Chapter 38: 37: MOTHERLODE

EHF-ELF-IR-CO-O2-OEP

Adam huffed within the Silatem helmet, his finger jamming against manual inputs and what looked like touch-sensitive panels. Numbers changed in a steady stream on the visor and whenever he turned his head the data on display changed, blinking insistently as if everything was important to notice. A sensor installed somewhere in the rear of the helmet kept flicking on and off with his touches, though he didn't know which touch did what.

"Fuck…me," he muttered to himself, lowering his head and staying still to keep the display from flowing through more insistent advisements. A few more scattered touches made all the gauges disappear, leaving him with a blank screen.

That—Adam could manage.

He peered to either side before cutting through an alley that lay between crumbling private homes, pausing to stoop low and observe his surroundings. Already minutes south of the carepoint he'd escaped under the nose of Lieutenant Davies, his plan wasn't more developed than stealing gear from an inventory left wide open in trust of Silatem hunters. However, Adam knew he should head back to the temple where it all started, where Elias refused to let him stay. Ascension would commence at any moment and the temple, primed for the arrival of the twin moons with its glass ceiling, was where an Isten Dar fanatic like Jackal would return after launching such a devastating plot, regardless of any barter made with Adam—or maybe even moreso because of it.

Patterned blinks of emergency lights from a CDFD vessel flew overhead, circling close to the fires and loosing showers of white dust, an effort Adam recognized as releasing flame retardant materials. Detonations—explosions—flared in Westmont, adding to the building turmoil. He refused to wait while the danger escalated—not after he’d promised Talitha they'd leave together no matter what. He’d make sure that happened too.

Adam rose from his crouch and peered back and forth, a light mist of rain striking his arms and stinging the wounds and bruises marring his skin. His hand grazed the pistol on his hip, the weapon holstered snugly beside the long hunting blade he’d swiped from the cruiser, and broke out of the alley onto another avenue, raising his head to peer at the smoke in the sky as he ran across the empty road.

A shamble of movement ahead matched Adam’s pace and caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He slowed to a stop, spotting a figure a good twenty meters away at the opposite end also slowing. Under the glow of the solar lamps stood something that looked human, although discoloration mottled its bare and hunched-over form.

His touch returned to the pistol and his heart spiked at the sound of a shrill, low parasitic hiss trailing down the empty street. The helmet, without its unending visor displays and measurements, failed to confuse his appearance to the creature like he'd expected. He eased a few steps forward and jammed his fingers against the mask's numerous inputs, urging it to reawaken like before.

"Come on," he muttered, increasing speed in his escape while the creature did the same with its advance. "Piece of shit," he spat. "Fuck this helmet. Fuck me. Fuck…Silatem!"

He made it a few more steps before the parasite lunged into action, powering at him on all fours. A grunt escaped Adam and he ran towards the alley, passing through a run-down fence just as the parasite's howls grew louder behind him.

The fence opened to another alley, one with paths leading in opposite directions. Adam’s gaze skirted between both options before darting to the left, propelling his body forward at hurtling speed down a narrow passage. His eyes stretched wide when he turned the corner and almost charged into a fence enclosing a small backyard. He thundered to a stop right before he crashed face-first and his heart jumped as the parasite's shriek followed behind now paces away.

Adrenaline pushed him and he twisted in the opposite direction, his back hitting the exterior wall of an adjacent home right as the creature leaped through the air past him and bashed into the barrier instead, striking the metal links head-first. Adam darted into motion through the passage as it recoiled, howling with hunger. Blood pounded in Adam’s ears.

Shit, he huffed somewhere in his forgotten breathing.

Shit.

Adam hurried back to the alley where he’d found the dual paths and retreated, yanking the pistol out of the holster and spinning around to aim at the intersection. The parasite bounded past where he waited toward the other end of the double-ended passage and he waited until it circled back a split second later, realizing the error. Adam's finger yanked the trigger and—he found resistance. Alarm flooded his senses and terror clutched. He froze in place.

Pistol didn't fucking work either.

"Shit!" he barked.

