Legacy of Shadow Page 3

Marcus could only nod, staring at the swaying door, cold fingers of terror sliding up his neck and over his scalp. No doubt about it. This was going to suck.

  Chapter 2

  Angara Ksaka hated Earth. She sneered at the thought, glancing up to adjust an overhead control that monitored local communications traffic. Everyone hated Earth. But the universal revulsion with which the rest of the galaxy regarded the nasty little dirt prison was vague and uninformed, whereas her loathing for the place was personal, particular, and very well-informed with bitter, all-too-personal experience. She snorted, shook her head, and went back to following the contact blips floating before her.

  She couldn’t count the number of times she had been forced to track her employer’s ill-conceived attempts to flee his responsibilities to this out of the way pit. It was not as if he had a particularly demanding occupation, but he could be counted on, with the regularity of an atomic clock, to skitter off on one of his diversionary escapades whenever the perceived weight grew too much. And one of his favorite places to hide, no matter the opinion of the rest of the galaxy, was Earth.

  Angara stretched her long body, luxuriating in the sensation of the malleable chagga hide covering of the intelligent command chair. The seat itself shifted beneath her, accommodating every move, supporting her body no matter how she twisted and turned. With a sigh, she settled back into a more comfortable position for flying, and checked the location of her employer, activating the tracking image with a flick of an eye. The image, appearing in the upper right edge of her vision field, showed two contact icons racing down the primitive road below. She shook her head. There had to be a better way for a young Tigan woman to make a living.

  The old bitterness rose in her throat again and she tried to shake it off. It had been ages since her exile. She should be happy that they had let her take the Yud’ahm Na’uka with her when she fled. She had a ship, and that was more than most exiles were allowed. With that, she had been able to secure her current position, which was a stroke of luck, given her background. And at the moment, she should be spending more time thinking about keeping that position, and less on brooding over wrongs done to her in the distant past.

  She focused again on the contact points. Who was it this time? More often than not, when Administrator Virri went off on one of his little jaunts, he would eventually run afoul of local criminals or other scum. He had a gift for seeking out the lowest form of life and then annoying it to the point of violence. If she was going to be honest with herself, his gift ran more to annoying anyone he met, the criminal aspect merely an added bonus.

  Another thought forced itself into her cycling mind, and she called up several confidential reports with a twist of her right hand. They scrolled past in the air above her console and she glanced through, willing a series of key words and phrases to highlight themselves. When nothing did, she relaxed and dismissed the reports with a casual flip of her head. There had been no accounts of new Galactic Council interest in Virri or the city he nominally ruled. It would not be the first time they had dispatched Mnymian assassins to make a play against the cretin, finding him far from home.

  Those few times she had faced the Council’s hired killers in the line of duty it had been far more exciting than this mundane extraction was bound to be, but she found that she was not in the mood for a challenge today. Better to jump up, pull Virri’s bloated tentacles out of the fire, and then return to Penumbra for a much-needed rest and refit.

  Another look at the tracking icons showed that they were almost upon her. Reacting to her unspoken commands, the pilot’s chair swiveled, bringing her down into her favored, prone flight position. Although she could fly her ship from nearly anywhere within, she preferred the intimate, hands-on experience of the command chair, looking out through the viewing fields at the world around her with her own eyes.

  The walls of the shallow canyon swung into view as she banished the icons and other reports floating around her peripheral vision. Her hands balled into fists within the control fields, the energy there tingling against her skin like the grip of an old friend. A feral grin pulled at her mouth as she brought the weapons online. It was frowned upon to use galactic weaponry against earth Humans, no matter how lowly they were regarded, but when she was able to justify it in the line of duty, she allowed herself the latitude. How many beings across the galaxy would pay good money to be where she was at that very moment?

  Behind her, the Yud’ahm Na’uka’s power plant hummed low with anticipation of its own. It was not often that she could unleash the full power of the ship, and it contemplated the few moments of unbridled power and destruction it was about to experience with almost sentient relish.

