“You don’t think they’ll come again tonight, Sarge?” Goldera asked.
“I still don’t know what they’ll do, let alone why they’re doing it. All we can do is protect those kids for one more night, and hope that effort of ours somehow matters to the Iskop when they’ve got the kids at their mercy.”
Johansen had the watch when the sky began paling with dawn’s light. He sat on the floor, leaning against the wall next to the window, looking outward, an Izkop spear in one hand, as the growing daylight began turning the vague, gray shapes of night into clear objects with color and meaning. The med patch kept his thigh numb, and while that served as a reminder of the wound it covered it also meant that when just sitting here he could pretend it wasn’t a bad injury. Sitting quietly felt right anyway. In that strange stillness that dawn always held, there might have been nothing else living on the entire planet except for themselves and the distant shape of one of the local flying predators wheeling across the sky.
Silence and stillness. The right and left hands of death, someone had called them. She had died, too, on a planet far distant, gone cold and quiet like the mounds of Izkop here lying forlorn in the growing light. He thought about other dawns to come, without him around anymore. The idea felt impossible, and strange, even after all he had seen.
Archer was out there somewhere, but he tried not to think of that, except to wish that she got it like Juni had, a quick death before any mutilation.
He heard soft sounds behind and looked quickly to see that Ariana had come out of the back. She seemed to be emotionally used up and physically exhausted from dealing with the children, but that really shouldn’t matter much longer. “Mornin’,” Johansen whispered to her, pain stabbing through the numbness inside him as he thought about Ariana dying, too. One more person he couldn’t save.
She reached the wall and leaned next to him, her eyes on his face. “Good morning. Are they out there?”
“I expect. Can’t see any of them, of course.”
Rising up a bit, she looked out as well, their shoulders touching for a moment before Ariana slumped back again. “I thought soldiers had all sorts of special equipment built into their bodies, to let you see in the dark and do other things.”
“No, that’s just in stories,” Johansen said. “In real life, they kept finding out that implanting gear into people, biomechanicals and stuff, created a huge Achilles Heel. Anything like that could be hacked or intruded or jammed. One good hack could take out an entire force. Eventually, they decided the only firewall good enough was maintaining physical separation between human and equipment.”
She actually smiled slightly. “No secret superpowers to save the day?”
“Nope. Just the same old, same old as back at Troy.” Johansen tapped his spear.
“Does that make me Cassandra?” Ariana sighed. “What were you thinking about before I came out here?”
He hesitated before answering. “I was thinking how strange it is to know that this is the last sunrise I’ll ever see. I mean, there’s always a chance any sunrise will be your last, but this time it’s certain. Kind of a weird feeling. At least it’s a pretty sunrise.”
“Yes, it is. Are you sorry you came here?”
“Well, yeah.” Johansen glanced at her. “Not that we came to this spot. We would have died anyway, and at least coming here meant a chance for you and the kids. But this planet I could have done without.”
Ariana stared at the bodies of Burgos, Stein and Scorse against the far wall as if unable to believe that they were real. “I thought they’d last the longest. Scorse, I mean, and that woman soldier.”
“Burgos?” Johansen shook his head. “She was pretty certain to die early on. After the massacre in the valley and watching Ramada gutted, all Burgos cared about was killing Izkop. Your Scorse seemed to be the same way.”
“But if they wanted to keep killing –“
“I said that was all they cared about. They didn’t care about living any more, just killing. People who get like that don’t tend to last too long, because self-preservation just doesn’t occur to them.”
She gave Johansen a quizzical look. “But you want to kill Izkop, too, and you told me that you don’t expect to live.”
“No, but you see I only want to kill Izkop so I have a chance to live.” Somehow Johansen mustered a small smile as he watched the sun rising over the bluffs. “Get me out of here in one piece and I’d be happy never to kill another Izkop. But not Burgos and Scorse. They’d have jumped right back in.”
“But don’t you want revenge? For all of your friends killed back at Amity?”
