Chapter 622: War In Heaven (1/2)
”Whatever it takes, whatever it costs me, no matter what, I'll do what I must for you.”
”But you might get killed.”
”I know.” - Dambree Limberton, Year Zero, First Invasion of Hesstla, from ”Bloody Ears” documentary
Dambree opened her eyes and realized she had somehow gotten to her feet, her brush blade in her hand, wobbling slightly as she held the blade in guard position and her hand was on her magac pistol, trying to tug it free despite the fact that safety was engaged on the locking holster.
”Yer a pistol,” the Devil said. She was leaning against the door, a cigarette in her mouth, completely naked.
”Where are we?” Dambree slurred, still trying to remember how and why she was in a hexagonal chamber. A brown skinned woman was raising her head from where she was sitting on the floor, knees in front of her face, arms around her legs. Beads and superconductor wiring clicked as she shook her head.
”That was unpleasant,” Menhit said as she slowly got up. She moved over and checked on the careworn male Terran who looked exhausted even in his sleep. ”Petey's still out.”
”He'll be fine,” the Devil said. She looked at Dambree. ”That's hard to explain. We're in mat-trans station Alpha-Sigma. We're less than a mile from our goal. It's dark out, the fusion generators above us in fuel reclamation mode.”
Dambree nodded, then went down on one knee, her hands around the hilt of the brush blade as she began reciting a short prayer for strength and courage.
”I don't remember it hurting that bad,” the male Terran, Pete AKA Marco, said softly. He looked around. ”Auxiliary mat-trans Alpha-Sigma. It's only supposed to be used for emergency services.”
The Devil nodded, smiling. ”Because of that, it has an emergency access port, which is how Howdy-Doody and Tweedle-Dee managed to get in to it the first time. Howdy-Doody's probably every cybersecurity specialists worst nightmare but a South Korean would run roughshod over him in about ninety seconds in an are-tee-ess then mock him with repeating kek.”
Pete nodded, wiping the blood from under his nose. ”I understood everything but the last part.”
The Devil shrugged. ”I'm old, so my references are old. Remind me to tell you about the time back in Dickety-Two me and some friends tied some onions to our belt, not the white ones, you couldn't get those because of the war, so we tied yellow ones on our belt to chase the Kaiser because he stole the word twenty so we had to say dickety,” she said the last part with a mocking grin.
”If you say so,” Pete said. He stood up then leaned against the wall.
”I hate you all so much,” the Devil said, the grin never leaving her face.
Dambree finished her prayer and stood up, ignoring the complaints of pain filled muscles and joints. She was wearing her 'work clothes' with a suit of firm-shell armor underneath that Enraged Phillip, the First Biological Apostle, had given her himself.
She had taken three days, beneath the watchful eyes of Mother Joan, inscribing runes of penance and wrath into the armor with a knife.
The Devil looked them all over. ”I'd rather wait till I was sure all of you were recovered, but despite the time distortions we don't have that much time,” she said. She tapped the door next to her with one bare heel. ”We go through this door, we make straight for Emergency Aux-Con,” she looked at Peter. ”I get you there, I'm not sure how long we'll have.”
”What's the dilation compared to where Sam-UL is?” Pete asked.
Pulling up her hood, Dambree took her mask off her belt and put it on, feeling it seal to the edge of the hood. The mask flickered and came back on and the world looked right again.
A terrible signing emptiness filled her again as she hefted the carefully sharpened brush blade.
”Sixty to one. It's six to one where Team One is at between Sam and them and ten to one between us and Team One. The other teams have their own issues, so I'm doing in dilation order,” the Devil said. She turned and faced the door. ”Cams say the room's empty, but let's find out,” The Devil exhaled smoke and turned the handle on the door.
The door clacked and the room filled with mist. Dambree's mask struggled, trying to filter it out the same way it filtered out fog and snow.
”It's clear,” Dambree heard the Devil say.
The mist flowed out of the chamber and into the room beyond. Dambree walked silently after the Devil, following in her footsteps. She glanced around, taking everything in.
The computer consoles looked impossibly old to Dambree's untrained eyes. Big, bulky, with LCD monitors that you usually only saw in educational tri-vee shows. The consoles were heavily armored on the sides facing the hexagonal chamber that was in the middle of the room and would provide excellent cover for any attacker who exited the chamber.
