Prologue
Lidia looked up as her husband entered the house.
“Marcus, what happened?” Then she saw the child in his arms. “Dear Creator! Is that—”
Marcus nodded. “Seámus and Deirdre are dead. We arrived just in time to save Liam.”
The toddler whimpered and clung to him, still in shock. “Mommy, Daddy?”
The two turned as their seven-year-old son, Randolf, entered the room. Randolf’s eyes fell on the child. He looked confused.
“The bugs killed his parents, Randolf,” Marcus explained. “Liam doesn’t have anyone else to take care of him.”
Randolf’s face darkened, and he turned away. Lidia went to go after him.
“No, Lidia. It’s as much a shock for him as it is for us.” “What about the other farmsteads?” Lidia asked.
“They seem okay for now,” Marcus replied. “However, the pro-Founder’s group still won’t allow them into the city.”
“The chitin will butcher them.”
“I agree.” Marcus sat down. “I sometimes wish I could just order the Council to do the right thing, but I’ve read history. When one person forces others to do what he thinks is right, democracies fall. The Council, however, has no say in who we adopt. At least we can save Liam.”
Lidia took the child from Marcus. Tears came to her eyes. She looked up as she held the poor child to her. Standing at the door, Randolf frowned and left the room.
. . . . .
That night, Marcus and Lidia woke to the sound of Liam screaming in terror. Both leaped from their bed. The screams gave way to frightened whimpers as they raced down the hall. When they got to the boys’ bedroom, Randolf was not in his bed. He had climbed into his old crib—which they had set up for the little one—and cradled Liam in his arms as the child clung to him.
Randolf looked up at his parents, his face full of concern. “I think he had a bad dream.”
His parents looked relieved and, after a few moments, left them alone. Randolf glanced at Liam, who looked up at him with desperation in his eyes.
“Don’t worry, Liam,” Randolf whispered. “You’re my little brother now. I’ll take care of you.”
Chapter 1
Twenty years later.
Liam strapped down his armor and slid a knife into his shoulder sheath. Around him, soldiers in the locker room donned armor and weapons. Some were heading to the interdimensional portals in the Military Center to prepare for transport to the city’s defensive outposts. He considered his sniper rifle but decided to use the one at the outpost. Instead, he took his assault rifle—specialized enough to sharpshoot at medium range. After checking his ammo and power pack, he slung the rifle onto his back and slipped his pistol into its holster.
Liam heard familiar footfalls approaching the locker room and smiled.
“Hey, little brother!” Randolf began putting his gear into his locker, then cast a concerned look at Liam.
Other soldiers entered the locker room, having finished their tours at the outposts.
“Hi, Randolf.” Liam strapped a larger blade to his thigh and straightened. He saw the expression on Randolf’s face. “How are things at the outposts?”
“All quiet.” Randolf frowned. “You volunteered for extra duty again?”
Liam sighed and nodded, looking up at Randolf. At two meters, Randolf stood a full head taller than Liam—like everyone else in the city. The handsomer of the two, Randolf had dirty blond hair and ice-blue eyes. He cut a fine figure, especially when he wore his dress uniform. Liam had a more gracile build—slim and lethally agile. He
had dark brown, curly hair, but his eyes were gray. Their mother referred to them as steel-gray.
“I was hoping we could go into the plaza together this weekend.” Randolf put his weapons in his locker. “Festival Day will be here soon. I hoped you would take part this year.”
“You know I’m not comfortable with celebrations.” Liam closed his locker. “I don’t fit in, Randolf. You know that. People aren’t comfortable with me. So, I guess it’s mutual.”
“You don’t even try.”
Liam did not want to argue. “I know what I’m good at, big brother. I can do my part to protect the city and keep the celebrants safe.”
“Father—”
“Father understands.” Liam turned back to his brother, reading the profound disappointment on his face. “Besides, if Councilor Licinious sees me, he’ll make trouble.”
Randolf clenched a fist. “Is that fool still talking about you?” Liam suppressed a bitter laugh. “Which would be a relief.
Usually, he’s shouting about me.” Liam scooped up his helmet and holstered his plasma blade. “I sometimes wonder if he’ll ever accept the truth.”
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I met a priestess last month.” Randolf stripped off his armor and stowed it in his locker. “We’ve been seeing quite a bit of each other. We are planning to meet again this evening—”
“Then you don’t need me along.” Liam grabbed his rucksack with a laugh.
“Actually,” Randolf paused for a moment. “I do want you to meet her.”
Liam stopped and gave his brother a thoughtful look. “This sounds serious. Have you introduced her to Mom and Dad?”
“I was thinking of telling them during Festival,” Randolf replied. “Maybe she has a friend.”
Liam shook his head. “I promised Jorge I’d cover for him so he can be with his family for Festival Day.”
Randolf opened his mouth but shut it. Instead, he put his arm around Liam and squeezed his shoulder. “Take care, little brother.” Liam turned and headed to the portal room for Taho sector.
Randolf watched Liam go. He stood staring after him, lost in thought.
“Problem, Lieutenant?”
Randolf turned with a start. “Sorry, Captain.” “Problem?”
“Just my brother.” He grabbed the things he would need for his shower. “He knows those outposts better than his own bedroom at home.”
Captain Targus nodded.
“I remember when Father first brought him home after his parents died,” Randolf told him. “I was jealous at first. He was about two years old. That first night, we all had to rush to him because he started screaming. Afterward, I couldn’t leave him. I guess I became his big brother that night.”
“Can’t get used to the fact he no longer needs protecting?” the captain asked.
Randolf gave a grim chuckle. “I guess he’s grown up. I used to protect him when kids picked on him. He was always small. They used to wonder why he didn’t blow away.”
“What he lacks in size, he makes up for in agility,” the captain noted, “and he’s a lot stronger than people than people realize.”
Randolf thought back to that incident in training when Licinious’s son attacked Liam. Jochan did not live long enough to regret it. One more reason Liam brought out the worst in that old fool.
“Licinious has been calling him a threat ever since,” Randolf thought out loud.
The captain looked up. “That matter with his son? The boy was a bully and not fit for military service. We made our views on the matter clear. While we wish Liam had just knocked him out, Jochan attacked when Liam was vulnerable—with an actual knife.”
