BETH

The vacuum suit fell to the floor in pieces as Beth stepped out from it. It was garbage. With the airlock and space behind her she went through the maintenance corridors. She expected only little resistance before she arrived at the docks. Commander Meyer would be there for the great arrival of the long lost Au-delà. Commander Meyer; it still rolled badly across the tongue.

How much had the spectators seen of her shuttle’s mad trajectory? Everything. Too many observers and feeds for the government to filter. Hopefully she had not started a combat engagement between the City and the Au-delà. Even without it, the Admiral would be under the heat to explain everything. Was Tom still alive? She put the distracting thoughts aside and focused on navigating her way to the docks.

Revenge boiled in her stomach like a bomb ready to go off. She was so close now.

Her hand terminal had not survived the impact and she had to rely on the console displays on the corridor for navigation, but they were designed for people not knowing how to navigate to their destination. She found a route and went for it.

The sweetness flooded through her. Her throbbing rage compelled it forward. She should conserve her supply of water, but there was no stopping its surge. Not this close to the finish line.

She arrived at a dead end. But this was it. Behind this wall she would find the main docks and Jacob. And he would know Saif’s location. But it was not a dead end, a service hatch. She would need to crawl through the brief tunnel, but that was no problem. The service hatch opened easily and she crawled into the service tunnel.

Mumbling voices. Yelling. A distinct tinge of sweat in the air. The air filters were not keeping up with the crowds in the docks. She came to the end of the service tunnel, pushed the ventilation hatch open and peeked out. A giant crowd of people shouldered themselves around the docks. Even though it was a large open space the filters were not keeping up. She fell out from the service tunnel and landed on a service bridge, it was situated high above the crowds. Screams of anger and the promise of violence. There would be a riot. Combat suits shoved people back. The news of having the Au-delà’s crew in quarantine had not been pleasantly accepted. Not a surprise. Also, her crash into the city must have riled Jacob and his soldiers. Two unarmed men in uniform helped the combat suits with the crowds. Why did they not have weapons or combat suits? Maybe their weapons were too small to perceive from this distance. They were of no significance. Press forward.

Jacob would not be here among the crowds. How stupid of her! There had to be a VIP observation deck! But where? Guards would know.

A combat suit smashed the face of a man in the crowd. Hell, a riot was so close now. She could try to go deeper into the city to locate and interrogate a guard. Or someone directly below her. The crowds would go wild. A riot would bloom either way. Then she would be able to rush away and the combat suits would be hindered by the mass of people.

Beth vaulted the bridge’s railing.

Sweetness rushed into her mouth. Muscles tensed in anticipation. Her knees bent and legs absorbed the falling force. Floor dented under her feet. She straightened and turned, standing behind the line of combat suits. The closest one turned to her. The hulking metal combat suit towered over her. She smiled. Knuckles connected with the combat suit’s reinforced chest piece. Fingers dug into the edge of the new gap, she roared and threw the combat suit above and atop her head. The guard landed head first on the other side of her. Warm spots pinged on her metal skin. Beam weapons from the other guards. She shrugged the growing heat off. Her victim had been dazed by the impact. She grabbed the guard’s helmet and tore it off in one motion. A groggy face with blood trickling from his hairline.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Where is Jacob?!” Beth yelled. “Commander Jacob?!”

A giant shadow moved over her. Beth reflexively backhanded in its direction. Her hand connected solidly with metal and the shadow was launched away.

“Where is he?!” Beth yelled into the groggy guard.

The guard mumbled.

She sighed. Through the gap in the combat suit she pressed a single finger into the flesh of the guard. Knuckle deep. The man screamed.

“Where is he?!” Beth yelled again, twisting the finger inside the man’s body.

The guard scrambled with the display on his gauntlet and gestured to it. A map. It was not far to the VIP deck. She committed the route to memory.

Beth dropped the guard to the ground. Two more guards in combat suits understood that their laser weapons had no effect. They rushed her. She charged towards them. Metal suits connected with metal skin. Without losing momentum she pushed the combat suits aside and rushed into the crowd, towards a corridor. The crowd parted partly, the ones who stood in her way were knocked away. Forcefully.

Combat suits followed her. Their mechanical steps reminded her of her escape attempt back at the facility. But this time she was strong. Strong enough. She licked her lips and plowed forward, dents created in the wake of her feet.

She found the last door. Without stopping she leaned into her shoulder and tackled. The door buckled and gave away underneath her strength.

The new chamber was smaller and less crowded. Jacob! She found the old Navy man in the midst of the crowd, mingling. But why did he not look his age? He should be at least sixty. Beth shoved the thought aside and rushed forward. Jacob saw her and the look in his eyes, he recognized her. Jacob turned tail and ran. Sounds of thunder. Everything lit blue and she was thrown to the side, slamming into a wall. She shook her head. Strange to be knocked around like that, usually she did the knocking.

A man stood before her with raised palms. Blue lightning crackled in his hands and around his body. Powered, like her but different.

“Stand down,” the man said. The electricity grew in intensity.

Beth got up on her feet. “Screw you! He is mine.”

His lightning bolt would not take her by surprise this time. The bolt’s kinetic energy had knocked her to the side. The electricity itself had not even tingled through her metal skin. If she only kept her momentum right into the man, his next attacks would do nothing.

“I will hurt you. Move out of my way, thunder cunt,” Beth said and went into a rush towards the man.

Roaring lightning struck her, but this time she powered through it. Vision turned blue underneath the barrage of electricity. Beth tackled the man, who slammed into the wall. He tried to get up, but was kept down by the pain. The blood trickling from his mouth was an indicator that something might be broken inside his body. Whatever, she couldn't care less. He had been warned. She found the corridor Jacob had run into and dashed after him.

MILO

Milo wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand. That woman had metal skin and a strength beyond that of a combat suit. She was a manifestee, obviously. He coughed again. It hurt and more blood trickled between his lips. Something inside him had been injured. A bone or organ, but he could not determine what.

He came to his feet, using the wall for balance. Not paralyzed at least. The Doc or Sam would know what is damaged, they had the experience. But there was no time to consult them now. Forward. He could breathe, but every breath was painful. One breath, one step. He followed after the woman. She had gone after Jacob and there was violence in her eyes and voice. She meant to hurt, or even kill him. Had she been in the shuttle that crashed into the city? If that was true then she originated from the Au-delà. That had to be important. Jacob had said nothing about there being manifestees on that ship. His head hurt. Everything would have to be sorted out afterwards. He just had to keep Jacob alive. He looked around. Where could Carl be? Together they might have stood a chance against her. He pulled out his hand terminal, but it was smashed into pieces.

The crowd of people had gone into full riot. Combat suits were trying to contain them. But the mass and sheer willpower behind all those people pressed them hard. Carl would be somewhere in that mess and he had no time to look for him. Alright, then. He would need to manage her alone. Crackling tendrils came to life from his palms and snaked up his arms.