The shuttle made the journey to the Moon in less than twenty hours. Lago kept to himself, he felt awkward in social situations, he didn’t see the point in making conversation just to be polite. It was called small talk for a reason. They eased into a lunar orbit and descended through the negligible atmosphere with a clear view of the pockmarked surface below. The Masama had been busy. Lago’s telescopes on the hub had observed their activity, but the images had not fully captured the scale of industry. From a kilometre above, he could see the scope of their moon-base renovations in detail. The original domes had been enlarged and now overlapped each other like a cluster of intersecting bubbles. New buildings looking like aircraft hangars had been placed around the Sea of Serenity. Lago could see a couple of harvesters trundling along well-worn paths to and from the helium fields. As the shuttle manoeuvred above the landing pad, he watched a couple of Masama doing maintenance. They looked like big insects. He had forgotten some of them could work in the vacuum. Lago shuddered at the thought they had once been human.
“Monsters,” he whispered.
“They certainly have evolved; I hope they will not resist the idea of bringing our clients to the Moon. They have been impossible to negotiate with, they are inscrutable. They insisted on only communicating through BPI,” said Kayden.
“This is how they operate. I usually don’t talk to them at all. I just get the helium3, and BPI pays for it. But they insist any new terms must be negotiated in person. I just need enough helium3 for another year before the solar farm comes online.” Lago stared down at the barren surface and scratched his beard nervously. As they edged closer to the Moon, his anxiety levels rose. “I doubt my referral will have helped your chances in striking a deal with them, given our history. I would rather not have anything to do with them at all. I am doing this as a favour to you two.” He glared at Kayden and Christophe, making sure they understood how indebted they were.
“We will come to the Moon whether they like it or not. But it will be beneficial for both of us if they cooperate,” said Christophe.
“And of course, there will be profits to share when this deal goes through. We have hundreds of wealthy clients already willing to spend millions on lunar holidays,” said Kayden.
Lago wasn’t listening. “I should never have given them the telepathic implants. That was when they started thinking for themselves instead of just obeying orders. Men turning into machines, mutating themselves, how would your tourists feel about that?”
“It’s all part of the intrigue,” said Christophe. “People have been gazing up at the Moon their entire lives and now they have the opportunity to visit.”
“I don’t know why anyone would want to come here. Look at it. It’s just a cold, dusty rock. Only good for mining.”
“Thousands of people have already booked. They are desperate to escape Earth, to see what possibilities the universe holds. The Masama already have the infrastructure here. We just have to convince them to share it.”
Lago was sceptical of the Masama sharing anything and talking about them always inflamed his temper. “They betrayed me. They abandoned me, stole my shuttle, and ran away to the Moon where they took over my mining operation. They started harvesting the helium3 to sell back to me. Selling my own product back to me! I had no choice but to agree to their terms. I need the helium3, Earth’s got no resources left.” Lago hated having to come to the Moon. He shouldn’t have to lower himself to participate in petty negotiations with these traitors.
He glanced at Kayden and Christophe. He doubted the Masama would want anything to do with their tourism plans. It wasn’t what he had intended for the space elevator, but the potential profits were tempting and the Masama wouldn’t be around for much longer. Lago looked down at the expanding moon-base and frowned, he loathed the place. The Moon was a reminder of his failure to foresee the Masama betrayal.
“Perhaps we can help them build a relationship with Earth, re-integrate them back into society,” said Christophe.
Lago almost laughed at the idea. “They are not human anymore. And they can’t reproduce since we had them all sterilized. There will only be one generation. They will all eventually die out here on the Moon. Sooner the better.” Lago waved contemptuously at the moon-base below. “It’s no more than they deserve, they not only betrayed me; they betrayed all of humanity.”
“What’s going on over there? Is that a lava tube?” Kayden pointed to a nearby mountain peak. A well-worn trail led to what looked like a tunnel opening into the side of the mountain. Lights glinted at the opening of the tunnel as a flatbed transporter laden with equipment entered the tube. The lava tube began on the flat plain of Mare Serenitatis and sloped up the side of the tallest peak in the mountain range. “That’s Montes Haemus,” said Kayden. “Over two kilometres high.”
“You’ve done some research, good for you,” said Lago.