  Her tongue flicked out from between sharp teeth to moisten her lips. Her position did not offer many moments of satisfaction. She made it a point to enjoy every one that came her way.

  *****

  “Dude,” Marcus muttered from the back seat of the Camry. “Your little getaway weekend sucks.”

  He could see the edge of Justin’s responding smile in sharp profile. “Guarantee you forgot Clarissa for at least a little while.”

  The name caused a quick stab of pain despite the fear of the outlandish moment. His eyes were fixated on a car that would soon, no doubt, produce the man that was going to kill him. He shook his head; the unfathomable mysteries of the Human heart.

  “Until you had to mention her, asshole.”

  The car in front of them shifted on its springs. The big fat man must be getting ready to emerge. The gun was empty, their car was dead. It all came down to this moment. Everything in both their lives had led them to this little stretch of pathetic, backwoods road in the middle of Nowhere, Connecticut, and they were going to die here.

  The rush of lights behind them was like a sudden, unexpected sunrise. The entire scene was cast in stark illumination. The ground around them, the trees off in the distance, and the car idling not twenty feet in front of them were all lit with brilliant, shifting light. It swooped and flashed, shadows sliding wildly all around, and a hurricane wind slapped against the Camry, churning billowing clouds of dust and smoke in all directions.

  Marcus twisted in the back seat, looking out through the broken remains of the window, but all he saw were the swirling clouds and beams of sapphire and diamond-white light as whatever had caused the disturbance lifted up and over the car.

  “What is it, a helicopter?” He shouted the words, although there was almost no sound. If it was a helicopter, it was some kind of bizarre, stealthy, government type.

  Justin snapped out of his immobility, craning his head around the steering wheel and against the windshield, twisting his neck to look above them. His entire body froze as the lights speared down from overhead. He slid back into his seat as if his bones had turned to liquid.

  “What? What is it?” Marcus reached into the front seat and grabbed his friend’s shoulder, but Justin just flopped around, staring straight ahead.

  Whatever was casting the lights seemed to move forward as the wild shadows shifted around them. Marcus could just make out the snout of something huge poking out from above the car’s roof before it halted, hovering there above them, sending the tree branches whipping violently, dark clouds of dust and dirt swirling all around. Whatever it was, it was huge, and brightly lit, and still made almost no sound. A low throbbing tone seemed to make the entire car vibrate, but it was no louder than distant, gentle thunder.

  The moment stretched on. The dark car across from them, its single headlight carving a solid column through the billowing clouds, seemed to shrink before this new threat. There was movement behind the shattered windshield, light from the hovering beast above them finally piercing the gloom. Marcus saw the face of the fat man pressed against the glass, his hands pushing outward as his mouth stretched impossibly wide in a scream of denial. There was more movement around and behind him, strange shapes writhing and curling in the shivering shadows.

  A bolt of lightning stretched out f
rom the hovering vehicle and Justin and Marcus both flinched down in their seats. A deafening roar engulfed their car, which shook with the fury of a primal storm. Both men screamed, reaching out to grasp anything that might offer some stability. The car continued to rock, sapphire and crimson lights flashing through their clenched eyelids.

  The shaking of their car subsided, but the detonations continued as a series of thunderous blows landed, each accompanied by a hellish glare visible right through the steel of the car. Marcus could not control his curiosity any longer and pried one eyelid open just enough to peak through the windshield.

  The car that had pursued them from the parking lot of the Happy Hunting Ground Casino was gone. Only a blasted and scorched crater remained, twisted limbs of steel reaching up into the chaotic swirl of lights above while tattered fragments of cloth flapped madly in the whipping wind.

  Marcus reached out with a hesitant hand and tapped on Justin’s rigid shoulder. One eye opened, wide and white in his friend’s dark face, looking wildly around as if trying to piece together how they could still be breathing. Marcus raised one shaking hand to point out the windshield, and his friend gasped as the scene before them penetrated his panicked mind.