“Now Liam just hides at the outposts,” Randolf slammed his locker closed. “When he should be…”
The captain nodded. “Like a light hidden under a basket.” “What’s more, he’s going to miss Festival. Again.”
“I won’t order him to stay here,” the captain said. “It’s his choice. If we try to force him, we could make things worse.”
. . . . .
Liam stepped out of the portal. “Hi, Jorge.” Jorge looked back at his replacement. “Hi, short stuff,” he replied.
Liam knew Jorge well enough to know he meant no malice. A good-hearted man with the gift of laughter, Jorge was big, even by the standards of the Neo-Etruscans.
“Any trouble here at Taho?”
“Not a sign.” Jorge put his binoculars away. “It seems as if the chitin have given up. Funny, we’ve had no sign of them in the past three years.”
Liam switched his comm to the Military Center’s headquarters. “Taho-331, on station at Taho number three outpost.” He lifted his binoculars and did a quick scan. “Shield barrier force field between Taho and Archer functioning normally. Shield barrier force field between Taho and Grizzly functioning normally.”
“Taho-331, HQ. Confirmed by Archer-077 and Grizzly-010.
Barrier secure.”
Liam switched back to local as they went into the outpost’s locker room. He checked the ammunition locker and made sure everything was in order. “I wouldn’t get my hopes up. They never leave. Once they get your scent, you can’t escape—even in sleep.”
“Still having nightmares after all these years.” Jorge gave him a look of concern.
Liam looked at his friend and nodded. “At least Father taught me a trick to control my dreams.”
They stepped back out onto the platform, and Liam did a quick check of the other four outposts of his sector. The engineers had constructed each against the cliff face with a semicircular wall around its portal and heavy weapon emplacement.
“Well,” Jorge said, “I wish we still had aircraft capability. It would certainly give us a useful advantage.”
“My father still wonders why we can’t find what’s generating that mysterious force field around the planet.”
“How is Marcus?”
Liam was glad to change the subject. “He’s doing well, considering the burden he carries as high councilor. How are Sharina and the kids?”
“Fine, all looking forward to Festival.” Jorge looked at him. “You know, I have been lucky. For the past several years, you’ve taken my place when it’s my turn to be on watch during a holiday. Sharina understands. Maybe I should take my watch this year, and you should celebrate Festival.”
Liam smiled and shook his head. “Festival Day is a time for family, my friend. You have a wife and the twins. You should be with them.”
“Just because you aren’t married doesn’t mean you don’t have a family.” Jorge shouldered his rucksack. “You’ve been a diligent soldier, Sergeant. Everyone who’s worked with you knows you’ve a toughness that belies your size—brave and as ferocious as a bear- lizard. You work hard. You should play hard.”
Jorge picked up his gear. “By the way, Sharina wants me to get you to join us for dinner. Justin and Sylvia want to meet their ‘Uncle Liam.’”
Liam looked sharply at the man. “‘Uncle?’ What have you been telling those kids about me?”
“Only that you’re one of the best.” Jorge laughed. “If it weren’t for you, they wouldn’t have their daddy on holidays.”
Jorge ducked through the portal, back to the city.
“Maybe I should request to stay out here permanently,” Liam muttered to himself.
. . . . .
Randolf felt lucky to have met Teresina. The beautiful blonde was flirtatious and fun. She wore the robes of a priestess. Not full ceremonial attire, but garb that displayed her rank among the priestesses. This uniform also marked her as an empathic healer, should an emergency arise.
“Dinner before we go to the theater?” Randolf asked. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“I know a good bistro near here.”
They held hands as they made their way through the crowded theater district until they reached the café and found a seat. Peter, the owner, came over to them.
“Good to see you again, Randolf,” Peter called.
Teresina looked up at Randolf and smiled. Randolf felt a thrill go through him. Then he remembered Liam and felt troubled. He peered into a glass of water and tried to see his brother in it.
“Hey!” Teresina snapped her fingers. Randolf looked up.
“You know, it’s not polite to ignore your date.” Teresina pretended to be cross. “Especially a priestess.”
“I’m sorry.” Randolf blushed. “I guess I am a little distracted.”
Teresina’s face softened with concern. “You want to talk about it?”
“It’s my brother,” Randolf replied. “Adopted brother, really. He is almost like a real brother to me.”
“It sounds like you’re very fond of him.” “Teresina!”
Both of them started at the greeting.
Two priestesses approached. “So, this is your soldier. We’ve been looking forward to meeting him.”
Teresina gave Randolf an apologetic look. Randolf stood. Both priestesses were as attractive as Teresina. One wore the robes of a high priestess.
“Sorry to barge in. We decided to eat here and just saw you,” the high priestess said.
Teresina gave them a sharp look. “Please join us. This is Randolf,” she replied, trying to hide her annoyance. “Randolf, this is Kia,” indicating the brunette before turning to her friend. “This is High Priestess Celinia.”
Celinia had a slender frame and was not quite as tall as Teresina.
She had a mane of red hair and eyes as green as emeralds.
“Randolf is worried about his brother. He was just about to tell me.” Teresina gestured to her date.
Randolf gave her an uncomfortable look. She returned the stare, saying without words, “Trust me.” Celinia picked up on the mood immediately. She took a seat and indicated Kia do the same as Randolf reclaimed his chair.
“Then, perhaps the Creator sent us here for a purpose other than embarrassing a friend on her date.” Celinia’s tone became official. “Please, start at the beginning.”
Randolf grew uncomfortable with this turn of events but felt the need to talk. “I was just telling Teresina that while Liam is my adopted brother, I can’t help thinking of him as my little brother.”
“Liam is not a name of our people,” Kia noted.
Randolf shook his head. “His family was part of the farmstead people who lived on the plains outside the city.”
All three gave a visible shudder. The massacre of the farmstead folk over twenty years ago meant that the story was far from a happy one.
“My father—”
“High Councilor Marcus,” Teresina supplied.
Randolf nodded. “He had dealings with them. I was very young. Sometimes, he used to bring me with him. They stood somewhat shorter than our people, but not stocky. Petite, I guess. I remember them as very kind, and the wife was a marvelous cook. Even my mother admired her ability.”
Teresina smiled.
“They had a baby named Liam. I met him just after his birth. Being a typical five-year-old, I was curious but not impressed. He was too small to play with. Then, about two years later, Father received a call from them. He left right away. He came back with the baby. Chitin had attacked the farm. I didn’t learn the details until I was older.”
