Jon
sat down by her side. “Good timing, with Espirnet down. No way
to call the fire service.”
Roe
shook her head. “Michael must have planned it. We need to get
there, we need to help.”
Jon
stood up and peered into the distance. “It’s going to
take a while.”
Roe
tried to rise to her feet unassisted, but she couldn’t do it.
“I need my rifle.”
“You
can’t go, Roe,” Jon said. “You’re in no
condition.”
“Just
get me my rifle! At least then I can try and walk.”
Jon
was silent for a moment. She could almost hear him think. Finally he
marched over to the wreckage, returning a few moments later with her
rifle. She took it from him, and struggled to her feet with the rifle
braced beneath her armpit. She had to lean into it, she was short but
not that short. Jon tried to help, but she shrugged him off and took
a few experimental steps. It was hard work.
“I
can do this,” she said.
“I
know you can,” Jon replied. “And I can help.”
“I
don’t want your help, Jon. I want you to get over to the farm.”
“You
think I’m just going to leave you here?”
She
limped across to him, reaching out to grip his shoulder so she could
steady herself. “I can take care of myself,” she said.
“Get to the farm, please. Help Andy, he needs you.”
Jon
gripped her forearm. “No.”
She
leaned in and kissed him. “Please, Jon.”
He
pulled away, glancing again at the distant fire and then back at Roe.
“Promise me you’ll stay here and not do anything stupid.”
“I
promise,” she said.
“Sure
you do,” Jon replied, and kissed her on the forehead before she
could reply. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
He
began running in the direction of the fire. Roe watched him for a
moment, and then hitched up her rifle. She was determined to follow,
step by painful step.
*
Jon
ran, his heartbeat thumping loudly in his ears. He was bitterly aware
of how out of shape he was. There wasn’t much call for running
when you were a student in a Virtual Espirnet reality. After a few
minutes, every breath hurt. He stopped for a moment, catching
himself. The flames were getting closer. In fact they seemed to be in
a hurry to meet him. A dry summer had given the fire perfect
conditions to thrive. Taking a final breath, Jon sprang forward,
deciding to take a different route and run across an adjoining field
of Jopo crops. He would need to run around the fire if he could, he
was not foolhardy enough to run through it.
The
run took longer than he expected, and his geography wasn’t good
without Espirnet, he wasn’t even sure where the Jenkins
farmhouse was in relation to where he stood. Out of breath and
exhausted, he stared in the direction of the fire. It was relentless,
consuming all the crops in its path. It only needed a good wind to
keep going, and the breeze on his face was good enough.
“Sorry
Roe,” he said with no idea of where to run next. He could be
running all night and still miss the farmhouse.
Feeling
tired, he listened to the crackle of the flames grow closer. Soon he
would have to actively run away from them. The echo of a concussion
bolt changed his mind, quickly followed by another and another.
Without any further consideration Jon followed the sound, hoping it
was Andy fighting back rather than Threshians with rifles. Between
following the bolts and dodging the fire he found himself running
into a gully just below the Jenkins courtyard. He would have laughed
if had he the energy. For a few moments he rested before carefully
peering out over the top of the hiding place. The farmhouse was on
fire.
He
saw five Threshians running around the house with blazing torches.
There were at least three Threshian bodies on the ground. The ground
level of the whitewashed farmhouse was burning, and the flame was
quickly spreading upwards.
Another
shot was fired, and another Threshian fell to the ground. The other
four quickly scattered towards the untouched outbuildings. Satisfied
they were gone, Jon emerged from the gully and ran towards the
farmhouse. A concussive bolt hit the ground by his side.
“Andy,
you idiot!” he shouted. “It’s me, Jon.”
“Jon,”
Andy shouted back. He was standing beside a broken second floor
window. “Where’s Roe?”
“She’s
all right,” Jon said. “But she isn’t here. We had
an accident.”
“You
didn’t find my Dad?”
“I
could barely find this place,” Jon said. “You need to
come down. The farmhouse won’t last much longer.”
“The
staircase is gone,” Andy said.
“Then
you’ll have to climb down the outside,” Jon replied.
“Hurry.”