Dambree nodded, looking around. The temperature was only slightly above freezing and she could see no plumes of breath, meaning either nobody was there or they were armored or otherwise had breath control.
”Follow,” the Devil said.
Dambree was silent as they moved through the facility. It was abandoned, it felt to Dambree like some of the older cabins around the lake. Not the ones from the camping resort, but old ones that had been abandoned and half collapsed.
She could remember hiding in one for several days while the nanite medical injection did its work to heal up the spear wound through her stomach. The way the rain pattered on the rotted wood, the way the moss smelled, the way she could see the edge of the lake and the way the water sparkled.
She also remembered how, after she had healed up from the miraculous Terran medical injection, she had gone on to kill two dozen Red Tips who thought that she was no longer guarding her young siblings.
They stopped long enough for the Devil and Pete to get protective suits. Dambree watched the hallway, alert for any danger.
”I thought you said Sam-UL was pushing at the mat trans system,” Peter said when they existed the facility to see robots standing around.
”There's just over two thousand on them on this layers alone,” the Devil said. ”He had to pick and choose, but there's a reason he didn't go for this one.”
”Why?” Menhit asked, looking around.
”Be silent and listen,” The Devil snapped.
Dambree cocked her head, closing her eyes.
She could hear wind, the faint buzzing of power transmission lines, odd sounds she had no name or reference to, the sounds of industry far in the distance and...
Screams. Screaming. Enraged bellowing.
”Screaming Ones,” Menhit said.
The Devil nodded. ”And ghosts,” she shrugged. ”Not that they bother me. Someone told me they can cause physical harm to people though and I have no reason to disbelieve them.”
”We need to make haste,” Menhit said, looking around.
”I thought you can handle phasic shades,” the Devil said, walking at a brisk clip.
”I can,” Menhit said.
”Good, that's why I brought you,” the Devil said. ”That fails, I got Psycho Bunny Killer here for up close and personal,” the Devil looked at Dambree. ”You worry about Peter and only Peter. You protect him even if Menhit and I are getting our guts ripped out.”
”I know,” Dambree said, her voice empty.
The Devil made a tossing motion and a blue line suddenly appeared in Dambree's vision.
”There's the route. It'll update automatically,” the Devil said. ”You get him there, you guard him. That's all you do.”
”I know,” Dambree said.
”Good,” the Devil turned away and Dambree moved closer to Pete, putting him on her left so that he wouldn't be in the way if she had to start swinging the brush blade.
Dambree cocked her head when sounds reached her. Flat banging sounds. Projectile weapons from the sound of it, but not like any Dambree had ever heard.
”Damn,” the Devil said. ”Sam pushed some Screaming Ones in between us and our destination,” the Devil pointed at a building. ”We'll cut through there while momma's boys draw them off.”
”Who?” Menhit asked. ”You said nothing about momma's boys.”
”You didn't ask,” the Devil shot back. She put her hand on the security pad and the door beeped and opened. ”Get in.”
Dambree stepped in front of Pete, moving first into the door.
”Who are momma's boys?” Mehnit asked.
”Call them Calgon,” the Devil smiled.
”I do not understand,” Menhit said.
Dambree knew that nobody was supposed to. The Devil spoke in riddles, half truths, and while she never outright lied she lied through omission of details.
”Not my problem,” the Devil said, leading the small group into the darkness.
The group stopped next to a set of armaglass doors that overlooked a parking lot.
Dambree stared at the scene beyond the doors.
Flickering white shapes screamed and attacked each other, attacked vehicles, beat their heads on the pavement. Two female Terrans were screaming and slamming their faces against the armaglass, blood running from their nose, eyes, mouth, and the pressure cuts on their foreheads.
”There are phasic shades beyond this door,” Menhit said.
”Yeah. They can't really hurt me,” the Devil shrugged. She looked at Menhit. ”This is why I brought you.”
Menhit nodded and closed her eyes. She pressed her hands together took a deep breath...
and began to sing.
”We have always walked this path,” Menhit sang. A glow started to emit from her.
Dambree put her body in between the glow and Pete.
”It's all right,” Pete said, putting his hand on Dambree's shoulder. ”It's why she's called 'the Singer', little one.”
Dambree felt doubtful as Menhit kept singing, the glow getting stronger.
”From out birth we knew the light,” Menhit sang.