Adam heaved out of the way as the parasite lunged and charged toward the double paths. Before he could try the second route a dark figure appeared in his line vision. In that same instant Adam spotted a mask—the same type he'd worn earlier to guard himself against the roving parasites.

A different fear chilled him. His gaze zeroed in on the muzzle of a firearm aimed right for his head and he ducked immediately at the sight, whipping his attention upward at the sound of the parasite leaping over him. The figure in rebel gear opened fire. Adam darted aside as the parasite hit the ground.

The masked stranger passed by Adam with firearm extended, firing point-blank at the creature's stretched, snarling face. The body shuddered when it hit the ground—used to be a man judging by the build but was no longer—and the blast busted open its skull, revealing a mess of blackened red. Adam watched the rebel crouch down to jab the parasite in the chest with a pointed tool, twisting it for emphasis before concealing the weapon again.

Adam scrambled backward and planted his hand against the partition, using it as an anchor to pull himself back to his feet. The rebel rose as well and pointed the firearm at Adam, who snapped his pistol up as well and aimed as if he knew what he was doing. His breath was short and shallow inside of the helmet. An accented voice that sounded as young as his called out.

"Safety's on," said the stranger. "You won’t get far like that."

Adam glanced at the weapon for a split second before narrowing his gaze, calling back. "Who are you? One of Jackal’s?"

"Not anymore. That helmet you have on, that body vest—I recognize the manufacture. Are you with Silatem?"

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the parasite laying behind the rebel. "Yeah," he responded at last. "I’m with Silatem. What do you mean, not with Jackal anymore?"

"Jackal went mad. Happened over the past few years and escalated as Harvest approached—we felt the changes from the top-down as this plan escalated. We started to believe…he cares more about destroying humans than protecting the fruits of El-Akalut or transcending with the mysteries of Ipir. Destroying humans at any cost even if he destroys the ones who fight for him. Dying for the cause, to him, was as rewarding as winning the battle and told us so repeatedly, even when he changes our goals on his whims."

"We? All of you?"

"No. Some. We assisted you—Silatem—and Captain Pendergast tonight. There are many others who agree with him with passion, that dying’s better than allowing the poisonous influence of humanity to spread." The rebel lowered his weapon even though Adam's remained raised. "Jackal’s discovered us—the traitors. We returned your women, ones he designed to allocate to the gangs, to your officers and he’s retaliated. We also intervened to help that hostage you assisted by firing at Jackal escape from the temple. Assisted that female admirer of yours, the blonde one, to get inside Jackal’s private passage too, disrupt his action against the captain. We’re glad she succeeded.” He glanced aside, as if deep in personal thought. “I might be the only one of us left alive. I can't find anyone else—the brothers who separated with me. I'm searching now. My hopes are low."

"How did you find me?"

"I followed you from the PHS camp after I saw you leave the Silatem vessel I pursued. Seemed like you were disobeying orders by the way you hid as you moved. Don’t think you’re authorized to be out here right now. Am I correct?"

"What's your name?"

"I won't share it."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Adam grit his teeth. "All of you that work for Jackal are damn liars. You're leading me to another trap."

"Turn the safety off your weapon. I can see the muzzle’s blocked. You'll find the input along the rear of the pistol and it'll allow you to fire. Press it and release a projectile into the grass as a test."

The rebel backed away a few paces, standing behind the motionless parasite in wait for Adam to follow direction. Adam moved his thumb along the body of the firearm until he found the input and pressed it. A small resistance indicated that his touch had registered and he shifted his body sideways, keeping the rebel in his line of sight as he fired.

The pistol jolted back smoothly in his grip and a molten round barreled forth, burrowing into plasticine blades of fake grass with sizzling sound. Adam turned to the rebel and jerked the pistol back, narrowing his lids with suspicion as he aimed.

"Why’d you tell me that?"

"You might have a better chance of surviving the fight you're looking for, since it's obvious you're not Captain Pendergast—just his teenage brother. That’s a terrifying thought. You’ve got no idea what you’re getting into and you’ll need all the help you can get."

"Yeah. Right. I’ve got a terrifying effect, but not the way I intend. Who told you how to operate our weapons?"