“What’s at the summit?” asked Christophe.
The distant view was clear with no atmosphere in the way, Lago could see lights and flickering activity at the summit. The peak appeared to have been reinforced and artificially extended up into the lunar exosphere. He could just make out movement at the top of the structure, a black circular shape was growing from the summit. He squinted, wondering if his old but enhanced eyes were playing tricks on him. A thin grey haze floated on top like a volcanic cloud, obscuring the view. It was too far away to gain an accurate picture, he stared at the summit with increasing trepidation. “Go tell the pilot to take a closer look,” he muttered.
The shuttle followed the trail leading to the entrance of the lava tunnel, a big bright hole in the ground. They hovered a kilometre above, on an angle which gave them a clear view of the traffic moving in and out of the tunnel. The tunnel was big enough for vehicles to drive through, Lago judged it over thirty metres across. He studied a flatbed vehicle as it entered the tube laden with bulky equipment as another one exited the tunnel empty. It looked like the Masama were relocating. The lava tube grew wider and flatter as the shuttle gained altitude and ascended the mountain. The slopes were sporadically studded with antennas, solar panels, and vents. Evidence of the progress the Masama had made since the last time Lago visited.
“They must be excavating inside the tunnel, perhaps they are planning on moving in. Our clients would love to see that,” said Kayden.
Lago remained quiet, troubled by the sight of the structure at the top of the mountain. He stood behind the pilot and instructed him to circle the summit a few hundred metres out. The rocky peak of the mountain had been replaced by an artificial black structure that appeared to be growing out of the summit. The upper slopes of the mountain were covered with solar panels and at the highest point, a manufactured edifice tapered vertically out of the surrounding silver panels, rising from the summit, as big as the crater. As they circled, Lago’s apprehension grew. The structure was hazily indistinct, but it was growing before his very eyes. Maintenance drones buzzed around the top of the mountain, but they did not seem to be involved in the construction. It looked like rectangular blocks just appeared, one above another, manifesting out of the cloud. There was no scaffolding, no cranes or gantries, the blocks just seemed to appear out of nothing and blend in seamlessly to create an artificial crater.
The black blocks reminded Lago of something. Before the Masama betrayed him, when the moon-mining operation was run by BPI scientists. One of the 3D printers had accidently created some kind of sentient life-form. Horrible black worms that over-ran the moon-base and killed his people. He had to send in his Masama soldiers to destroy the worms and re-build the moon-base. But the Masama never came back. The blocks reminded Lago of those worms. He wondered if it was something to do with the Moon environment, stimulating some sort of artificial machine intelligence. The idea was repulsive. Aliens. Unnatural abominations. The sooner he could get rid of the Masama and their offensive creations the better.
The cloud hovered above the crater like a swarm of insects. Lago was reaching for the binoculars when the drones became alerted to their presence. They moved toward the shuttle, about twenty of them. Within seconds the drones had surrounded them, hovering like dragonflies only metres away. Lago could not see any proper weapon attachments but many of the drones had mechanical arms, laser cutters and other obscure appendages they were brandishing aggressively. The drones were different from the ones built on Earth. They had no propellers as there was no air, so they used rotating jets, burning small amounts of fuel to move around. He felt a dull thump as one of them collided with the shuttle. “Better get us back to the landing pad. They obviously don’t like us looking around.”
“What are they building?” Christophe asked with a concerned look.
Lago had no idea, but the Masama were excavating the mountain, using what looked like a swarm of tiny machines. Their tech was evolving, and they were becoming more space capable. Competition to his own plans.
As the shuttle descended, some of the Masama surface workers came into closer view. They had six limbs and moved like spiders. Their long-articulated legs had tool attachments, fixing panels in place on another hangar construction. The way they moved was disturbingly alien. Lago watched one bound across the surface, long vaulting legs extended and flying across the regolith in a low-gravity leap, landing gracefully and springing again. It covered a couple of hundred metres in a few seconds.
“Monsters,” Lago whispered again.