The three priestesses braced themselves. Chitin were a huge, colony insect that stood four to five feet tall and measured seven to eight feet long. They had formidable pincers, and when they reared up, they had sharp claws on their first pair of legs. They had appeared on the planet Etrusci forty-five years ago, and no one knew where they had come from. Then, forty years ago, they started attacking cities. Around the same time, aircraft began crashing on takeoff. By thirty years ago, they had abandoned all the other cities on the planet. New Olympia became the Neo-Etruscan’s last bastion. The chitin decimated the planet’s population. Those remaining had retreated to New Olympia.
“Father and some troops arrived to find the farm destroyed. While they killed the chitin, they were too late to save Liam’s parents or the other farmhands. Father found Liam hidden in an outbuilding. After they buried the dead, Father brought Liam home. My parents adopted him legally. Since then, he’s been my little brother.”
They reached out and placed their hands on his. It comforted him.
“That night, he had a nightmare and woke up screaming. Any resentment I had of him intruding into my family died that night. How could I hold on to it? I appointed myself his protector.”
“He couldn’t ask for a better big brother.” Kia smiled at him. “He’s always had trouble with nightmares. When I was older, Father taught him a trick for controlling his dreams. Liam doesn’t wake up screaming anymore, but…” Randolf searched for words. “He became grim.”
Celinia shook her head. “He will carry those emotional scars until the day he dies.”
“I know,” Randolf agreed. “Then he entered school. He was always a head shorter than everyone else his age and that marked him as different.”
Teresina grimaced. “Children can be cruel, I know. Being his protector, you had something to say about it?”
Randolf gave a bitter laugh. “They sent me to the headmaster for fighting more times than I could count. Headmaster Metie understood but tried to impress on me that there were better ways. Father had a friend in the military—an expert at exotic fighting arts. When we were old enough, he offered to give us lessons. We both enjoyed those lessons. Liam took to it more quickly than I did. Once fully trained, I think he would have protected me from the bullies. The next time anyone tried to bully him was the last.”
The three chuckled.
“You know Councilor Licinious?”
Celinia scowled. “Only too well. Ambitious and cunning, that one.”
“He and Father’s rivalry goes way back,” Randolf noted. “He started trying to use Liam against Father. When Father took Liam in, he called Father a sentimental fool and said he should have left him to his own kind. Liam joined the military after I did. What he lacked in stature, he made up for in skill. Licinious’s son joined too but wasn’t cut out to be a soldier.”
“Jochan was more like his mother than his father,” Kia noted. “You know she died when he was quite young.”
“I imagine Licinious influenced Jochan’s views on the farmstead people,” Celinia put in.
Randolf nodded. “I think his father pushed him into joining the military because of Liam.”
“I heard about the incident,” Celinia remarked. “It’s my understanding that Jochan attacked a fellow soldier while that soldier held a hatch cover in place for Jochan to fasten. Jochan attacked him with a knife, cutting him across the ribs. The soldier used the cover as a shield, and it broke Jochan’s neck.”
“Licinious tried to have Liam charged with murder. Luckily, Jochan was fool enough to attack where we had surveillance, and the tribunal ruled it self-defense. He may have done it to please his father. Licinious is still trying to convince everyone that Liam is a ‘dangerous foreigner.’ He also throws around the term misborn. Liam never felt comfortable in crowds. Now he’s a virtual hermit. He volunteers for the outposts whenever he can. He goes especially during holidays. Everyone he takes over for is grateful, but our parents want to see more of him.”
“And so would you.” Teresina squeezed his hand. “Do you think he’s trying to find peace at the outposts? A peace he can’t find here?”
Randolf nodded. “He doesn’t wake up screaming anymore, but…”
“He lives his life with passion, but no joy.” Celinia tapped her cheek. “I have a thought.”
. . . . .
Once again, Liam raised his binoculars. He scanned across the plains to the wooded hills on the horizon. How long ago since I lived on those plains? Twenty years? Or maybe twenty lifetimes.
He checked the outposts on his flanks. On his right, Devon noticed him checking and waved. Micha, on his left, scanned the horizon with his binoculars. Liam dialed in his comm.
“Anything?”
“Nothing,” Devon reported. “How about you, Micha?”
“I thought I saw something move.”
Liam frowned and focused his binoculars to the area Micha electronically marked. “Stay sharp. If it’s chitin, they won’t advertise their presence. I am going to alert HQ.”
“What? Because Micha—”
“We don’t know what he saw,” Liam interrupted. “We need to report anything peculiar.”
“It may have been my imagination, Sergeant,” Micha replied. “I am nearing the end of my shift.”
“Noted.” Liam lowered his binoculars. “Keep your eyes peeled.” Liam switched channels and used his personal designation. “HQ,
Taho-331.”
“What is it, Sergeant?” Captain Targus answered.
“Taho-333 says he saw something,” Liam reported. “He concedes it might be nothing but sleepy eyes, but—”
“Logged it,” the captain replied. “He might be right, but outposts in other sectors have reported movement. Let’s hope it is just sleepy eyes.”
“I am going to look through the sniper scope,” Liam responded, “and will advise if we get contact.”
Liam switched the comm back to local. “Anything?” “Not so far.”
He stepped into the locker room and went to the ammunition locker. This sniper rifle wasn’t as good as his personal one, but it was here, and it worked. Liam checked the magazine, took some extra magazines, and checked the power pack—full charge. Cycling the magnetic coil, he returned to the edge of the outpost, opened the bipod, set the rifle up, and scanned the surrounding area.
“What are you doing?”
“The sniper rifle has better optics. It also has high velocity projectiles propelled by a magnetic coil—just in case.”
He heard a quick laugh.
Liam scanned back to where Micha had marked movement and traced backwards toward the outposts. Then he spotted it. A surge
of hatred and revulsion went through him. A large, straw-colored insectoid, camouflaged in the dry grass, slowly made its way toward them. In an instant, he took in its flat body, crouched to present a low profile, and its four antennae waving as it tested the air. He fired, and the creature collapsed.
He snapped on his comm to general broadcast. “Taho-331!
Contact! Contact! Contact!”
He lined up another shot and fired. Another chitin stiffened and fell.
“What?” he heard Devon shout, then swear.
