The door was open, making it easier for her to slip silently into the room, walking on the balls of her padded feet. Neither of the Hunters turned away from the console or from their conversation, probably trading stories of trophy Hunts. They were dressed only in harness tops and loincloths, no weapons within reach, and Noguchi managed to get within a meter before one of them noticed her. It was one of the few Hunters whose name she could actually pronounce, Prient’de, and he broke off talking, his tusks flaring wide with alarm—
—and Noguchi snapped out her wrist blades even as she swung, catching Prient’de under his chin in a swift and sure killing strike, dropping to one knee and turning, hand coming up as droplets of pale blood flew—
—and she rammed the wet blades into the other’s lower belly as he rose, realizing too late that the ooman had come to kill them. She’d never named this other, and as he clutched at the strange coils of gut that slid between his claws, toppling, hissing weakly, she thought that “Dead” suited him quite well. The light green, thin liquid that served as yautja blood was hot and smelled almost sweet, the scent filling the room as it flowed across the floor.
No going back, she was committed, and the thought made her own blood run hot. She didn’t feel proud of having killed the unarmed Hunters, but there
was no guilt, either. She felt driven, she felt alive with intent, and there was a sense of righteousness in her heart that she knew would only get stronger.
Noguchi walked back to the door and closed it, pushing the lock control and turning the manual bolt. Given time and tools, the Hunters could get through— but she had a diversion in mind, something to take their minds off of the fact that they’d been hijacked.
No time like the present. She sat in front of the console, lifting the arm control from next to one of the small, circular monitors. The system activated; a series of symbols scrolled across the screen on a backdrop of red. Topknot had shown her once how their system worked, and he was going to regret it.
/// can figure out what does what . . .
The Shell’s system—and probably all yautja drives, she didn’t know—was image-based, each tiny picture a representation of an action or thing. All she had to do was access the right area and connect the symbols in the correct order.
She touched the sensor “pen” to a silhouette of a yautja ship and another set of images popped up—a claw, a mask, lines representing doors, other symbols that she didn’t know. There was an egg in the set, and she tapped that one; this time, the image of the queen came up, surrounded by new pictures.
She touched the queen, connecting it to a hand, what looked like a series of knots, a triangle, and back to the queen. There was a flash of green light, a warning with new options available; Noguchi repeated the series and this time there was no warning flash. Instead, the image of the queen appeared alone—and from the symbols that scrolled out beneath, she saw that she had been successful.
Bam bam bam!
Startled, Noguchi turned, saw a pair of faces through the thick window in the door, their mouths moving and mandibles flexing. They’d discovered her sooner than she’d expected, but it didn’t matter—or it
wouldn’t, in a few moments. One of them signaled “stop,” fist out in front, and Noguchi turned away. Turned back to the screen, hoping that piloting the ship would be as easy as releasing the queen.
So now she knew what it felt like to be an outcast from two worlds. She’d turned her back on humanity because she’d never felt at home there, and now, by her own hand, she’d erased what Broken Tusk’s mark meant to the Clan. She would be Hunted by them, actively, and if they caught her, she wouldn’t die quickly.
In that moment, she decided that she was happier than she’d ever been in her life.
If he hadn’t had the shit so thoroughly kicked out of him, Jess probably could have managed to refuel the Nemesis shuttle on his own; not as fast as with two experienced people, but having to walk Ellis through the process took a few minutes. Each passing second stretched like eternity, and though Jess’s anger had only increased with the beating, he felt like he’d learned his lesson on letting it get the better of him, at least for the moment. They had to get gone. Briggs and his other guard could be back at any time, with reinforcements.
And if that’s not incentive enough, something is very fucking wrong with this picture.
The tilted platform, the strange rustlings in the trees far below, the alarm that wouldn’t shut off. It wasn’t possible, but the station had a deserted feel to it, as if everyone had mysteriously disappeared. On the plus side, the freaky circumstances had stirred enough adrenaline through his bruised body that he was capable of moving. But there was also a feeling in the air like death, like no matter what they did, their future didn’t include making it off Bunda.
And it won’t, if we don’t get some fuel loaded into this thing . . .
Everything was ready on his end, flow rate adjusted, the mixture and filtering set. Jess looked away
from the control console, over to where Ellis was trying to fit the hose into the shuttle’s tank opening. Jess watched for a second and was about to call out for the kid to twist the damn connector to the right when Ellis got it. The line hooked, Jess hit the pump switch.
Lara leaned out of the shuttle, looking as nervous as Jess felt. “What’s the holdup? Prelaunch is done, we’re a go.” She kept her voice low, her gaze darting left and right.
Jess started to give her a thumbs-up, wincing instead as his shoulder recommended otherwise. Every part of him hurt. “We’re on, three minutes,” he said.
Lara went back in, Jess turning his attention back to the fuel gauges on the console. Three minutes, and they’d be on their way. Even with the air filters cleaned and a full tank, they’d be facing death again within a week—but not at the hands of the Company, and that felt like the best they could hope for—
“Jess, look out!” Ellis screamed.
Jess looked up, confused, the kid was staring in his direction but there was nothing around. Ellis finally snapped—
Wham!
Something hit Jess’s shoulder, hard, knocking him to the deck, the new pain brilliant and sharp. Jess clutched at his arm and looked up, saw nothing—
—except the air, moving. As if it had taken a tangible form, a shifting, living, creature, and he could just make out what looked like twisted knots of hair but much too high, no man was that tall—
“Get away!”
The kid, screaming, and the strange, bitter smell hovering around the invisible monster was suddenly overwhelmed by the dizzying fumes of ship fuel. Jess heard liquid hitting the ground, heard Lara calling from inside the shuttle as the air creature moved, turning toward Ellis—
—and Ellis was suddenly only a few meters away, his young face contorted by fear and purpose, the drip-
ping, arm-thick hose in his hands. Before Jess could do any more than sit up, Ellis opened the nozzle all the way, a blast of oily fuel shooting out at the shifting thing.
At once, Jess saw the creature outlined in the powerful river of liquid—a giant after all, humanoid, staggered by the fluid jet pounding at its massive chest. Ellis was struggling to keep hold of the whipping hose, the creature struggling to escape the blast—
—and Jess heard the sharp electric crack come from the creature, from its invisible cloak, and saw the shuddering change as parts of it became clear. Jess covered his face, screaming for Ellis to shut it off, to get back, and—
BA-BOOM!
—the bright, white orange night turned to thoughtless black and Jess followed it down, the monster’s dying howl chasing him into unconsciousness.
They’d moved out in groups of four and five, each group equipped with at least one weapon, each pale, terrified individual trying to watch all directions at once. All they had were shotguns, practically antiques, but Irwin didn’t mind so much; beat the shit out of nothing at all, and one of the groups had agreed to come with her, to wait on board the Sun Jumper for Briggs. The rest of the researchers, scientists, and both Bunda pilots had headed off for the orbiter transports, docked near the top of the station.
Two men and a woman had come with Irwin, one of the men almost catatonic with fear; she and the other man, John something, had to drag him most of the way to the Jumper while the woman guarded. Beneath the droning alarm the night was strangely silent, as if all the life on Bunda was holding its breath, hiding from whatever demons had come. The woman, a redhead named Tia, carried the shotgun with the grim, no-nonsense expression of a veteran soldier. Irwin was glad to have her along.