The Saffron Malformation (102 page)

             
Somewhere over the shouted orders and the spastic bursts of weapons he heard the alarm sounding and he knew it wouldn’t be long before they were completely fucked.

             
Quey spotted Ryla, standing calmly near the cargo container they’d come out of, as Mechaganon’s bullets finally cracked the turret, killing the man operating it and causing a small explosion.  He ran to her, head ducked and heart pounding and he shouted, “We need to get to that alarm.”

             
She looked at him simply and nodded.  “I’ve been trying but their first response to the alarm was to lock down all remote access,” she informed him.

             
Rachel found her place behind the engine of an old piece of broken machinery.  She lifted her rifle to her shoulder and looked through the scope.  Slowly, easily, she picked targets and squeezed the trigger.  One man gripped his neck and collapsed.  The second just fell back as his face exploded, his helmet tumbling from his head and bouncing across the floor.

             
Quey took Ryla’s hand, dry and cool in his sweaty grip, and ran to Rachel.  “We need to get to that control booth,” Quey said into her ear and she nodded, scanning the way with her scope.

             
“I got you,” she replied calmly, using her sleeve to dab a bit of sweat from her brow.  She remembered being the woman in Fen Quada—little more than a year ago—who’d been stunned when she found out Dusty even owned a gun.  She remembered nearly falling into shock when he’d shot that Angel of the Brood, and the fear she’d felt standing on that rooftop watching the city burn around her.  He’d pulled her through.  He’d made her able to do this, and he’d given her the thing that would allow her the courage to press forward.

             
That life she recalled wasn’t a mere continent away anymore.  It seemed the whole of the galaxy could easily fit between the woman she was then and the one here on the dock now.

             
Ryla issued orders to her bots then pulled her pistol and followed Quey toward the control center.  They ducked in between some crates for cover and found a set of Eric’s soldiers.

             
“Come on,” he shouted at them and they looked at him as if he were nuts.  “I can’t give you orders but you hear that alarm?” he asked, giving them a moment to register it.  “If we don’t get to that control tower soon Blue Moon’ll figure what’s happening here and the whole of their army’ll be on this place.”  Hoss' soldiers exchanged a look and silently agreed.

             
Leone told Amber to stay where she was and she begged him to just do as Quey said.  He kissed her forehead and told he he’d be all right, promised he wouldn’t do anything stupid, then he ran out into the battle.

             
One of Eric’s soldiers, a skinny young man who couldn’t have been more than a handful of years his elder, was lying dead on the ground.  Leone didn’t see the boy, he saw the rifle the boy had dropped.  He stowed his pistol, took up his new gun and pressed forward.

             
Quey raised his pistol at a guard that had come to stop them but the man jerked as two shots tore through his chest.  Rachel was covering them fiercely.  He and his followers pressed forward.  The bots opened fire as more of Blue Moon security arrived from the door to the right.  Three went down while the rest took cover.  Quey didn’t have a chance to count them.

             
On the other side of the room some of Eric’s people hurled a set of grenades at the security forces burrowed in near the door.  The Blue Moons made a mad dash toward new cover that was accompanied by shots.  Two went down.  Three found a place to hide before the grenades went off.

             
Leone felt his stomach churn with fear and excitement as he dashed from cover point to cover point.  Once he heard something strike the ground beside him and a jolt rushed through him.  When he fell in behind one of the loading cranes and a set of rounds clanged against the other side he took a moment to catch his breath and let his mind settle.  He hadn’t pulled the trigger on his rifle yet but that didn’t mean he would hesitate.

             
Quey made sure Ryla was right behind him.  He wiped his brow and palms on his clothes and then took a set of deep breaths before he dashed from the cover of some crates toward the steps leading to the control center’s landing.  The trio of Eric’s soldiers following shot cover fire to the left and right as Blue Moon Security took position around the door to the control room at the top of the steps.  There must have been other doors on the right and left sides of the room because men were taking positions around those corners as well.  The danger of being flanked was increasing.

             
Eric Hoss spotted Quey moving a small group forward and it took him a moment to realize they were heading for the control room.  They were trying to silence the alarm but it seemed pointless to him as you couldn’t put a raccoon back in a box, as the saying goes.

             
Bullets whizzed by and he brought up his gun, returning fire.

             
Still, at least they seemed to have purpose out here, so he issued an order to cover them and began moving toward their position.

             
Quey and Ryla hunkered in between the support pillars and the staircase.  Sparks leapt as bullets ricocheted off the metallic steps.  When Quey opened his eyes he looked across at Ryla, both their backs pressed to the concrete blocks holding up the platform above them.  Quey heard a set of shots crack against the other side of his cover and he knew they were pinned in.  They had men above them and others flanking them.

             
Behind Ryla’s cover he saw a pair of soldiers pop up and fire a few rounds and he ducked.  One struck Ryla’s pillar and another clipped the edge of the rail leading up the steps.  He didn’t know what happened to the rest.

             
Ryla lifted her arm, bringing the holographic display up from her device and gave it a set of hasty taps.

             
“Fucking amateurs,” Eric cursed when he saw where this moonshiner and his robot bitch had gotten themselves.  He issued orders to draw attention from the flanking groups and gathered a set of his own men to make a push for the stairs.

             
Eric was about to charge when one of the robots rolled into the fray along the right side of the room.  Bullets clanged uselessly against it as it raised its arms, took aim and fired.