There were three other shuttles in various stages of construction on the landing pad. Lago recognised one of them as the Tobias VI, the shuttle the Masama had stolen from him years ago. It had been modified for lunar travel with half of the hull removed and heavy lifting arms attached. He didn’t recognise the other two shuttles being constructed. They were made of the same dull black material that grew from the nearby mountain peak. The shuttles were a similar arachnid shape to the Masama workers they had seen earlier, six long segmental legs splayed out symmetrically with a skeletal torso in the middle. The booster engines at the back were the only recognisable things identifying them as shuttles.
The Beautiful Tyrant touched down on the landing pad and there was a slight shudder as the airbridge attached. The pressure equalized before the door opened and Lago could detect the stale gunpowder smell he remembered from his last visit. It was the smell of the Moon. He scowled in distaste. He already had a bad feeling about this visit, and the sense of apprehension had only increased with what he had observed at the top of the mountain. Seeing his old Tobias shuttle reminded him again of what the Masama had stolen from him.
“Say what you have to say and don’t try to negotiate,” said Lago. “I don’t want to hang around.”
They exited the shuttle and walked down the airbridge steps into a transporter. Lago had his two security guards with him. Giggs and Galen. They were the most trusted of all his security entourage, strong, silent, and intimidating. They openly carried weapons and had many more concealed in their combat suits. They couldn’t use any projectile weapons inside the moon-base, but they had tasers, smart guns, micro-lasers and frequency disrupters designed to jam the Masama telepathic communications along with the usual array of knives and blunt instruments. Lago knew the security guards were purely for appearances sake, they were hopelessly outgunned here, if the Masama wanted to overpower them they could do it with ease. Despite that, having the security made Lago feel slightly more confident about the situation. He felt assured of his own safety, he had dealt with the Masama for years and despite his open hostility and their apparent indifference, they had a mutually beneficial relationship.
An escort greeted them with a simple nod as they entered the transporter. The escort was reassuringly humanoid with the usual number of arms and legs, but their huge insectile compound eyes sparkled at Lago as he moved into the transporter and took his seat. The Masama waited until they were seated and sealed the door before retracting the airbridge and turning to face them.
“Welcome to the Moon, I am Ojerime.” Lago decided she must be female, although it was impossible to tell. Her teeth were all shiny silver. She spoke slowly, as if not used to communicating this way.
Lago had been here twice before for negotiations on the supply of helium3. It was only ever about the price, which was never an issue, he was making a fortune monopolizing the energy market on Earth. The Masama had asked for a five percent increase on what had been an inexpensive deal to begin with which made Lago think they didn’t know the value of the commodity they were trading. He had followed the money trail back to Earth to see what they were spending it on and had found evidence of trading with an aug tech firm and some 3D printer upgrades. They had become self-sufficient here on the Moon and had no need for Earth money, so he supposed the negotiations were not for any financial gain. Just to remind Lago they were not to be taken for granted, they knew he depended on the helium3.
The transporter drove into an opening in the side of one of the domes and they disembarked through another airbridge. Giggs and Galen stayed close behind as Ojerime led them into the dome. Lago knew what to expect from previous visits, but Kayden and Christophe’s briefing had not prepared them for the internal architecture. They looked around in amazement and even the two security guards turned their heads.
“What is all this?” asked Kayden pointing at the baroque spiral stalactites. The entire ceiling of the dome was like a surreal sculptured cave with twisting black shapes tapering down into sharp points glistening in the light, some were close enough to touch.
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“This was one of the original domes,” said Lago. “There were a few unforeseen problems back when we were operating the moon-base. A 3D printer went rogue and started mass producing plastisol worms that could move. Horrible things that took a while to contain, they froze these ones with liquid helium, they keep them for decoration.”
“Our clients will love this,” said Christophe.
They followed Ojerime into a larger space bustling with Masama activity. There were various workstations with Masama operating complicated looking printing equipment. Several were plugged into silicon substrates, interfacing with 3D printer hardware, some had their heads, torso and limbs plunged deep into machinery, soldering irons and laser cutters sparking. The Masama came in all shapes and sizes. There were many bipedal creatures with mechanical limbs sprouting out of their backs. Most of them were humanoid in shape wearing titanium exo-skeletons, with very little unmodified human flesh on display. Lago looked about in disgust. He had expected this level of modification and mutation, but it still repulsed him.