He shook his head. “Revenge never brought back anyone. It’s just something those still alive do for themselves. I could kill every Izkop on this planet and it wouldn’t give me back a single friend. I know that. So did Burgos, but she didn’t care. I figure my friends would want me to go on living. To try to, anyway. That’s what I’d want for them if I was the one dying.”
“What about the big one? He seemed so calm, so steady.”
“Stein?” Johansen exhaled heavily. “Yeah. He wasn’t the brightest star in the sky, but he was loyal. He was fighting alongside Scorse, so he wouldn’t leave him, wouldn’t fall back alone. That wouldn’t even have occurred to Stein.”
Ariana nodded, her head lowered. “And Juni.”
“Don’t blame yourself for that. Juni was stupid.” Out of the corner of his eye, Johansen could see Ariana’s head come up, tears lining her face. “We told him not to go out there. He went anyway. Most of the time in life, stupid just gets you in trouble. In a combat situation, stupid gets you dead. I’m sorry,” he added, because he was. “Juni seemed like a decent guy. And it’s not like he was trying to run out on us. He was trying to do something he thought was important. He just thought he knew more than he did. People who think they know all the answers seem to often end up killing themselves or other people in one way or another.”
She didn’t reply, just crying as she looked toward the door leading to the back room. “Listen,” Johansen said as gently as he could, “when they get done with us, they’ll break down that door. You just stand there and you beg, you hear me? You can’t fight, so plead with them. Beg for the lives of the kids. Not for you, for them. Sometimes that makes a difference. Tell them whatever humans did, or whatever the Izkop think we did, it wasn’t the fault of the kids.”
Ariana nodded. “You’ll be dead if they get to that door?”
“Yeah. They won’t get to it before then. I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. Thanks for being Horatio.”
“I’m no hero, but you’re welcome. I’ve got to admit, I don’t understand why you civilians come to places like this.”
She actually smiled slightly. “We come to try to learn more about others and about ourselves. Humans, that is. There’s plenty of civilians who wouldn’t understand why you’re here. Guarding that door even though it’s hopeless. You don’t understand why we do what we do, and we don’t understand why you do what you do, and neither group of us understands why the Izkop are doing what they are doing.”
“I hope they at least have a good reason,” Johansen said dryly. “As long as I’m going to die because of it.” Shapes appeared in the distance, coming around one of the bluffs. “Sarge!”
Singh was up at his own window in a matter of seconds as the rest of the surviving soldiers also jerked awake and scrambled into position. “What’ve we got?”
“A small group,” Johansen reported, squinting to try to make out details. “Maybe ten Izkop, coming down the bluff to the right. They’re carrying something.”
“Only a dozen?” Singh brought up his field glasses, studying the group as it slowly came closer, walking at a deliberate pace toward the building. “They’ve got Archer.”
“She’s still alive?” Nassar cried.
“Maybe.” Singh’s mouth worked as he kept the field glasses on the group, then he spat to one side. “I can’t tel
l. They’re carrying her. She’s upright, but not walking herself.” The sergeant lowered the field glasses and slid toward Johansen, keeping low. He spoke softly. “If she is still alive, they might torture her to death in front of us. Be ready to help hold back the others if that happens.”
“I wish we could just charge out and get it over with,” Johansen growled, anger warring with despair within him. “But we still got the kids back there.”
Singh let out a sigh. “Right. We secure this building as long as we can, corporal.”
The sergeant returned to his own window, the other soldiers staying at their own posts. As the small group of Izkop came closer, Johansen could see that Archer was limp and being supported by several of the Izkop. Even though Archer was fairly small, the Izkops’ own small stature meant that her feet dragged and bumped over the ground as the group approached.
Ariana was right next to him again, her breathing ragged as she also looked at the approaching group. “What’s going on?”
“I was hoping you had some idea,” Johansen said. Closer still, the light of dawn growing, they could see rips in Archer’s battle fatigues and wide smears of blood. Her head lolled down so they couldn’t see her face, but Johansen thought he saw raw wounds down the sides of her neck.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Ariana said. “It’s clearly a procession. That one in the lead, the old Izkop, he’s wearing decorations that indicate very high rank.”