A burst of three shots came from Devon’s position. “Taho-330!
Contact! Contact! Contact!”
Micha’s shots rang out. “Taho-333! Contact! Contact! Contact!
We have a big bug problem!”
Taho-332 and Taho-329 both shouted contacts.
. . . . .
“So, my command will require Liam to attend.” Celinia gave them an impish grin. “In full dress uniform, no less. Better still, even Councilor Licinious knows better than to make trouble for a high priestess’s escort for Festival Day.”
Randolf’s spirits rose as he heard Celinia’s idea. His brother would enjoy Festival this year despite himself.
Randolf started when an alert came over his comm. He checked the message, planning to ignore it. Then he froze, his blood going cold. Chitin were moving in on the Taho outposts.
“Randolf, what’s…?” Teresina started as he leaped to his feet. “I’m sorry. This is the one thing that could pull me away. Liam’s sector is under attack.”
Teresina’s eyes opened in shock.
Celinia recovered first. “We’ll come with you to the portals. You may need us.”
Kia and Teresina nodded.
Peter approached with their tray. “I’ll bag it up, Randolf. You can pick it up when you can. I hope Liam’s okay. Tell him we miss his business.”
“Thanks, Peter.”
They rushed toward the ground transports.
“Interesting,” Teresina noted. “For a hermit, many people seem to like your brother.”
Randolf smiled. “I hope we can convince him.” Randolf and the priestesses ran to the street and dialed in a local transport. The automated cab stopped in front of them, and they entered.
“Military Center,” Randolf ordered. “Lieutenant Randolf, priority code Epsilon.”
“Epsilon priority accepted,” the voice on the computer responded. Soon, the transport moved onto the street. The other vehicles moved aside.
. . . . .
Randolf did not wait for the transport to stop before he leaped out and ran to the locker room. Teresina and the others would alert the support people to their presence. He threw on his armor and grabbed his weapons. Then he went to Liam’s locker and grabbed his brother’s sniper rifle. He slung his own assault rifle and dashed to Taho’s portal room. Teresina waited for him.
She squeezed his arm. “Take care,” she whispered, her lips brushing his cheek.
He joined his platoon at the portal.
“Checking clearance,” Captain Targus called over the comm. Randolf waited with growing impatience. He knew if they opened on an overrun position, it could let chitin into the city. He also knew his brother could be dying—or worse.
“We’ve got an opening! Go! Go! Go!”
The portal opened, and the platoon dashed through.
. . . . .
Liam lined up his target and fired in rapid succession. The chitin knew the soldiers had spotted them and abandoned stealth. His chamber clicked empty, and he reloaded. The chitin advanced on the soldiers’ positions. Not for the first time, Liam wished he had taken his sniper rifle. It would be hand-to-claw soon.
“Forces are gathering,” the captain called. “Hang tough.”
Liam swept the field, using the scope on his rifle. He had time. So did Micha. With the chitin almost overrunning Devon, he lined up and fired on the closest and kept firing, hoping to buy his teammate some time, and his rescuers some space.
“Liam! Look out!”
Liam turned as a chitin leaped at him. He swung the sniper rifle and knocked it aside, recovered, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The chitin stopped moving. He could not bring the gun around fast enough. He dropped it as the next one jumped over the wall, grabbed the knife on his shoulder, and flung it in one clean motion. The blade embedded itself in the creature’s head. The chitin slumped to the ground as another attacked. It crouched between Liam and his assault rifle. He whipped out his pistol and fired three shots. This chitin collapsed, as did the next two, but more followed it.
The portal flared, and he heard, “Go! Go! Go!” Shots rang out, and the chitin fell back.
Liam looked over his shoulder and almost cheered as his brother and thirty men charged through.
Randolf tossed Liam his own sniper rifle at a run. “Good to see you, big brother!”
“I hope you left us some,” Randolf quipped as he came up beside him.
More shots rang out as the platoon engaged the enemy. “No worries there!”
“Taho-330’s position is overrun!” Devon screamed. “Don’t open the portal!”
Liam swore. “Permission to take a squad to clear Taho-330’s position.”
His brother hesitated, then nodded.
“Third squad!” Liam shouted, scooping up his assault rifle. “With me!”
Liam leaped the wall and headed to Devon’s position. Knowing that third squad followed, he slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder and cycled his assault rifle as he ran.
Liam and Third Squad made their way across the ridge to the next outpost. Liam saw Devon fighting like a madman, plasma blade in one hand, dagger in the other. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Liam spotted four chitin closing on his own squad. He signaled to the man next to him. They turned and fired several bursts, and the chitin went down. Now he had time.
“Keep going!” he shouted.
He dropped the assault rifle and unslung his sniper rifle. He kneeled and aimed. It felt like an old friend. A gift from his father, he had fine-tuned every part of the weapon so every projectile would hit where he aimed.
Devon tried to keep five at bay. Liam aimed, fired, reset, and fired until he’d killed all five. Devon did not waste time resting. He grabbed a grenade, pulled the pin, and threw it toward the advancing bugs. The grenade wiped a hole in the line. The chitin trying to regroup bought him time and distance to grab his assault rifle and start firing.
Liam slung the sniper rifle and grabbed his assault rifle. A chitin crashed into him. Liam shoved his rifle into the bug as he fell backwards. He landed hard but could still fire. The bug collapsed, but others came up behind it. He kept firing and tried to struggle to his feet. Shots rang out, and he found he was clear. He looked back to his outpost and saw his brother flanked by sharpshooters, waving for him to get moving. Liam rolled to his feet and ran to catch up with his force.
He looked ahead. Third squad had reached Devon’s position.
They’d driven the chitin back.
“Taho-330’s position is secure,” came the call. “Send the reinforcements.”
“On their way.”
“We’re getting heavy weapons set up,” he heard Randolf shout. “Move, little brother!”
Liam ran as fast as he could, trying to catch up with his squad. “Liam!”