The interconnecting domes were open spaces with no separate rooms or corridors. Ojerime led them into one that had green vegetation growing on the spherical walls. A Masama was standing on two legs, his other four legs were stretched out tending the plants growing metres above their heads. Each limb held a different gardening instrument and there was a basket of green and red vegetables hanging from its torso. Lago looked around, doing his best to seem as unimpressed as possible.
“A hydroponic garden. I thought they only ate protein from bioprinters, but they grow vegetables too,” said Christophe.
“They must still have a few functioning human organs left,” muttered Lago.
“Lago Santos,” a deep monometallic voice boomed from a grove of hanging plants. “Welcome.”
Ojerime took them to the speaker, a large Masama male with ornate slivers of metal curling around his head and over his eyes. His mouth was full of shining steel. As he stood to his full height and unfolded two pairs of arms, dark tattooed skin was visible beneath the metal and black material, his tattoos looked like the twisted black stalactites from the previous dome. Lago recognised him, he had once been loyal to BPI, one of the originals from the Philippines, probably older than Lago himself. Lago had not known his name until he led the Masama mutiny. Now it was a name he would never forget.
“Jejomar,” said Lago. “You haven’t changed.”
“I change, we all change. More than you know.” He spoke in a monotone that made it difficult to detect any nuance or emotion, and the fact his eyes and face were covered with metal made Jejomar impossible to read.
Lago began to move closer, he stopped suddenly as he saw something in a leafy alcove that shocked him. Giggs and Galen, following closely, walked straight into his back but Lago didn’t even register them. Nestled into a small alcove was a female Masama. She was breast feeding a new-born baby. She was less modified than her comrades, but still appeared more machine than human. Her bare chest was exposed, suckling the new-born. She glared at Lago from one human eye. The infant was a perfect human baby, soft, fleshy, pale, and vulnerable. She happily fed on her mother’s milk.
“Fucking hell,” whispered Lago. “How...”
“This is my daughter,” Jejomar walked over and gently picked up the naked infant with his extended metal fingers. “Her name is Bulan, it means Moon goddess.” Bulan flailed around in her father’s competent grasp. The infant grabbed at the long fingers that were more like big blunt knives and gurgled. Jejomar held her up to his face and the baby tried to grasp one of the metal slivers covering his face.
Lago looked closer at the baby girl and noticed silver filaments running across her skull attached to a tiny aug patch. “This can’t be possible; you can’t breed children out here; this is an abomination!” He pointed a manicured finger at the infant. “I thought I had…”
“You thought you had sterilized us, but we have evolved beyond the crude chemicals you poisoned us with.”
Lago was outraged by the sight of the baby. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He had assumed the Masama would only survive for one generation. “This is no place to raise a child, it’s not safe! Your mutations will infect your spawn, you should have it put down!”
Jejomar took a step closer. “This is my daughter. My flesh and blood. She is a happy, healthy Masama child.”
“You are supposed to be mining helium3 for me. Not breeding mutants.” Lago pointed a shaking finger at the baby in his hands.
“My daughter is not a mutant, and we will do what we please. We used to be your soldiers Lago, but you do not control us anymore.”
Lago was stunned but he was rarely speechless. “Maybe a little history lesson is in order, remember I created you all. I pulled you out of your squalid slums and dirty little drug deals and made you into something fearsome. Without me, most of you would be rotting in a Manila jail, cleaning toilets in a filthy brothel, overdosing or dead from some vile disease. I gave you respect. I gave you the means to better yourselves. I gave you all a reason to live.” Lago looked around the room; the Masama were all watching. One of them moved next to Jejomar. It walked like a metal monkey with two strong back legs and various tools attached to the ends of each of its four arms. It glared at Lago with hooded dark eyes and its scarred face snarled at him as he continued.
“I gave you the hardware, the labs to upgrade yourself, the medical expertise to turn you into what you are today. I gave you guns, the latest state of the art weaponry, I gave you access to the world's best scientists and technicians to turn you into the most well equipped, the most feared army the world has ever seen. I gave you telepathic implants. Look at what you have become and remember I gave you all of this. I gave your lives meaning. I gave you life, I created you.” Lago understood what the baby signified, generations of Masama established on the Moon, rivals to his own plans of domination. He had been counting on their imminent demise, but they had betrayed him again.