“I’ve had opportunity to test them myself.”

“Are you holding one of our builds?”

“Perhaps.”

“If you’re not with the company then you shouldn’t have one.”

“Ha.”

Adam kept aiming as he jabbed his fingers against the helmet. "Well. I guess I can fill in the blanks myself. Don't suppose you know about this one, do you mate?"

"No." The rebel shook his head. "I haven’t had access to your armor—yet. You're on your own. A few weeks ago I would’ve gladly slit your throat and taken Silatem's technology back to Jackal but I won't do that now."

"Great. Thanks. That’s how strong friendships are built—lack of murder." Adam felt around for another line of inputs and pressed them, achieving a blip of activation and the return of insistent measurements. Now the cascades of unintelligible readings were a relief to see. "What did you do to that thing? Looked like a termination but nothing happened."

"They don't decay anymore from regulation tactics. The parasite perpetually reanimates and regenerates dead bodies with its innate healing mechanisms for self-sufficiency—even those long dead. Corpses are trapped here forever in mutation, falling apart until they’re destroyed completely. Immortal in a different state than usual, I suppose." The rebel pointed at the parasite. "Impaling them with a stake through the heart disables them for a while, interrupts the flow of energy. Moreso than damage to or removal of the head—they can still move after decapitation. Tell that to the captain, though I'm sure he’ll figure that out."

"All right."

The rebel gestured, still unperturbed by Adam’s aim. "Come. I’ll get you discreet access to the temple, the same way I instructed the female. Jackal’s hidden a motherlode under City Hall and his personal passages behind the stage contain links to the more underground tunnels. I—we—Girusima…rather, Firestorm in Unispeak—or whoever our group used to be…don’t know exactly where they go, or which path leads to the motherlode. Only that the motherlode exists."

“Motherlode?” Adam eased his aim, glancing behind him as he heard more shrieks. "Motherlode of what?"

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"Ether. Lots of it, pressurized and ready to blow. The kind of load major vessels—even spacecraft—would use. That’s what Jackal told us when he said he’d destroy Westmont before Union can use the mines. That he’d wait for Captain Pendergast to arrive in order to take him down with everything else."

"My brother will stop him."

"I don't believe that's possible. It’s too late."

"You'll see. This is personal—for both of us, for so many reasons. I’m here right now because your boss took another hostage, a girl—"

"Talitha." The rebel nodded. "Pure-blood of the highest order. Vangrali and bred from the holy land, like him, and tied closely to the blood of the prophet. One of his many children but favored due to her heritage. Her mother."

"You know."

"Yes. He'll bring her there too, as bait for the captain. For you, if you dare to show."

"Okay."

"Are you ready? This beast sent out a signal to its brood that food was near before I incapacitated it. A swarm will be on the way to inspect. I don't think you know how to function that equipment—"

"I figured it out."

"Perfect. Let's go."

"Wait." Adam raised the weapon again. "You're being helpful. Came out of nowhere to give me a lot of information fast, even stating you’ve been helping us all along when you were part of the reason all of this is happening. Still think you're trying to screw me over and lead me to another trap like the rest of your kind."

"War creates unusual partnerships. That's what we're in now together—a war. Your interests and mine are the same right now even though they weren't before. They might not be again in the future. We can be allies today, if you’d like. Friends without murder, as you stated, even."

"Right. Real confidence builder."

"I'm going to the temple. Whether you are too or not is up to you. Good luck gaining entry from the front—those stairs are destroyed. The western garden's also not in great shape. It'll only get worse from here."

The rebel turned and walked down the alley at a brisk pace, leaving Adam behind aiming at his back. Adam watched him reach the end of the alley before he lowered the pistol, hurrying after the masked young man.

Loud, rapid hums followed by a cascade of deafening rumbles stopped Adam in his tracks. He turned his head and looked at the sky to see orange flames, the same fire-color as their sun, engulf the stern of a CDFD emergency vessel, leaving it trailing plumes of billowing black smoke.

Adam's eyes widened as the humming sound returned and another pair of pulses flashed through the fog, striking the damaged CDFD vessel. His jaw dropped as he watched the flaming ship streak past them toward Kidish Pass.