A horde of chitin closed in on him. He dropped his assault rifle and shrugged off his sniper rifle. He grabbed his plasma blade and ignited it. Liam refocused his mind, and time around him slowed but had no effect on him.“Stepping out of time,” his teacher had called it. He closed with the bugs, who were startled that he was now on top of them. The first went down in a blur. He rolled under a strike by a second, taking half its legs out. The third head sailed from its shoulders. The fourth and fifth tried to flank him, but he slipped past them and killed the sixth. He dispatched the fifth with a backswing. The fourth died as time resumed its normal course. The remaining four found themselves out of position and scrambled to recover. He pulled his pistol and fired. One came at him. It went down with a blade of white-hot plasma through its thorax. He shot another just as a pincer closed on his arm. The armor kept his arm from being crushed. The chitin lifted him and flung him down the hill. Hard.
Liam saw stars but still struggled to get to his feet. A chitin landed on him, and its claw found the weak joint in his armor under the right shoulder. Liam screamed, grabbed his thigh dagger with his left hand, and shoved it into the bug’s neck. The bug slumped over to the side. Liam tried to roll to his feet, but the last chitin closed the distance before he could bring the knife around to defend himself. A shot rang out. The chitin stiffened and fell.
“They’re falling back,” someone shouted. “They’re falling back.” “Liam!”
Liam heard frantic footfalls coming for him. While unable to pick out his brother’s, he felt Randolf’s presence. Then he remembered no more.
. . . . .
Liam regained consciousness as he felt himself transitioning through the portal.
“Devon?” he gasped.
A familiar hand closed on his. “Devon’s fine, little brother. He, third squad, and you bought time for the other platoon to come through.”
Liam winced at the pain in his shoulder.
Strange hands touched his temples. The headache eased. Other hands moved to his wound. The pain dulled.
“How bad?” Randolf asked.
“Soft tissue damage,” a female voice replied. “And a concussion.” Another female voice.
Liam opened his eyes. The swirl of faces slowed and stopped.
Two beautiful women in priestesses’ robes looked down at him. “So,” said the redhead, “you’re Liam. Your brother told us about you.”
Liam threw a withering look at Randolf, then dropped back to the stretcher. “I thought my brother had better manners. I hope it wasn’t during dinner.”
“Hadn’t arrived yet.” The blonde laughed. “I think he’s feeling a little better.”
Liam looked back at his brother.
“Liam, this is Teresina,” Randolf gestured to the blonde. “The one I told you about earlier.”
“And I am Celinia,” the redhead finished. “Our friend Kia is helping with other injured. Your friend Devon, for one, though he just had some scrapes and bruises.”
“Did we lose anyone?” Liam feared to hear the answer but had to face it.
Randolf’s smile fell. “We lost four in our platoon—Samuel, Titus, Jamie, and Quinticus. We also lost Micha.”
Liam felt his heart constrict.
“The platoon got through the portal, but the chitin still almost overran them.” Randolf told him. “Micha died during a counterattack. It gave us time to use the heavy weapons.”
Liam felt tears coming.
“I’m sorry, little brother,” Randolf whispered.
“No!” Celinia pressed a finger between Liam’s eyes. Her voice softened. “Not now. Grieve later. Sleep.” The voice went lower still. Liam felt himself sinking into the arms of Morpheus.
“Teresina and I will get him to the Temple infirmary. His wounds will quickly heal.”
“Thank you for everything.” Randolf’s voice seemed far away. “Attending Festival will do him a world of good.”
“Huh?” Liam thought as consciousness sped away.
. . . . .
Licinious gave a shiver of fear. Anger boiled just under the fear. He traveled to meet with one of the most dangerous creatures he knew—a creature who could grant him substantial power or tear him to pieces without breaking a sweat. After the attack, he manipulated the schedule so his own people to be on station at Archer sector, allowing him to get out of the city unnoticed. Taking only two armed men with him, the walk to his ally’s hiding place in the hills seemed interminable, and he wasn’t as young as he used to be.
His escort nervously waited at the entrance as two chitin escorted him through the tunnel, deep into the hillside cavern. He had come here several times before but could never shake the feeling he was entering his execution chamber.
I told Azurius about the defenses. Will he be pleased? He just tested them. Pity the chitin didn’t kill Marcus’s adopted brat.
Licinious seethed just thinking about him. They all think I hate the brat because he killed Jochan. While my son turned out to be a disappointment, I’m certainly not happy about it. However, it wasn’t the major reason. That Finnian farm family was providing intelligence to Marcus. It could have disrupted our plans. When I arranged to have them killed, that misborn brat should have died with them. He hated loose ends. If Marcus had given the boy to another farm family, he’d be safely dead by now. If Liam ever discovers my role in his biological parents’ deaths… He suppressed a shudder as he entered the main chamber.
It’s changed little since my last visit—comfortable, but with mismatched furnishings he scavenged. Licinious sniffed derisively. Azurius doesn’t seem to care about decor.
“Well, Councilor,” a voice spoke from the shadows, “we have tested the defenses. They seem impressive to me.”
The voice seemed cheerful. It was deceptive. Licinious knew better than to drop his guard. “As previously discussed, the sabotage wouldn’t be detectable.”
A shadow detached itself from the darkness and came forward. The master of the chitin was not chitin himself. Licinious was familiar with the Gothowan race who looked human, but fine black scales covered their bodies.Azurius wore a military-style tunic with pants and boots. He kept a plasma blade on his belt, though Licinious did not understand why he would need the weapon. His eyes glowed with his mood—red at rest, green when amused, yellow when angry, and black. Licinious suppressed another shudder. At the time, he did not know black could glow. Though he’d only seen the results once, he never wanted to see it again.
Azurius sat down in a comfortable chair. Even in these sparse surroundings, he allowed himself a few luxuries.
“I saw the energy signatures showing the sabotage is in place,” Azurius confirmed. “It will suffice. When the true attack comes, we will activate it remotely.”
“What of that brat?” Licinious asked.
Azurius fixed him with a look. Green. He thought Licinious’s fear was funny.
“Liam, the Finnian boy from the farm?” Azurius asked. “You do seem obsessed with him.”
“He is a danger,” Licinious presumed to warn him. “He looks small and weak, but—”
The glow turned to yellow. “Weak? You put too much importance on size. I know this Liam’s race. They were an experiment—bred for war. I know what they can do. Liam is just beginning to feel his power. He has capabilities you can’t begin to guess.”
Licinious tried not to tremble—to show weakness.
Azurius continued, “I watched him today. Despite his youth, he’s become a skilled fighter. I don’t underestimate him. I also suggest you don’t obsess over him. Obsession can be more dangerous than ignoring him.”