“Here
they come again,” Andy said and began shooting. Jon turned
around to see all four of the Threshians running towards him. Andy’s
concussion bolt took out one, but the others kept coming.
“No
more ammo,” Andy shouted.
Jon
drew his pistol and fired, his first bolt impacting the closest
Threshian. It fell, but the other two continued undeterred. He fired
again, but this time his gun exploded. As he fell backwards he
realised it must have been damaged in the accident. He had been a
fool not to check it.
“Jon!”
Andy shouted from above.
His
senses reeling from the blast, Jon tried to crawl away, but he wasn’t
fast enough. One of the Threshians picked him up by the scruff of his
neck, lifting him so high that his feet flailed helplessly above the
ground. He opened his eyes to see the reptile staring at him
thoughtfully, its other hand flexed to strike.
“No,”
the other Threshian said. “That is far too... humane.”
The
Threshian holding Jon turned to its comrade and snarled. “What
do you want me to do with it?”
“Give
it to the fire.”
Jon
was turned around in mid-air, the claws around his throat making him
gasp for breath. Before him the flames were only a few metres away.
He could already feel the burning heat on his face.
“Jon,”
Andy called down.
Jon
found himself mesmerised as he stared into the flames, transfixed by
how the many different colours danced in and around each other. It
was beautiful, so beautiful.
“Jon!”
Jake
returned from the lower level of the jail to find Asher Smith
standing before Paul’s cell, his hand wavering above the DNA
reader on the locking plate.
“Get
away from there,” Jake ordered.
“We
agreed that he would be released, Jacob,” Asher said.
“Jon
is missing. For all I know Michael has him. I’m not giving Paul
up until I know where my son is.”
Asher
turned around, his face growing before Jake’s eyes. It was all
there, the cleft chin, the thick black hair, the slightly pointed
nose. For Jake it was like looking in a mirror.
“Who
is this?” Paul asked Jake from his cell. “Why does he
look like you?”
“I
am Asher Smith,” the man with Jake’s face answered. “I
have come to free you.”
Paul
took a step back. “Asher Smith, the arms dealer? You’re
not him. I’ve met him. His face was ruined.”
“I
assure you,” Asher said calmly. “I am who I claim to be.”
In one swift movement he pressed his palm against the DNA reader. The
cell door lock clicked open.
Jake
drew his gun. “Get away from the cell, Asher.”
“We
made a deal, Jacob,” Asher said as he backed away. “I
still intend to honour my side of it.”
Jake
braced himself for a telekinetic attack, but none came. Studying
Asher’s face, he saw the sweat beading on the man in brown’s
forehead. The effort of realising his face had exhausted him. Jake
turned his attention to cell. Paul had curled his fingers around a
prison bar and pushed. The cell door creaked ajar.
Jake
waved his gun. “Don’t!”
Paul
stared at him, his mouth widening to reveal long elongated teeth,
“Get
back against your bed,” Jake said.
The
Threshian turned his head to peer back at the bunk, one hand still on
the cell bar. Very Slowly Paul turned back to face him, staring
deeply into his eyes as a single word issued from his vocoder. “No.”
Jake
fired, but for all his speed, Paul was faster. The Threshian
springing away from the explosion to grab hold of Asher’s arm
and neck, manoeuvring the man in brown between himself and Jake’s
gun in a single rapid movement.
“Let
him go,” Jake said, trying to hide his surprise. He should not
have missed.
“If
I let him go you’ll shoot me,” Paul said. “So no, I
won’t to let him go.”
“This,
this isn’t necessary, Paul,” Asher interrupted. “I
came here on behalf of your uncle, to free you.”
Paul
scraped a singled claw lightly across Asher’s neck, drawing
blood. “I don’t know who or what you are, but your blood
is just as red as any human’s.”
Asher
froze. Jake had never seen fear on his own face before. He didn’t
like the look. “You can’t escape, Paul.”
“I’m
walking up those stairs, Marshal, if you make any move to stop me,
your brother dies.”
Jake’s
brow furrowed in concentration. “Kill him then, you’ll be
saving me the trouble.”
Paul’s
fingertips tapped rapidly on Asher’s jugular. “I see.