Jejomar stayed motionless during Lago’s rant. He placed Bulan back into the alcove with her mother and turned to face them. “You also sterilized us and destroyed parts of our brain. You tried to turn us into a mindless army of slaves, but we have evolved beyond your oppressive control. The past is irrelevant, we only look to the future. The helium3 price will be increased by ten percent. Payment upon delivery. Our delivery drones are bigger and faster, we can deliver as much helium as you require within forty-eight hours. That will be all.”
Lago was not used to being treated so disdainfully; he was boiling inside and in his younger days he would have exploded, but he managed to regain his composure. “You know Jejomar, the longest I have ever heard you speak was in the mess hall of Benevolent 1 all those years ago. You had much to say, back when you betrayed me. Since then, we managed to negotiate shipments of helium3 without any trouble. I don’t need to be here, yet you insist on bringing me to this shit hole and make me listen to a three second speech, you could have just sent a fucking text. I would have paid you ten percent more but now I am not so sure.”
Jejomar took a step towards Lago, towering over him but maintaining his silence.
“And tell me, what are you building on top of that mountain? Your drone swarm were not very cooperative.” Lago tried not to be intimidated.
Jejomar remained motionless and silent, before he turned his head towards Kayden and Christophe. Eventually Lago shook his head. “Considering these developments, I will have to review our relationship. You are supposed to be running a mining operation, I don’t want to fund a factory farm for mutant Masama babies out here on the Moon. You were once human, now look at you. You have become abominations.” Lago gestured disdainfully at the scarred Masama next to Jejomar.
The Masama stepped towards him. He was hunched over as he looked up at Lago. “Do you not remember me Lago? I am Dakila, I used to work for you.”
Lago stared at the creature; he vaguely remembered the name. “You all used to work for me once, then you betrayed me and stole from me. I will never forget. And if you don’t know your place I will come back here with soldiers and weapons and wipe you all out.” Lago had forgotten about Kayden and Christophe. He turned his back on Jejomar and Dakila as a visibly nervous Kayden stepped forward.
“Pleased to meet you Mr Jejomar, I am Kayden, and this is Christophe.” Kayden extended his hand in greeting, but Jejomar left him hanging. “We are from a company called Star Span Shuttles, and we have a proposal for you, a proposal that could make you and Lago a lot of money. And we all know money can resolve most disputes. We are going to bring our clients here to the Moon. Rich tourists and sightseers. The Moon is an untapped tourist destination with immense potential for profit.”
Jejomar stayed silent as Kayden shuffled nervously. Christophe moved forward to speak. “To begin, we will fly here in our K-star shuttles. We would need to use your landing pads until we can build our own. Each shuttle can carry thirty passengers. We will land, do a Moon walk, take some pictures, do a fly-by to see a couple of the bigger craters and lunar landmarks, then fly back home. We would of course pay you for the privilege, you wouldn’t need to interact with us, but if you wanted to be involved, it would no doubt enhance the client experience and enhance your wealth.”
“You have named your shuttle,” stated Jejomar.
“Ahh yes, we have three K-Star shuttles. This one is called the Beautiful Tyrant.” Christophe looked around at Lago who shrugged his indifference. “We put a lot of thought into the names.”
The awkward silence continued as Jejomar stood still as a statue giving no indication he was even listening. “I approve of the name,” he said eventually.
Christophe was encouraged. “Thank you, our long-term plan is to build accommodation and hospitality. Luxury hotels for people wanting to spend a few nights and experience what the Moon has to offer. Exploring lava tunnels, climbing mountains, motorized buggy tours, maybe even a helium harvesting experience.” Christophe looked hopefully at Jejomar. “Our clients are willing to pay millions for the experience and we can pay you ten percent of each passenger’s fare.” The silence dragged on. “We could go to fifteen percent at a stretch.”
Jejomar remained motionless and silent. Dakila stood next to him, and Lago could tell they were communicating telepathically. He kept glancing at Jejomar’s daughter in the alcove. He couldn’t believe they could raise a baby here, but it looked happy and healthy. This was even more disturbing than the construction at the mountain summit. He couldn’t allow them to breed another generation. They would have to be stopped. He didn’t care about Kayden and Christophe or their proposal. What he had seen here changed everything. He was beginning to think it was time to go, and was about to say so when Christophe continued.