  The lightning had ceased, and the object hovering above them began to move again, swinging wide around the clearing, away from the bridge and the burning crater, to settle beside the canyon edge. Both men could only stare.

  The hull was a shining metallic blue, with silver details flashing along its flanks. With a body about the size of a school bus, something that looked like a head thrust out from massive shoulder-like assemblies that led out to a vast complex of wings, several on each side. It took a moment for Marcus’s mind to register that many of the wings were not attached in any visible way to the hunched cowlings, but seemed to float independently of the vehicle and each other. A primary wing stretched out to either side, around which the others shifted and slid as it maintained its station above the ground. Each of these main structures housed a swirling ball of energy within a socket piercing them halfway down their length. The sockets were spinning furiously against the flow of the glowing spheres.

  The head thrusting toward them was the same blue and silver as the rest of the vehicle, except the upper section, which was covered in a darker surface that glared and flared with reflected light and fire. It regarded them silently as if waiting for them to do something, but neither man moved, both pinned in place by the terror of the moment.

  As if losing patience, the vehicle heaved upward, all of its disconnected parts spreading out for a moment, and then the wings condensed, the constituent control surfaces sliding into position around the main wings until these moved back against the fuselage, sliding into the large housings as the whole thing lowered to the churned and twisted ground. Clawed landing feet slid from within its body, and the enormous thing settled onto the ground. The balls of furious energy within the wings seemed to settle down, slowing and darkening as the wings folded back along the vehicle’s hull.

  Justin did not move, staring at the surfaces about fifteen feet above them. Marcus scrambled back into the front seat, staring up as well. His hand fell upon the string of jewels that he had left forgotten on the seat, and with a slight twinge he absently pushed them into a pocket as he settled back, keeping his eye on this mysterious thing that had saved them in such a spectacular fashion.

  Beneath the raptor-like head, a light appeared as a section of the hull slid away to reveal a hatch whose size was lost in the vastness of the rest of the ship. A dim red light shone out from the interior, and a ramp slid down, digging a small trough into the roadside dirt. A shape rose up out of the dim lighting, standing at the top of the ramp, and the moment seemed heavy with significance he didn’t understand.

  The figure began to move down the ramp. Its movements were lithe and easy, and yet still managed to convey a clear sense of annoyance. As it stepped onto the dirt, illuminated by the softly pulsing lights on the vehicle behind, Marcus was surprised to see that it was a woman. He did not know quite what he was expecting, but a tall woman with long flowing white hair somehow missed the mark.

  “Wow.” Justin muttered under his breath, and Marcus knew that his friend had made the same realization. She stalked toward them at an easy pace. She wasn’t running; nothing she did made it seem like she was in any sort of a hurry. She seemed irritated that she had needed to emerge, and impatient to be gone.

  As she approached, they could make out more details. She was wearing dark, form fitting clothing. Not skin-tight, but more like a uniform, or exercise gear. She wore a belt that seemed to hold several pieces of equipment, none of which reminded them of a weapon of any kind. Only her face and hands were visible, both darker even than Justin’s ebony skin. And her hair, flying loose in the wild, remnant wind, looked silver, picking up the glowing lights behind her.

  She stopped about twenty feet from their wrecked car, her hip cocked to one side in an unmistakable sign of displeasure. She yelled something to them, but neither man could understand the words over the wind and the ringing in their ears. Placing her hands on her hips in irritation, she shouted even louder, but her meaning continued to elude them.

  “Um … is that English?” Marcus was cold, shaking slightly; shock. He felt as if he were in a dream. “I’m not sure I understand what she’s saying.”

  Justin shook his head. “I don’t think it’s English.”

  The woman did not stomp her foot, but somehow gave that impression nonetheless, and then shouted something yet again. This time she was loud enough they heard her clearly. Clearly enough that they could both say with confidence that it was not English.

  “French?” Marcus’s could not tear his eyes away from the figure, backlit by her strange, terrifying transport.

  Justin snorted despite the fear and shock. “French?”