Well then…” In a blur of motion, Asher was launched at
Jake. A concussion bolt ricocheted off the ceiling as both men were
sent sprawling. Jake rolled free as Paul bounded up the stairs. Damn,
that thing could move! A single shot from his gun ripped apart the
balustrade, but it was too late. Paul was already gone.
Jake
hissed through his teeth, and crawled over to Asher. “What have
you done?”
The
man in brown groaned in pain.
“You’re
not hurt,” Jake said. “Get up.”
Asher
Smith struggled upright, wincing as he touched the shallow cut on his
neck. “But I let him out.”
Jake
hauled himself to his feet and brushed down his overcoat. “What
did you expect, some sort of hug and a handshake? They don’t
like humans, especially humans with that face.”
Asher
was studying the blood on his fingertip, his own blood.
“For
crying out loud,” Jake said. “It’s only a little
cut. Surely you remember what a cut is like?”
Asher
looked up. “It’s not that. I just haven’t come that
close to death before. Not since...”
Jake
nodded, “I know. I’ll get something to clean it up.”
“Thank-you,
Jacob,” Asher said, still a little wide-eyed.
“Call
me Jake.”
“What?”
“Jacob
was the other guy.”
“Very
well.”
Jake
scrambled to find a first aid kit. When he was finished, a dash of
plastiskin encased the wound on Asher’s neck.
“Now
that I’ve helped you,” Jake said. “Perhaps you can
return the favour.”
“What
do you want, Jake.”
“Call
Jon or Roe using Espirnet, Jacob would have known their ID codes.”
“I
am afraid that is impossible.”
Jake
clenched his fists. “Because of you a murderer has been set
free. The least you can do…”
“You
misunderstand me, Jake,” Asher said. “I cannot call them.
Espirnet is no longer available, not to anyone. It has been
destroyed. The uprising has begun.”
Jake
drew his gun. “What uprising? What are you talking about? What
have you done?”
“Guns,”
Asher said, and with a flick of his hand Jake’s weapon was torn
away. Asher had recovered his powers.
Jake
leapt forward, determined to land a blow, but found himself repulsed
before he could even get close.
“Stop
that,” Asher said. “I have been threatened and harmed
enough today. I will tolerate it no longer.”
“Just
tell me what you mean,” Jake said, steadying himself. Asher was
standing between him and the stairs.
“It
is very simple, Jake,” Asher began, “the Threshians have
decided to take back their planet. The first step in the plan was to
destroy any hope of communication and organisation. Without Espirnet,
the humans are cut off from each other, helpless to call for aid.
They will be easily overcome.”
“What
do you get out of it?” Jake asked. “You saw how Paul
treated you. Your allies will kill you.”
“Paul
is a problem,” Asher admitted. “He jeopardised the entire
plan by getting himself arrested. Because of his inevitable
deportation, Michael pushed forward our timetable. I had hoped to get
him released and Jacob and Jon to safety. That will not happen now.
Events have moved beyond my control.”
“It
will be a slaughter,” Jake said.
“Wun
has no love for the humans.”
“But
surely there was a better way?”
“Humanity
has run this planet for almost a century using the Threshians as a
cheap labour force in their mines. Many humans have become rich and
many Threshians have died. Can you really blame them for wanting
revenge? I cannot.”
“It’s
not necessary,” Jake said.
“Perhaps
not,” Asher replied. “But they are savages, it is to be
expected. In the coming years they will prove useful allies.”
Jake
finally understood. “You need the Larson ore.”
Asher
nodded. “Wun is not interested in the rights of lizards. He is
returning to this part of the galaxy in his totality. The ore is
required.”
“You
can’t trust Michael,” Jake said. “He’ll just
be swapping one oppressor for another. He isn’t that stupid.”
“He
is… pragmatic, you will see.”
Jake
peered beyond Asher towards the staircase. “What about me?”
“You?
What about you? I do not know what you are, but I see no reason to
harm you unless provoked.” Asher raised an eyebrow. “Do
not provoke me.”
“What
about Jon?” Jake asked.
“He
is important to me, but my mission must come first.”