"Something hit that craft!" he shouted, the amplifiers of the helmet now functional and emitting his voice into the air as he ran. "That was a pulse weapon. Someone attacked CDFD!"

"CDPD has offensive capabilities on their field cruisers," said the rebel, watching the emergency lights soar past them. "CDFD's response vessels don't as a defensive unit."

"CDPD," repeated Adam, dumbfounded. "Jackal. Jackal's in that CDPD cruiser. The one he stole."

"Yes."

A crash from an immense amount of glass breaking reverberated through the sky, sparking their attention back to the opposite direction. Smoke billowed, enough that the risen twin glowing moons became an almost a forgotten presence above.

"What was that?" asked Adam. The numbers on his visor altered rapidly from the new action in the sky. "That crash—sounds like something shattered."

"Jackal's landed in the temple," replied the rebel. "He's ready for the final phase of his Harvest offering."

"He landed through that dome roof?"

"Yes. Now get to action. If you fall behind I won't look for you. Alliances don't last forever."

The rebel moved without warning, breaking into a run down the road. Adam sprinted after him, glancing at more of the twisted, rabid creatures converging within the alley that he’d fled. He paused, watching them with his hand on the helmet to see if they would spark to attention, and after they ambled past without noticing him he turned back toward the rebel, catching sight of the figure in black disappearing down another alley. Adam broke into a run and followed the young man back towards the temple.

☼ ☼ ☼

Talitha's lids fell downcast—heavy—as Jackal stooped beside her, tightening the chain around around her wrist to adhere her to the arm rest and fastening it so tight that she couldn't move. He'd done the same to her torso and other wrist already, securing the restraints with separate small key cards he wore on a rope around his neck. The chains were from the CDPD inventory, ones meant for wild animal control.

She averted her eyes when he smiled, stroking her leg with his scimitar, black gaze always unblinking.

"Do you feel the energy around us, Talitha?" said Jackal, scraping the blade lightly against her thigh. The scrawled runes marked over his stony face seemed to shift with life under the bright interior lights of the CDPD cruiser, his sharp features alight. "That's ether flowing, my beautiful child. Energy for you, energy for me—a gift from Ipir for our native blood, for us, the immortally divine. Pure. Perfect. You, most of all from my brood, will absorb this sensation. You should feel stronger now. Surpassed and…" His voice quieted. "Electrified. Tell me your blessings, hibti. I’ll listen intently and feel your pleasure as if it were my own."

She didn't respond but Jackal didn't care. He preferred to hear himself talk—that was something Talitha learned fast and obeyed. Better to let him talk, talk as much as he wanted, and imagine that she desired what he did, to avoid him trying…anything else while she was alone in his presence. He was her father by unfortunate genetics, maybe, but she refused to believe the creature beside her was anything more than animated scum. A small movement of her wrists brought her pain and she suppressed reaction, although Jackal still caught sight of her discomfort with interest. He watched her settle down, her lids closing in defeat.

"That hurts, I'm sure. No matter how you shift your weight, you understand pain. That’s the point. You’ll understand severe reality, both within and without, and that great power beyond known realms lies in that seed of understanding. There’s an existence beyond the expanse of time and space, even beyond this physical shell, if you would submit to my instruction to master your weakness. But, despite the lessons I could share with you—the many gifts I could bestow to my own blood—I’m forced to leave you…safe, whole, and untouched. For now.” Jackal wagged a finger at her. “Only for now. I suffer for that wait too, since I’d rend you to pieces to discover how much like your mother you are, if your taste aligns with hers. You look…like Isira." He lapsed for a moment in his thoughts. "So much like her, as if she were before me again. Isira stood at my side for centuries as my favorite and I remember her presence—her great wisdom. Well-schooled in ancient lore and mysteries."

Talitha recoiled when Jackal leaned close as if he’d kiss her on the mouth. She shook with fear when rough fingers slowly traced the wound Saiha had inflicted on her breast and caressed her red-streaked flesh. He pressed his lips to her forehead as tears succeeded at last at leaking from her eyes. His mouth lingered there, the bloody odor of his savagery overwhelming her senses in waves, before he rose to adjust the heavy chains on her as if he were artfully perfecting the placement.

