip of his blade struck something hard and slid to one side. The force of his enemy came down like a mountain on his back. He found himself struggling to breathe. Each time he expanded his lungs, he drew only dirt and crystal shards from the fine soil of Siris.
He pushed himself to his hands and knees, and something stepped on his back, driving him down harder than before. One of his smaller arms felt like it had been torn off. Electricity shot down one of his legs.
He twisted to get free, but the force holding him to the ground was immovable. Something struck the back of his head again and again, and then the side, and then the back of his head again. There was no finesse in the attack, only rage.
When at last he was able to roll onto his side and look at his enemy, he saw the Guide summoning all of its hive warriors and following Eigon and Tion toward the city.
I am the Betrayer.
I am the Failure.
I am Cronin, he thought.
Every part of his body ached with pain. He decided it was the best thing to keep away despair. The only one of his lesser arms that had escaped damage was the unmatched thing Amanda called his emotion limb.
He drew a painful breath and screamed. “No!”
His Siren masters and the Guide ignored him, running around the expanding battle to find a way into the city.
He laughed hysterically at the foolishness of Eigon. She was taking the longer route. The Guide would beat her to the Chrysalis chamber.
He stood, leaned on his knees for a moment, and vomited blood. His kind were made for this abuse, not as fast and beautiful in combat as a Siren, but very tough.
What should he do? Where were the human twins? Why had he refused the Guide?
Eigon would be the next Forever Siren and she would put an end to Cronin’s quest for perfection through Chrysalis. His name would be stricken from the light-framed stones of the Diamond Ziggurat.
Dead, even in memory, Cronin’s worries would have never existed.
The Guide offered false hope. It was a thing of lies. Why else would the Forever Siren be a prisoner?
Cronin began to run, thinking many strange thoughts as his heart pumped and his many arms massaged blood from his wounds. The Dream-rider commanded the first Void Creatures to hold the Forever Siren prisoner, not the Guide. The Guide had been cast into the galaxy to feed off lesser races, humans and those like them.
Perhaps Cronin should serve the Guide. Perhaps he could help defeat the Dream-rider and free his people for all time?
His heart shuddered. He tripped, fell, scrambled to his feet, and roared as he ran faster. Nothing could be worse than becoming part of the Darkness that spawned the Guide and the Dream-rider. That way was oblivion.
When he saw the direction he had chosen, he stopped and wept in frustration until he understood his choice.
The Guide and the Dream-rider were a pair of beings, like Ace and Amanda and all those who survived Chrysalis. They had come to Siris long ago and been forced apart lest they conquer the planet.
The Dream-rider was an enemy of the Forever Siren, holding her prisoner and restricting how many Sirens could enter the chamber.
What did this make the Guide but one more alien invader who would do the same thing if it could?
Eigon and Tion saw him and waited. Neither thanked him. They nursed their own injuries.
I must never tell them the Guide offered me immortality, Cronin thought. They would laugh. Only a foolish Nix would fall for such a trick.
But it hadn’t felt like a trick.
“Cronin the Betrayer has survived to plague us another day,” Eigon said.
Tion saluted him with her best sword but in a manner normally reserved for overactive children.
Cronin scooped up two handfuls of soil, dumped them into his mouth, and sucked on the fine crystals. He moaned at the sensation filling his body. His head cleared.
“The Guide has taken the faster way,” he said.
“He has,” Eigon said. “But there is a company of human soldiers in its path. They will slow the evil thing.”
Cronin swallowed his stupidity, then grunted. Amanda would not like his servile attitude. Ace would mock him for admitting he was wrong.
“I am going to find the human twins and fulfill my oath,” he said.
“Damn your oath!” Eigon shouted.
“Enough,” Tion said. “There is only a small opportunity to reach the Forever Siren. We must take it now.”
Cronin fell to his knees and ate more of the dirt, knowing it was a sign he was dying. The minerals of his home world could only sustain him for so long before his wounds brought him down.