Azurius gave his treacherous ally a bland look. “Allow me to paraphrase the ancient human Bard. If you prick them, do they not bleed? If you tickle them, do they not laugh? If you poison them, do they not die?” Azurius’s eyes turned to an almost stern red. “And if you wrong them, do they not revenge?”
Licinious nodded and closed his eyes. Outwardly, he showed respect. Inwardly, he continued to seethe.
After a moment, he reported, “The Finnian always mans an outpost during Festival.”
Azurius nodded. “Make sure he does this time. Watch carefully and mark to which post they assign him. We don’t want any surprises. Make sure there are none.”
“He will be there,” Licinious assured him. “If it looks like he might alter his habit, I know how to bring him back.”
“Very well.” Azurius waved his hand in dismissal. Licinious departed to make his long walk back to the city.
. . . . .
After Licinious left, Azurius stood, stretched, and walked to the cavern’s mouth. He glanced up at the setting sun. Looking around, he noticed much of the vegetation beginning to change color.
Interesting how seasons change on planets orbiting around yellow stars.
The old excitement before the beginning of a battle washed over him. This feeling recalled the opening of a play by that ancient (and his favorite) human playwright, William Shakespeare’s Henry V.
Oh for a Muse of fire, that would ascend The brightest heaven of invention:
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act,
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
. . . . .
Liam struck out at the chitin that killed his parents. He cut with his plasma blade again and again. Liam bared his teeth with fury. He would have used them as a weapon if he could. They all had to die. It still wasn’t enough.
“It is enough, Liam,” a voice cautioned in his dream. The chitin melted away. The burned-out home dissolved, replaced with a garden and a fountain.
Confused, Liam spun around to face the speaker. Celinia stood there. She smiled, and with her hand, bade him look.
“You can find more pleasant things to dream of.” Her voice came again.
He looked. The beauty of the garden overwhelmed him. A mixture of wild and tame. More than just a pleasure garden. Oddly familiar.
The bushes rustled. Liam whirled; blade ready as a chitin burst forth.
“Enough!” The chitin vanished.
“I can see I will have trouble with you.”
Celinia took his hand. He felt her pull and opened his eyes.
He lay in a bed in the Temple hospital. Celinia still held his hand. “You’ve controlled your dreams to a point,” she observed. “You’re no longer helpless in your nightmares, but you still can’t
defeat them.”
He looked at her. “Why?”
“Because you insist on keeping them nightmares,” Celinia told him.
Her other hand closed around his hand.
“I know you will always carry the emotional scars of that day,” she consoled him. “No child could forget something so horrible, but you don’t have to let it have dominion over your life.”
Liam looked puzzled. “I don’t understand.”
“With those words, you take the first steps on the path of wisdom.” Celinia squeezed his hand. “Dreams are what we make them. Your parents’ deaths hurt. It hurts so much you feel you will bleed to death because of it.”
Liam nodded.
“When you were young, your nightmares were night terrors,” she continued. “You would struggle against your tormentors until you awoke, still struggling.”
“Waking my family in the process.”
“They didn’t mind comforting you, though they wanted a decent night’s rest.” She arched an eyebrow meaningfully.
“Father taught me to control my dreams,” Liam remembered. “‘Look at your hands and feel strength enter you. Then, you can defeat your opponent.’”
“And your family could sleep better,” she agreed, “but you found you could now battle your tormentors, even torment them yourself. Make them pay for what they did.”
He nodded again.
“That hunger is the trap, Liam,” Celinia told him. “Vengeance is always a trap. You have trapped yourself in a dream that won’t give you peace. Rather than fighting foes every night, why not just change the scene, banish the chitin, and have dreams you can enjoy?”
She touched between his eyes, and he fell back through the arms of sleep.
He was back in the garden. Celinia stood beside him. He heard the chitin rustling as if confused by the garden.
“Remember, this is your dream. I can help, but you are in control. They”—she pointed to the advancing horde—“are only a nuisance.”
Liam turned to the horde, which now seemed completely confused.
“Get lost!” he ordered.
The chitin vanished like smoke on the wind. He could not even sense their presence.
“Where is this place?” Liam asked.
“Perhaps a place where your parents took you as a child,” she suggested. “A place where you were once happy? You can explore it whenever you want.”
He turned to her and froze in shock. Her priestly robe had vanished, replaced with a sheer, diaphanous gown which showed her shape. He became even more shocked and embarrassed to find himself robed in something similar. Like everyone else, she was taller than he. He realized where he was staring and looked away.
Her laughter rang like silver bells. “I am not without power over dreams. A brave warrior—yet so bashful.” She reached out, and with her thumb and forefinger on his chin, turned his head to face her. “I find it remarkably charming.”
“Umm.” His eyes flashed downward.
“I don’t mind,” she whispered. “This is, after all, your dream. After so many bad dreams, you need a pleasant dream for a change.”
With that, she drew his lips to hers. Her kiss woke something in him. Yet he feared he would treat her as a hungry man treated a steak. She sensed his concern as they separated.
“I understand. Let me lead.”
He surrendered to her arms as they embraced.
. . . . .
Liam dozed the rest of the day. When awake, his thoughts turned to Celinia. He also grieved for his friend Micha. In the years since they started training, Micha proved methodical and brave. He died a soldier. Liam was slow to make friends, but when he did, the bond was strong. He did not even want to think about losing his brother. A knock distracted him from his brooding. The door opened, and
Jorge popped his head into the room. “Hi, short stuff.”
Jorge pushed the door open, and Liam saw he had not come alone. Sharina and two children accompanied him—a pair of four-year-old twins, Justin and Sylvia.
“Uncle Liam!” The two charged forward before their parents could restrain them. The bed proved only a minor hindrance. They clambered up opposite sides, burrowed under the sheets, and snuggled under each arm, all without hurting his injured shoulder.
Their parents gave him an apologetic look.
“Well, I guess it’s official.” Jorge’s wife sighed. “You’re their Uncle Liam.”
Much to his shock, it felt good. An innocence and love radiated from both. He detected plenty of mischief, but they restrained it for now.
“How’s the arm?” Jorge asked. “Much better,” Liam replied.
“After Festival Day, you will come to have dinner with us.” From the tone, Sharina did not sound like she had made a request.
Liam relented and nodded.
The door opened again. Celinia entered and stopped when she saw Liam was not alone.