"All three conditions met for the barter,” said Jackal. “Silatem’s on the way—it seems they’ve begun to unravel the mess they’ve been summoned into. What a joyous moment this'll be for everyone involved."

Silatem—Talitha almost looked at the rebel leader again but stopped herself. She wasn't sure what Jackal was planning but whatever it was, it was a trap, a deadly trap for whoever showed up to stop him. She’d watched him fire at a CDFD cruiser and send it streaking through the air in a trail of fire, then crash the CDPD vessel through the temple's roof. Most of the infected students on the main floor were incinerated during his landing, set alight under the heat of the cruiser’s thrusters and destroyed without a trace. He’d hovered in the rotunda long enough to make sure they were gone.

A view of the bodies igniting was transmitted through one of the many displays on the command panel for his benefit—and hers. The students became figures of light before disappearing, and the sight felt too unreal to be real like everything else that happened. However, what she’d witnessed wasn’t a nightmare or a horrific salugalu vision. No, reality was much worse.

Jackal left Talitha restrained in her seat and returned to the bridge, leaving the partition open as he shuffled around in the back. Saiha's crumpled corpse lay somewhere in the rear and the thought of the native woman’s crushed, misshapen face and bulging eyes unsettled Talitha even when the woman’s body was far out of sight. Talitha heard Jackal move items around for a time, banging and tossing items aside, before pounding something into the floor of the bridge.

When he returned he pointed toward the vessel’s window, tapping Talitha's chin to alert her to pay attention. He motioned for her to look at the stage in front of them, where parasites shambled through blood-stained rubble, toward a stage that used to elevate temple leaders for services and now served as a pedestal of walking horrors. Talitha saw nothing there and didn't want to look, though Jackal forced her to turn her head with a firm grip of her chin.

"Silatem's arrived," he said, turning her head and gesturing to a figure slipping through the parasites with cautious movements. "Not the hero you’d hoped for in this situation, though. It's the other one. My condolences."

Talitha peered through the window, narrowing her lids as she tried to focus on the human movement ahead. Jackal summoned a projection for a closer view and she watched, noticing at once that something was off—the figure supposedly from Silatem wasn’t dressed right. The rest of the hunting company’s protective gear wasn’t present, not the gearsuit or any of the dark body armor. Didn't seem like an experienced hunter from the legacy industry leader.

Silatem. That’s who Jackal said had appeared for her.

Not the hero, though. Not the captain. The…other one.

Talitha's mouth formed the name in surprise once she realized what Jackal meant, recognizing the figure ahead of them. She tried to lean forward but the chains held her in place. Adam. That was Adam. Adam was sneaking through danger to find her—again. Adam wasn't gone. Adam wasn't dead. Adam was alive. Adam was there!

Adam!

"I'll go meet the young man," said Jackal, chuckling. "I'll say, he's got a pair to show up here, armed and hoping to fight me for you. It's…gallant. A little of that knight’s honor I’ve read about it in your human folk stories. What a remarkable show of chivalry. He might be a hero yet." Jackal shrugged. "Shame I'll kill him. He's useless to me now that our deal's fulfilled. Elias is in pursuit as well and that’s the Pendergast I’m waiting for."

Talitha grimaced as she tried to follow Jackal's departure, turning her head as much as she could manage. The wound on her throat ached, sending ripples through her system, and she stretched her fingers to restore some circulation in her wrists. She heard Jackal open the door to the cruiser and grimaced as the stench of masses of charred bodies wafted into the vessel, flooding the interior at once.

Even after Jackal closed the door the smell remained in the ship, another reminder of terrible death sinking into the vessel’s interior. Into Talitha herself, too. She saw Adam pause on stage when he spotted Jackal. Fear leapt in her chest for him.

Her eyes, wide, remained glued to the scene as Adam fell into a defensive stance, raising the firearm. His visored helmet remained unmoving as he took aim at Jackal, who approached from straight ahead.

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