Tion helped him up. Eigon led them both into the Diamond Ziggurat.
“Let us enter the sacred home of our people.” The ritualistic words gave him strength. Neither Eigon nor Tion spoke as they made their way to an entrance appropriate for their rank. He wanted to follow but stopped.
Tion looked back. “Come with us, brother.”
Eigon snorted and strode past one of a hundred elaborate doorways reserved for sword saints and heroes of Siris.
Cronin responded to Tion’s invitation without showing his relief. “Eigon shines like the sun in my vision,” he growled. His organic armor constricted rhythmically as they ventured below ground level.
“As she should,” Tion said. “The wisest among us agree she will be the next Forever Siren. They feel she will be able to break free of the prison and offer Chrysalis to all our people.”
“Is it possible?” Cronin asked. The single arm on his back lifted a hand’s width and waved softly.
Tion said nothing.
“You do not agree with the elders?”
Tion ruffled her arms, never taking her eyes from Eigon, who was far ahead of them now. “I hear your pets.”
Cronin listened but could not match the hero’s senses.
“You are dying, Cronin the Betrayer,” Tion said.
“Why are you helping me?” he asked.
“I recognize you.” Tion paused, then looked down two of the hallways intersecting with their path. “The mercenary men — Dbonden and Felton — run after us cursing the Kimberly woman as a stubborn prima donna. “From that direction, I hear the voices of the child human.”
No words came to Cronin. He moved ahead, pain flowing in his veins like a curse. The darkness was too bright. The cold, dank air felt like a furnace. Tion’s revelation was both damnation and salvation. “There is only one way you would recognize me.”
“Cronin!” the human called Ace shouted as he ran through a nexus of passages large enough to be a gathering room with a high ceiling.
“How many cycles was it? How long ago? What did I do?” he asked, ignoring Ace and his sister.
Tion examined her hands. “Maybe I remember wrongly.” She followed Eigon.
Cronin grabbed her.
She sliced off the offending hand. His dark blood made a wet sound as it arced against the wall.
“Cronin!” Amanda-Margaret screamed.
Ace reached him first, stripped off his dirty shirt, and tied it around the wrist of Cronin’s sword arm. He cursed Tion as he worked. “I’m not afraid of you!”
“That is why I find you amusing,” Tion said. “Do not hate me, human. If I am right, the wound will not matter.”
“Help me stand, Ace-human,” Cronin said. Both twins were propping him up before he finished the words. “Listen to my words. There will be a large room with giant creatures guarding the hallways leading toward the Chrysalis chamber. Do not look at them. They will not harm us unless we bring more than a score for Chrysalis.”
“Will they allow us to leave?” Amanda asked.
“Only the Forever Siren is kept in this prison.” Cronin entered a huge room with Ace and Amanda holding his secondary hands. He gripped his stump with his remaining sword arm, sorrow growing inside his body.
The siege guardians were awake and agitated. The monsters strode back and forth, stamping hooves on the stone floors and keening low songs at the edge of hearing.
“It is a Kirin from Mother’s story,” Ace said.
“No,” Cronin said. “I do not know this creature you describe. These are Void Creatures made into images of ancient guardians. It is said they no longer remember their real form.”
“Whatever, Cro. They look like dragon horses,” Ace said. He pulled on Cronin’s arm. “You look like crap.”
Cronin slipped to one knee and dropped his chin to his chest. Images of his battle with the Guide flashed in his head. Red spots pulsed in his vision in time with his heart.
“Cronin, you must continue,” Amanda said.
He forced his legs to work and stumbled forward through the towering herd of siege guardians. The aliens made a forest of sadness that matched his mood. How long has it been since you felt the sun of Siris on your faces? Is this all you will ever be?
The creatures stared at him, ignoring the Sirens and the humans. Snorting, stomping their hooves, the creatures bumped against one another in agitation. If they crowded closer, Cronin would not be able to push past them.