“Oh.”
Liam recovered his wits enough to make introductions. “High Priestess, this is my friend, Jorge; his wife Sharina; and their children, Justin and Sylvia. Everyone, High Priestess Celinia, daughter of Thomasia.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Jorge took her hand. His wife also extended hers.
Celinia took each of their hands. “I’m glad you’ve come. I don’t want my patient moping around without company.”
“Children,” Sharina admonished. “Manners.” “Hello,” the two said in unison.
Then Justin announced, “This is our Uncle Liam.” Sylvia piped up, “Are you going to be our aunt?”
Liam almost choked. Jorge and Sharina turned crimson.
Celinia laughed that silvery laugh of hers. “That remains to be seen. It is as the Creator sends.”
The children became solemn as they nodded, respectful of the high priestess’s authority.
Celinia turned to the parents. “Are you related to High Councilor Marcus, or is Liam an adoptive uncle?”
“Adoptive, I guess,” Jorge stammered. “We love him,” Sylvia announced.
Celinia smiled at the parents. “She certainly is forthright.”
Sharina smiled back. “She is at that.” She looked at the twins. “Come on, children. We need to get home. You will see Uncle Liam in a few days.”
The children seemed reluctant but obeyed their mother. They each kissed him on the cheek and got off the bed. Liam felt sorry to let them go.
“I hope you weren’t too embarrassed,” Jorge apologized.
“Not at all,” Celinia replied. “Children can sometimes see what adults don’t. It has been a pleasure meeting you.”
“Likewise.”
Jorge closed the door behind them.
“Interesting,” Celinia observed. “So beloved, and yet you still try to live at the outposts.”
Liam had no answer for her.
She took a chair, pulled it next to him, and took his hand.
“You looked good with the children. You should have children around you.”
“I—”
She pressed a finger to his lips. “I know what I saw, Sergeant.
There is no point denying the truth.”
Liam laid back and enjoyed the feel of her hand in his. “I wonder…”
Celinia cocked her head.
“Perhaps after my parents’ death…,” he started. “I don’t make friends easy. The friends I make, I feel responsible for them.”
Celinia smiled. “I would rather to think of you as a protector rather than a hermit.”
“Perhaps that’s why I switch with Jorge,” Liam mused. “I don’t want his family to think of the Festival, or any holiday, as the day their father died.”
“I think you’re finally looking for an answer,” Celinia noted. “However, you are off this Festival Day. You need time to recover.”
Liam looked at her. “I thought I’d be healed.”
“The wound will be closed,” she replied, “but healing will be more than physical. Jorge told your captain he would take his spot back.”
“What!” Liam tried to jump out of bed.
Celinia restrained him. “Even if you didn’t need more healing, you’re still very weak.”
“Don’t you understand?” Liam demanded. “The chitin are on the move again. They may well strike at Festival. If Jorge—”
“He is a skilled warrior himself,” Celinia countered. “He knows and accepts the risks. The Military Council will take extra precautions—full platoons at the outposts and all heavy weapons ready.”
Defeated, he lay back in his bed.
“Besides, you will have another duty this Festival Day.” Liam looked at her.
“You will be an escort to a high priestess.”
Liam stared at her in surprise. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.” She smiled at him. “Your brother will escort Teresina. I think he’s happy his brother will be there with him.” She smiled impishly. “You might need to protect him from her.”
Liam laughed. However, he still felt troubled.
. . . . .
Licinious looked up as his agent entered. “Yes, Colonel?”
“Sir, the High Priestess Celinia requested the person in question as her escort for the Festival,” the man reported. “The sector captain approved.”
Licinious grunted. Manipulating events had become more complicated than he thought. “The sector captain, Targus, is due for a promotion?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well,” Licinious decided. “Accelerate it. Move him to HQ front desk and give him the next three days off to celebrate during Festival.”
With that part of the problem solved, he considered what to do next. Replacing Targus with his own man would put Liam on his guard, making him wary.
“Tell Major Thomia to rotate in for the Festival,” Licinious ordered. “Then give him orders to recall the sergeant. They won’t discover the deception until after Festival. By then, it will be too late.”
“Major Thomia is highly skilled,” the agent pointed out.
“Thus, they have no reason to doubt him, Colonel,” Licinious replied. “His standing makes him perfect. He won’t realize we have used him until there is nothing he can do to stop it.”
Still, they needed to put Liam off his guard. “The orders should read the sergeant is familiar with the Taho sector outposts, and they’ll need his skills. Also, Liam is up for promotion too. Accelerate his promotion and put him in charge of the sector. He will feel the full weight of responsibility when the sector falls.”
“Very good.”
“Also, time the orders for his recall for the last possible moment,” Licinious commanded. “The less time anyone has to think, the better.”
. . . . .
Festival Day arrived. Liam had seen Celinia several times since being released from her care. When away from her, she filled his mind.
Liam’s parents and Randolf had gone out early that day. Councilors always met for a morning breakfast on the day of Festival. They left him alone with his thoughts.
When a knock at the front door disturbed his musings, Liam went to answer.
A man in uniform stood there. “Message from command, Sergeant.” He handed a sealed envelope to Liam.
“Thank you.”
Liam closed the door and opened the envelope.
From: Military Council
To: Sergeant Liam, Foster Son of Marcus
The Military Council has given orders to promote you to the rank of lieutenant, with all duties and privileges commensurate with that rank. Due to your experience with the Taho sector, you are ordered to report to the Military Center for duty, which includes command of Taho Company’s sector.
Contents of these orders are not to be discussed with anyone and are to be destroyed upon reading.
By order of the Military Council.
Liam read through the orders again to make sure he had not misinterpreted anything. He wondered about the secrecy but decided to get going. He wished he could contact Randolf to let him know. For once, he found himself looking forward to Festival Day, despite the itchy dress uniform. Celinia was going to be upset, but orders were orders.
He went back to his room and changed into fatigues. Then he caught a transport to the Military Center.
. . . . .
Liam saluted the officer at the front desk. He nodded and waved Liam through, picking up the comm, only to say: “He’s here, sir.”
Liam went to the locker room to armor himself. He finished strapping down his blades. This time, he would have his personal sniper rifle with him.
Major Thomia came into the locker room.