  Marcus shrugged. “Canadians? I don’t know, I’m guessing.”

  She just stood there, somehow conveying a dangerous, growing anger. “I think we need to get out.”

  “She saved our lives, yeah?” Justin’s voice had the brittle edge of forced positivity. “I mean, she could just have easily have killed us too, right?”

  Marcus nodded. “Yeah. I guess.”

  He forced his door open without taking his eyes off the strange woman. He grunted as he swung his legs out and levered himself upright. He was staring right at her face, and so there was no doubting her reaction when she saw him.

  The black-skinned woman’s eyes widened as he emerged from the car, staring at him in utter disbelief. Her mouth fell open, white teeth gleaming, incredulous. She was beautiful, some distant part of his brain noted. Her eyes were almond-shaped, her nose straight, her lips full above a sharp, defined chin. The hair billowing about her was pearly white, giving a further alien strangeness to her face. And she was not at all happy to see him.

  The driver’s door of the Camry creaked wearily as Justin pushed it open, and Marcus watched the woman’s eyes slide to the side, widening even more as she watched him rise. Her hand snapped to one of the containers on her belt and she crouched down as if ready for a fight, but when Justin made no threatening moves, her eyes narrowed and she relaxed a little.

  She looked both of them up and down, her mouth still open, her eyes widening again. A frightening realization dawned in them while Marcus watched, and she seemed to crumble, despair washing across her fine features. Her shoulders slumped and she turned slightly to look at the burning wreck nestled in the bottom of the newly-formed crater she had blasted into the old surface of State Road 189.

  Marcus and Justin shared a confused glance. The large vehicle, whatever it was, rumbled softly behind her, strange and menacing. The blasted ruins of the car that had chased them from the casino burned fitfully in the last eddies of turbulent wind. The trees of the northern Connecticut forest whispered empty thoughts back and forth to each other. And this strange woman stood before them, exotically beautiful, clearly formidable, and
obviously very upset.

  “Um … thanks?” Marcus didn’t know what else to say. That seemed entirely inappropriate and inadequate, but it was the best he had.

  The woman glanced back at him; her eyes strangely empty, then to Justin, then back to the burning car. She moved to the wreck with a heavy, listless gait. She ignored the two men before her as she walked. She stopped at the edge of the crater, staring down, her dark face outlined in shiny highlights from the guttering flames.

  Exchanging another look, Justin and Marcus moved around the Camry, walking together to the blasted crater. The twisted wreck at the bottom was barely recognizable as a car. A strange glowing void in the abstract mess had to be where the windshield had been, and Marcus tried to make sense of the twisted knot of blackened matter sitting, as best as he could tell, where the driver would have been. There was nothing Human there at all, and he felt his gut twist at this reminder of mortality.

  The woman stood still, staring into the crater, showing no sign that she had noticed either man walking up behind her. The glowing lights from her vehicle and the dancing flames had a strange effect on her skin, making it seem more like a deep purple than black.

  “Hey … um … like I said, really. Thanks.” Marcus tried to sidle into the woman’s field of vision without coming too close to the edge of the pit. “I really think he was going to kill us if you hadn’t shown up. You did a good thing, here.”

  Justin nodded, although he stayed in the shadows beyond the crater. “We owe you our lives, miss. Thank you.”

  Something deep in the woman’s violet eyes quivered behind the shimmering reflections of dying flames. She jerked her gaze back to Marcus, then to Justin, and back to Marcus. The flesh around them tightened, her pale eyebrows fell, and she pivoted without warning. Her hands caught Marcus in the chest and she pushed him violently backward.

  With a startled cry, Marcus fell back onto his rear end. He tried to catch himself and only succeeded in taking some of his weight on the points of his elbows, cracking them against the old pavement. He looked up in a combination of fear and anger only to see the woman tilt slightly, one leg coming up to plant a foot on Justin’s chest and push him down also. Both men were more startled than hurt, looking up at the strange woman looming above them, glaring down with undisguised hatred burning in her strange eyes.