The small group of Izkop stopped at the gate, then came on another couple of meters with a slow gait that seemed ceremonial to Johansen. Archer’s head came up for a moment as if that gesture took all of her strength, then flopped down once more.
“She is alive!” Adowa shouted, beginning to rise from her crouch near the door.
“Hold position,” Singh ordered, his voice as dark and commanding as that of a stern god. Goldera let out a curse that sounded like a sob, and Adowa settled back onto her knees, her face drawn.
The old Izkop in the lead gestured to the others to halt and then spread his arms wide, chanting.
“What’s he saying?” Nassar demanded.
Ariana listened, her expression intent. “Something about…that god I called Horatio.”
“They think Archer is Horatio?”
“No. It’s more like his spirit, or example. I’m not sure what the words actually mean.” She looked confused now. “The Izkop…proved…their…purity? But so did…Archer. I think that’s a reference to Archer and…her people. I’m sorry, but he’s using the ceremonial language which is even harder to understand than the common speech.” Ariana shook her head. “I think he’s referring to all of you. The others who came among the…demons. No, thieves. Both, maybe. In the valley. Oh, no, they’re talking about us. The civilians. Something belonging to gods. False…hands? No. Offerings. False offerings. Corruption. I think that refers to spiritual, not physical corruption. Something about that demon god I call Prometheus. Denial. Test. Honor. Test. Strength. True…protectors? Of Izkop. Of the gods.”
The six Izkop carrying Archer lowered her to the ground, face up, then held up their spears in salute before raising them again, points down, ready to strike. “No,” Adowa got out in a strangled whisper.
But when the Izkop slammed their spears into the dirt, they did so on either side of Archer. The leader raised his hands, calling out in a voice that echoed across the landscape.
Johansen had sudden trouble breathing as thousands of Izkop rose up from the surrounding terrain, standing silently, spears by their sides. His hands slid along the shaft of his own spear, suddenly slick with sweat. He heard a low murmuring sound and realized that Sergeant Singh was praying, perhaps a final benediction before death.
“You put on your damned show, now just do it and get it over with,” Nassar got out between gritted teeth as the Izkop stood silently.
Then the leader raised his hands once more, shouting another command. Just as the first small group had, the masses of Izkop raised their spears, holding them high canted toward the building, then shouted as one before reversing the weapons and driving them point first into the ground like those already planted around Archer.
A third command from the leader, and all of the Izkop began moving back, leaving their spear shafts standing like a low forest bare of branches and leaves. The long ranks of Izkop all around as well as the small group with the leader marched steadily away, leaving Archer lying amid the spears thrust into the dirt around her.
The Izkop had almost vanished over the surrounding ridges when Singh shook his head like someone coming out of a dream. “Nassar, you and Goldera go out there and get Archer.”
Holding his spear as if that could still help cover the others, Johansen watched Nassar and Goldera hastily shove aside the bodies blocking the doorway, then trot quickly to Archer. Nassar knelt and examined her while Goldera stood on guard. “She’s been cut up quite a bit,” Nassar called back to the others. “Not deep wounds. Like she was sliced with knives. Can’t tell if there’s any internal injuries but I can’t spot any broken bones. Hey, Archer’s still got the comm unit.”
“What?” Singh demanded.
“Yeah. She’s holding the damned comm unit in both arms. Won’t let go.”
“Let her hold on to it. Just bring her in.”
They got her inside, where Ariana rushed to help treat Archer. Johansen saw that Archer’s face was almost unmarked except for long cuts down each cheek and on her temples leading down toward her eyes but stopping short. “Get her awake,” Singh ordered. “We have to know what happened and what all of that meant.”
One of the injections from the first aid kit did the trick. Archer’s eyes shot open and her mouth trembled as she looked from side to side. “Crazy,” she gasped.
“No,” Singh assured her. “You’re back. The Izkop brought you back. Why?”
“They…what?”