Eigon and Tion moved solemnly into the Chrysalis chamber ahead of him.
Cronin reached the threshold as darkness became light. “Stay close to me. Do not wander from my side unless the Forever Siren calls you.”
“We hear her,” Amanda said. She squeezed Ace’s hand. “I’m scared, brother.”
26
Reunion
THE servo-motors in Lovejoy’s armor groaned as he ran beside Eve. She marched in her Cyclops mech, weapons in stand-by mode — which drove him crazy.
“This is a war zone,” he said.
“I have my weapons on stand-by,” Eve said.
Smoke drifted across the lake. Three of the waterborne artillery craft pounded a hilltop with energy weapons. White-blue streams of artificial lightning streamed from each turret as water was sucked into cooling vents and fountained out that back. The Siren-nix legions moved fast, taking few losses.
UNASPC fighter-bombers turned in the distance for another attack as they dodged surface-to-air weapons powered by organic solar arrays.
Infantry and armored columns sought to outmaneuver the local defenders with mixed results. The ground had a tendency to open under advancing units.
“My weapons are hot,” Lovejoy said.
“Good for you and your weapons,” Eve said. “The battle is over there. I came this way for a reason.”
“Kroger?”
“Correct, Lovejoy.”
“Shouldn’t we have caught up to him by now?”
She stopped.
Lovejoy stopped. “Eve, this is a bad idea. I never trusted Kroger.”
“I trusted him with my life many times before I enlisted.”
His dark visor concealed his reaction, he hoped.
“Think want you want, Lovejoy. This isn’t for me. Kroger didn’t ask for the call,” she said.
“We’ve had this argument before,” he said.
“So stop being an asshole and let’s move,” she said, standing solid as a metal statue. “Kroger had a sister. Put her in the military to protect her from the type of life I found on the street. She had terrible dreams. One morning, he woke up and she had tattooed a small monster on herself that looked like one of these Siren-nix. She was supposed to come to this planet and do something. That’s why Kroger went AWOL. That’s why he came here.”
“What happened to her?”
“She died in an SNC training accident before completing her training.”
He detected movement in the distance behind her and zoomed his helmet optics to see an old Cyclops mech rushing forward. Parts of its armor utilized the chrome exterior setting, other parts were matte black or corroded — which he’d never seen on one of the units.
Sensing the direction and intensity of his gaze, she turned and waited.
Lovejoy wasn’t sure what he had expected — swearing, crying, shooting the tattooed bodybuilder in the face from three hundred yards?
“Give me a minute, Lovejoy,” she said, then opened her mech and climbed out.
He watched her walk for what felt like a long time. War raged over the horizon behind him, and far to his right and left. Space fleets gathered the power of the UNA, CWF, and possibly others above the planet. He imagined he could see them if he looked up, but he didn’t.
Kroger opened his mech like a complicated metal clam shell with legs and jumped out. Lovejoy laughed in delight at the unexpected agility. His smile faded as the figures embraced.
She checked the musclebound, tattooed freak who used to be her pimp from head to toe like she was his mother. They talked and laughed.
Back in lonely-ville, Lovejoy grew bored. His stomach grumbled, so he pulled some calories through his helmet feeding tube, then water through another.
Eve waved him forward.
He went immediately, dignity be damned. She actually cares for him. Don’t be jealous, Lovejoy. Just don’t. He tried to think of Cassandra and nearly wept when her face wouldn’t appear in his imagination.
“Good morning, Lieutenant,” Kroger said. “Not to be rude, but I need to mount up.”
Lovejoy twirled his right hand to indicate the brute should carry on with whatever he was doing, then moved closer to Eve.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“Waiting. Giving me a moment. Not acting like a jealous school boy,” she said.
“I’m an expert at hiding my emotions,” he said.
She laughed.
The sound sent a wonderful shiver up his spine. For a moment, he was as happy as he had been in many long years. Then he felt more than considered her past and wanted to kill people for the wrongs done to her.