“Sorry to disrupt your plans, Lieutenant.” The major removed the sergeant’s stripes from Liam’s shoulders and replaced them with lieutenant’s insignia. “Congratulations. You’ve earned this.”
“Thank you, sir,” Liam replied. “What happened to Captain Targus?”
“Major Targus now,” the major told him. “Off. They recalled me almost the same time they recalled you. I just wish you had time to
share this promotion with your family before being thrown into the bear-lizard’s den.”
“A lot of people made plans.”
“They may forgive us, in time.” The major frowned. “This situation doesn’t feel right. Any of it. Why sealed orders and secrecy for a holiday patrol?”
“I agree.” Liam felt some relief that someone else sensed what he sensed. “I’ll keep my comm on general and keep everyone alert. Permission to give Jorge the day off at least.”
The major shook his head. “You’ll need your full platoon. Orders.
You’ll take charge of the entire company at Taho.”
Liam nodded in resignation. “I’d better get going then.”
. . . . .
Liam stepped out onto the outpost platform.
“Company Commander on deck.” Everyone came to attention.
Liam started but remembered the proper response. “As you were.”
He walked up to Jorge as everyone returned to their duties. “I’ll never get used to that. Report.”
Jorge shook his head. “Nothing so far. So much for our plans.”
Liam sighed. “I normally feel better out here, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.”
Jorge nodded. “Neither can Major Thomia—nor me, for that matter.”
“Stay close,” Liam told him. “Whatever happens, I want to make sure I send you back to your family.”
Jorge pulled closer. “Sorry, Lieutenant. You can’t show favoritism.”
Liam gave him a look of concern. Jorge was still a corporal. Yet, he had helped break in his share of officers.
Jorge softened his voice. “What you can do, if anything happens to me, is make sure they’re okay. I understand if the worst happens, everything is up in the air. Just spare what you can to make sure they’re taken care of.”
Liam nodded.
“Movement!” someone shouted.
Liam raced to the embankment and swept the plains with the scope on his rifle. He spotted the chitin horde at once. “HQ, Taho Leader. Contact! Contact! Contact!”
Liam sighted his rifle and fired. “It’s a full-scale attack!”
Calls of contact rang out from the other Taho outposts.
“I am sounding full mobilization,” the major’s voice came over the comm.
“Heavy guns aren’t firing,” one soldier cried.
“Check the connections.” Liam started shooting at will. “Fire as they come in range! We must hold until we’re reinforced.”
A man grabbed the other sniper rifle and began shooting.
. . . . .
Randolf waited at the Temple of the Creator. He felt annoyed with his brother and worried. It wasn’t like him to be late.
“Where is Liam?” Celinia sounded irritated.
Randolf shook his head. “He should be here. He’s not at home.” An alarm sounded. Then a general announcement came over the public system. “We are under attack! All fighting teams report to your portals!”
Randolf exchanged horrified looks with Celinia and Teresina.
His comm chirped.
He activated it as the others gathered around him for news. “Yes?”
“Lieutenant,” Major Thomia ordered, “I need you back here on the double. It looks like the chitin have organized a mass assault.”
“Yes, sir,” he replied. “Sir, my brother—”
“He’s trying to hold the Taho outposts together. The heavy guns aren’t working.”
Randolf swore.
“I’ll explain when you get here.” The comm went dead.
Randolf did not even address the priestesses. He just ran for the transports. Celinia did not hesitate. She followed, pulling Teresina with her.
. . . . .
Randolf rushed through his weapons and armor as Major Thomia walked into the locker room.
“Sir?”
“Lieutenant,” the major began. “The short story is the captain got promoted, and I received orders to report to the Military Center. I had secure orders to promote Liam to lieutenant and recall him to take charge of Taho sector. With everyone at Festival, I had no one with whom I could confirm the orders. It didn’t feel right. Now, I believe someone set this up. We have a traitor somewhere, but it doesn’t make sense.”
“I’ve got to get to my brother.”
The major nodded, and they both rushed to the Taho portal room.
. . . . .
Liam had switched to his assault rifle when the proximity of the chitin made volume of fire more critical that precision. Jorge and several men struggled to get the heavy weapons back online.
“Sir!”
Liam looked back at Jorge.
“Sir, someone has sabotaged these weapons. If we keep poking, they’ll—”
A tremendous explosion rocked the outpost, followed by a second and third. Liam shook off his shock and cursed under his breath. “This is Taho Leader. Hold off on the heavy weapons. Someone’s rigged them to explode if you tamper with them.”
Liam looked across the ridge. Where three of the five Taho outposts once stood lay smoking craters.
“Taho Leader,” Major Thomia demanded. “What the hell is going on?”
“Sir, we’ve lost three outposts,” Liam reported. “Someone has sabotaged the heavy weapons.”
“We’re getting ready to send reinforcements.”
Liam started to thank him, then froze when he saw the chitin centered on his outpost. “Negative. Leave those portals shut.”
“Lieutenant—”
Ten chitin made it to the barrier and leaped over the wall. Ten of Liam’s men fell before the platoon managed to kill them all. The next wave would soon be on top of them with many more behind them.
“They’re focusing on my position!” Liam called. “Without the heavy weapons, we need to fight in numbers. Which is what they want. They want us to open the portals.”
“Liam, let us pull you out!”
Liam felt the pain in his brother’s voice.
“Sorry, Randolf, there’s no time. Look after Father.” He walked up to the portal and smashed the controls. His remaining troops looked at him in shock.
“We’re it!” Liam shouted. “Jorge, figure out how to make the heavy gun go bang on command. When we about to be overrun—”
“I understand, sir.” Jorge nodded with grim approval.
Liam returned to the embankment. His people set down a withering fire against the chitin, but the bugs kept coming.
The next wave surged forward, almost on top of them. “Grenades!” Liam ordered.
Liam and his men hurled the grenades as the chitin closed with them. With the grenades gone, they returned to the assault weapons. Chitin overran the wall as the last of the ammunition ran out. Pistols and plasma blades became the order. By the time Liam and the survivors retreated to the dead portal, only five soldiers remained. Liam looked at Jorge, hidden in the heavy weapon’s access bay. Liam nodded.
“It’s been an honor, Lieutenant.”
The heavy gun exploded, and Jorge vanished with it. The explosion slammed Liam and the others against the wall. Liam thought of Celinia as he lost consciousness.