Adowa leaned in closer. “Hey, princess, will you let go of the damned comm unit so we can work on your arms and chest?” she demanded.
“Huh? That really you, Addy?” Archer seemed incapable of unclasping her hands, but with the help of Adowa managed to release the comm unit. She looked around again, her eyes tearing up. “What the hell?”
“You’re s–“ The sergeant broke off the word ‘safe,’ apparently realizing how absurd it would be to say that. “You’re okay. Tell us what happened,” Singh said, his voice more gentle but still commanding.
“What…” Archer closed her eyes, her mouth slack for a moment, then rallied. “I was…fighting and something hit…my head. Woke up, being carried –“ Her voice rasped to a halt.
“Water,” Singh ordered, waiting until Archer had drained a cup before speaking again. “Then what?”
“Uh…” Archer seemed unaware of the others working on her many minor injures, instead staring up at the ceiling as if seeing recent events there. “Camp of some kind. Thousands of Izkop. Tens of thousands. Some held me.” She looked over to one side. “Comm unit. I still had it. Some Izkop…wanted it. Kept…asking. ‘Give.’ Wouldn’t give it to him. Said no. Hell, no.” Her eyes rolled back to Singh. “My job. You said hang onto Aimee.”
“That’s your job,” the sergeant agreed. “Aimee’s fine,” he added to reassure Archer. “Doesn’t look damaged at all. What happened next?”
“They tried to take it. Kept pulling. I…wouldn’t let them. Others came up and asked. I told them all no. No way.” Archer swallowed. “They…cut me…hurt…but figured they’d…kill me anyway. I wouldn’t let go.”
“That’s all?”
“No. Some other Izkop…” Archer struggled for words. “Told me they wanted me to…to…show them how to use it. Kept saying that. ‘Show us use it,’ over and over. I said no. No frickin’ way. They…uh…” She paused again, looking even paler. “Gonna kill me, they said, held spears. Hurt me real bad…if I didn’t. Cut me more. Face. Other places.”
“Did you show them then?” Singh asked, his voice calm and
steady.
“No.” Archer managed a ghastly grin. “Told them…go screw yourselves. Why not? Kill me anyway…right? Maybe make them mad, they’d…kill me quick.”
Singh looked at Ariana, who shook her head in bafflement. “What happened then, Archer?”
“Uh…” Archer tried to focus on him again. “They kept trying to take Aimee. I wouldn’t let go. ‘Show us use it.’ They kept yelling that. ‘Show us use it.’ I kept yelling no. Go to hell. Go ahead. Kill me. Screw all of you. No show, you bastards. You’ll have to…to kill me if you want it. Over my frickin’ dead body.” Her voice rose slightly, gaining force, a shadow of the screams she must have thrown at her captors.
Nassar appeared baffled. “Thousands of Izkop and they couldn’t take that comm unit from her?”
“They could have if they wanted to,” Ariana said. “Easily enough. It must have been a ritual.”
“A ritual?” Singh asked.
“Yes. They keep asking her something, and she keeps saying no, and they ask her and seem like they’re trying to take it, to force her, but as long as she keeps saying no, keeps fighting them to hold it, they don’t kill her and they don’t actually tear it out of her hands. They hurt her, but the wounds all seem superficial. Painful, but nothing that would kill her or maim her.”
“You’re saying that Archer did something right?” Johansen asked.
“But what?” Adowa demanded. “What did she do?”
Singh looked at Ariana. “Show us use it?”
“That’s got to be the key,” she agreed. “That and Archer’s refusal to give it up.” Ariana sat looking at Archer. “Actions. Not words. What mattered with Horatio was what he did. What matters with Prometheus, how they identify Prometheus, is what he does. Test. That’s what the old Izkop meant. The ritual was a test. To see if she was aligned with the gods, or with Prometheus.”
“I don’t get it,” Nassar said. “If the Izkop are judging us by what we do, then why didn’t they run us down after we got out of the valley? That wasn’t what Horatio did. Why didn’t the Izkop kill us when we ran?”