The Sowing

I shove Slade’s corpse off me and spring to my feet. Valerian stands stone-faced, aiming the gun at me. I look at the body at my feet and back to her. “What the hell?”

Instead of firing, she tosses the gun to me. In spite of my surprise, my reflexes kick in and I catch it.

She sighs. “Try not to botch this mission too, Spark.”

“What?”

But she’s already moving, snatching up a familiar looking rucksack from the corner of the room.

The one containing the weapons I stole.

And the detonator.

She lobs it to me. I catch it and look inside. Everything’s still intact. But there’s a notable addition: a charred silver disc. It’s the remaining concussion charge from my attack on the Emporiums. The one Slade was going to have analyzed by forensics, which would have exposed me. Valerian covered for me…

“I saved these for you, too.” She pulls out Digory and my ID tags from her pocket, as well as the holo recording of Digory’s transmission to Cassius. “I’ve recovered the corrupt data on the disc. You may want to take a look.

Now I’m really pissed off. “I told you to trash those. Why the hell would I want—”

“Shut up and listen for once, Spark. When you get out of this, you’ll thank me.”

Reluctantly, I shove the items into the rucksack with the weapons.

The clatter of boots comes to a halt just outside the door. Someone tries the lock but the door remains closed. Fists hammer against it.

“Sergeant Slade! Captain Valerian! What’s your status?” someone shouts on the other side.

I cross the room to Valerian. “What’s going on here? Why did you—”

She shakes her head. “There’s no time. Hit me.”

“What?”

“I need you to hit me. Hard. And make it look convincing. Not like those childish blows you traded with Slade.”

Battering against the door, rattling it from its hinges.

Valerian grips my arm. “Do it now!”

I swing at her, knuckles connecting with her face, her nose. Crunch!

Bone shatters. Blood flies. Her head whips back. She staggers against the wall. When I reach for her, she pulls back, wiping the blood, smiling. “Maybe Jeptha was right after all,” she whispers.

“Jeptha? Cage’s father?” I stare at her as I dig into the rucksack, finding the detonator. I pull it out, slip it in my pocket, and sling the bag’s strap over my shoulder.

The door bursts open.

A half dozen Imposers spill in, weapons aimed. Taking in the sight of Slade’s body, Valerian’s bloody face, and me standing there holding a gun on her.

There’s a series of clicks like the chattering of rodents as every weapon is trained on me. “Drop your weapon!” Ensign Echoes shouts.

I fling the gun to the floor.

One of the officers is communicating via his hand-held. To Styles.

“Just about ready to begin executing the prisoners,” Styles reports. I can see the flickering images of Cage, Drusilla, Tristin, Arrah, and Dahlia just beyond him.

“We’ve got Spark in custody,” Echoes responds. “Proceed with shelving immediately.”

My finger jams down on the detonator in my pocket. I can hear multiple explosions rock the complex like a massive earthquake. The room teeters, and everyone falls to the floor. The lights go out, plunging everything into total darkness.

“What the hell was that?” Echoes’s voice pierces the blackness.

The sound of grinding, screeching metal cuts him off, echoing down the hallways. It’s followed by a series of deafening clangs and a series of smaller explosions.

There’s the sound of running just outside the door as soldiers sprint past us.

“Defenses have been breached!” someone shrieks. “The enemy’s entered the base! Prepare for ground assault!”

The enemy. I know who they mean even before that dreaded sound shatters my thoughts—

GONG!

The Fleshers have penetrated the outer wall. Infiernos is under attack.

Just like I planned.

I’m ready for the mass confusion. In no time, I’ve donned a pair of infrared goggles from the rucksack and shoved my way past the web of bodies, out the doorway, and into the corridor.

Trying to catch my breath, I careen down the corridors. All around me, the sounds of screaming and weapon fire assault my ears. Imposers run to and fro. Some even slam into me. But they don’t bother to stop, don’t seem to care about my presence at all, and that’s even more disturbing.

I see Corin, dazed in a corner, curled up in a fetal position. The Imps escorting him to Cassius must have just abandoned him here during the explosions and ensuing panic. He jumps when I touch him.

“It’s okay, kid. We gotta move.” Then I’m pulling him to his feet and we’re both running.

Rounding another corner, we spy a cluster of Imposers, their backs to us, firing weapons at something just around the bend that we can’t see.

But we can hear it.

Clacketyclacketyclacketyclacketyclack…

Whir…

The chilling sounds of the unseen Fleshers crawl up my spine. Obscene shadows scrawl the walls as something approaches the huddled squad.

We’re on our own now.