             
Behind him there was a similar roar of gunfire and when he glanced he saw the other bot doing the same across the room.

             
“We don’t have long,” Ryla shouted to Quey and he nodded.  The robots couldn’t keep this rate of fire going for long without running out of ammo.

             
They emerged from cover almost in unison, intending to fire up the stairs and hoping to make a go of it but as Quey turned he saw a man come through the shadows under the stairs.  He’d made his way around there somehow and now he was taking aim.  Quey felt his heart skip when he noticed the two men at the top of the stairs doing the same.  Time ran slow as he realized there was no way out.  He was going to be shot.  Frozen, he waited to die.

             
Shots rang out.  He saw the muzzle flash of Ryla’s gun and one of the Blue Moons at the top of the stairs head snapped back and his hand went to his eye as he fell dead.  Quey tried to raise his weapon, either to the man in the shadows or the one at the top of the steps, the one he was supposed to nail before getting nailed.  He was frozen as he couldn’t decide which to shoot and did nothing.  Still, the man up top fell back, dropping his rifle as he went.

             
The Blue Moon coming out of the shadows under the stairs was smiling as he locked in on Quey.  Finally Quey moved but it was too late.  His gun was halfway to finding its target when a shot rang out beside him and the security officer staggered back.  The bullet meant for Quey’s brain bit into his bicep instead and pain shot through his left side.  Another set of shots rang out and the man went down.

             
Quey ignored his wound for now and turned and saw Leone standing beside him, eyes steel as they looked down the barrel of a rifle.  The boy looked up at him and nodded.  Quey took a deep breath, thought of Rain and promises made, and felt his stomach sink.

             
“Not much left,” Ryla shouted over her shoulder.  Quey wanted to sit down, and for a brief moment he felt something that terrified him.  Disappointment.  He had thought he was going to be dead by now.  It would have been so much easier.

             
‘It’s been a good run,’ Cal’s voice ran through his head.  The last call of sweet relief.

             
“Not yet,” he told it.

             
Rachel, who’d shot the man at the top of the steps when Quey hesitated, covered them as Quey and Ryla made it to the control room.  She killed a few men trying to flank them from around the corners and kept the rest at bay.                There was no one left inside the control room and so Ryla moved to the holographic interface and began to work, fingers dancing dexterously across keys and tapping icons.

             
The men Rachel had pinned down tried to move in through the side doors and this time Quey didn’t freeze, he fired.  So did Ryla, with uncanny accuracy of course, and then they were alone.

             
Below, Blue Moon’s security was pulling back as Quey inspected his wound.  It was bleeding steadily, saturating his arm in red.  He pressed his hand against the wound and looked down at the docks as Blue Moon pulled back.  They’d been taken by surprise and were spread too thin, but he knew they’d regroup and come back hard.

             
“Looks like we’ve bought ourselves a tick or two,” he shouted over his shoulder.  If Ryla heard him she didn’t acknowledge it.

             
Eric Hoss ran up the stairs and smiled at him.  “Gotta say, you got some set of balls for a fucking moonshiner.”

             
Quey didn’t acknowledge the comment.

             
“What’s the story?” Eric said.

             
Ryla shouted to be heard across the room and over gunfire.  Her voice still seemed small.  “After sounding the alarm security moved to this area.  When they saw what they were up against they signaled to Blue Moon headquarters that they were under attack and in need of reinforcements.”

             
“Fuck,” Eric barked.  “That’s it then.  How long do we have?” he asked her.

             
“I’ve issued a similar alert from ten other bases on three separate continents.  With luck they’ll believe the robotics compound is mounting an offensive.”

             
“Still it won’t take them long to check with each base and verify-”

             
“I know it’s earlier than we planned but I’ve uploaded the viral program into Blue Moon’s communications network.  With that down it’s likely they’ll still send reinforcements, but at least they’ll have to be stretched across ten other bases.  That should give us a chance, at least,” she said as the interface flickered before her and went to static.  “There.  No more communications.”

             
“Good work,” Eric said.  “But we’re far from out of shit creek yet.”

             
Ryla knelt by the body at her feet and began to search him.

             
Carmen Tully ran up the stairs and stopped before Eric Hoss.

             
“You have a report?” he asked.

             
“More than half of our company is dead,” she said bluntly.  “Including Lem.”

             
Eric sighed heavily and nodded with the weight of the news.  “Our plans will have to change,” he said.

             
“We split in two,” Quey said.  Eric and Carmen looked over at him.  “You and most of your people move toward the core.  Make it look like you’re just here to take the base.  Leave a handful of your people with me and we’ll make for the ship.”  There was a moment of silence before he added, “They’re practically on opposite ends of the base.”

             
“Sounds like we go on a suicide mission while you and yours escape,” Carmen snapped.

             
“This whole thing’s a suicide mission.  Maybe not on paper but it is now.”

             
“When we make it to the ship I’ll press the button,” Ryla assured them as she pulled a device from the dead man’s breast pocket.  “The compound will switch to attack for two hours, more than enough time and confusion to make it back to the dock and take the transport wherever you’d like.”  She plugged the dead man’s device into her own and almost smiled.  It would give her remote access.

             
Eric looked out at the ship that had brought them over, still docked and thought while he rubbed his chin.

             
“This is bullshit,” Carmen began.