Kroger stomped in a circle, Cyclops gears whining and popping when he moved his arms along certain planes of movement.
Lovejoy and Eve watched him.
She shook her head as though her mentally deficient little brother was struggling to be a grown up. Lovejoy resisted the impulse to watch her watching him, and jeered.
“Need a wrench, Kroger?” he asked. “Maybe an oil bath?”
“I’ll show you an oil bath, Lovejoy. Let’s move. At this rate, we’ll be the last at the party,” Kroger said.
“I doubt it will be a real party,” Eve said.
For the rest of the trip, Lovejoy struggled to keep up. They reached the Wall of Swords, a landmark that had been the focus of much speculation since its discovery. Lovejoy felt small and childlike as they approached as though the human race, despite a track record for catastrophic levels of violence, understood nothing about war.
He stared at the weapons shoved into the hard-packed soil of the planet. On closer examination, he realized the ground had become petrified around the older blades. Armor units had smashed several sections of the wall. Artillery had less effect than anyone would have guessed. The battle had been to the walls and moved forward or retreated. One enterprising tank commander and reached the Wall of Swords, driven onto it, then driven on top of it for several hundred meters, destroying a large portion of the barrier. Lovejoy wondered what had turned the tank inside out and painted the alien soil with the blood of its crew.
Scattered explosions and Siren-nix war cries echoed from the streets of the city like far away re-enactments of less lethal battles. Smoke cleared rapidly on this planet and the day was bright.
“This way,” Kroger said.
“I need to check in,” Lovejoy said.
Kroger and Eve squatted back to back in their Cyclops gear.
Lovejoy moved away but kept them in view, then contacted Captain Kingstar.
“Where have you been, Lovejoy? I could really use you right now. Half of my strength has been pulled for special duty,” Kingstar said.
Lovejoy processed the information for a few seconds, realizing the opportunity it gave him. “I attached to a Cyclops unit performing deep reconnaissance.”
No answer.
“Captain Kingstar, do you copy?”
“Yes, Lovejoy. I copy. The Navy brass just sent a confusing warning order. Doesn’t sound like good news. Finish whatever mission they have you on. Get back ASAP. There are unknown warships moving into the system. Don’t ask for details, I don’t have any. My gut says this is bad,” Kingstar said.
“Yes, sir.” Lovejoy adjusted his helmet and jogged toward Eve and Kroger. “We need to get moving. The shit is about to hit the fan.”
The helmet/command module of Eve’s Cyclops unit turned to view the destruction in every direction. A fresh barrage of orbit to surface artillery pounded the opposite side of the city. Local defenses cut the sky into sections with solar-powered energy weapons.
“Why don’t we fight the Siren-nix at night?” Eve asked.
“Because they store energy all day. Believe it or not, it would be a hundred times worse at night,” Lovejoy said without thinking. “Kroger. Please show me why I am not wasting my time.”
Kroger turned and headed around the crystal pyramid that the intelligence staff called the Diamond Ziggurat.
“There are many ways inside,” Kroger said as he slowed the pace and swirled the battered Cyclops upper torso to scan for threats or traps. “The Forever Siren promised this would be open.”
Lovejoy stared at the massive doorway as it came into view. He hadn’t realized the size of the pyramid from the battlefield. Each of the structures was as large as a small city. Doors ten meters high stood open. He thought they were made of metal but couldn’t be sure. Nothing about their composition registered in the analysis screen of his armor’s sensors. A science team might have better luck identifying the alloy. All he knew was that the doors stood open.
Kroger moved into a wide hallway that circled downward. Eve stalked beside him like a shiny new version of his battle scarred and poorly repaired mechanized death machine. Lovejoy brought up the rear, barely able to see despite the sensors linking through his helmet. Pinpoint cameras on each piece of his armor sent signals to the heads-up display where the computer sorted them into a smaller selection of recognizable images. Currently, he saw mostly darkness.