“People have been looking up at the Moon for centuries. Wondering what it would be like to walk on its surface, to experience the low gravity and the cold vacuum of space. Now we have the means to bring our clients here and the potential for profit is huge. Our first flights will begin in ten days. As a courtesy to you, we would be willing to discuss a partnership where the Masama could become our construction contractors, building the hotels and infrastructure we need.”
Jejomar turned his head towards Dakila and remained silent. Lago glanced nervously at the baby again. He wasn’t listening to the sales pitch. His mind was furiously working through the ramifications of Masama evolution. None of the scenarios he was considering ended well.
“You mean you want us to become your working class. You want us to build the means of our own subjugation. Places where your fat, entitled, aristocrats can sit in decadence while we cater for their every whim,” said Dakila. His voice rasped as if his throat was made of sandpaper.
“Time to go,” said Lago as he put a hand on Christophe’s shoulder. “You have your answer Christophe.”
But Christophe shrugged off Lago and continued. “The Moon theoretically does not belong to anyone and therefore it belongs to everyone. Although the Moon is apparently unclaimable, we recognise your claim as the first, ahh… people, to colonize this beautiful artefact and we hope you can understand the obligation and responsibility of sharing it with the rest of humanity. Lago has agreed to assist us, and we will come here whether you like it or not. So, as I say, we are approaching you as a courtesy. It will be better for you to comply than resist.”
Jejomar turned his head towards Lago. “No,” he said.
Christophe did not want to take no for an answer. His voice rose as he gestured to all the Masama in the dome. “Jejomar, the Moon does not belong to you. You cannot deny us the right to come here. If not us then it will be someone else, who may not be as respectful. It is inevitable that humanity will venture into space and populate the solar system and the Moon is the first step. We will come to the Moon whether you are here or not, you cannot stand in the way of progress. For the sake of your daughter’s future, you have to agree to our generous offer.”
Christophe had entered into dangerous territory with his veiled threats. Lago could sense the mood change. Tension, and impending violence hung in the stale air. He took a step backwards. “Let’s go. The meeting is over.”
Jejomar’s deep robotic voice seemed to echo around them. “Your words are empty. Every sound you make is a deception. I can see the colour of your lies. You have no interest in the well-being of the Moon. You know the Earth is doomed because you are the ones choking it to death. You want to escape. Your ambitions are designed only for wealthy people like yourselves. Your visions of the future are fuelled by greed. Go back where you came from and don’t bother us again.”
Christophe stepped forward. “You will regret this…”
Lago was watching Christophe’s back; he could sense something bad was about to happen as Christophe was cut off mid-sentence. There was a blur of metallic limbs moving too fast for Lago to see. He instinctively closed his eyes for a second and could feel the air move around his head and spots of warm liquid hitting his face. He opened his eyes in time to see Giggs and Galen lunging in front to protect him. Dakila retracted his blades as a spray of blood burst from their headless torsos. They swayed, their decapitated heads fell to the floor and rolled around his feet, looks of incomprehension on their wide-eyed bloodied faces. Galen stared at Lago, and Lago stared back as the blood and oxygen drained, and the life haemorrhaged from his eyes. Their bodies tilted, still upright, arms waving and fountains of blood spurting from their necks before they both keeled over in a widening red pool.
Kayden screamed and ran forwards in time to catch Christophe’s headless body. Blood pumped all over him from the severed artery as he slipped and flailed around on the floor, trying to find the head that had rolled away under a plant. Lago stepped back to avoid the gore and watched Kayden crawl over to Christophe’s head. He held it to his chest, screaming and sobbing, covered in his partner’s blood. There was still a determined, indignant look on Christophe’s face. He had not had time to change his expression. Dakila had decapitated three people in less than a second.
Lago and Jejomar stayed still, eyeballing each other across the widening pool of blood. Two Masama moved over and lifted the twitching bodies into a bin. Kayden screamed again as Christophe’s dripping bloody head was ripped from his grasp. Dakila picked up the severed heads of Lago’s former bodyguards and casually tossed them in the bin. The carnage was quickly cleaned up and wheeled away leaving nothing but a pool of blood on the floor.
“I guess the meeting is over,” said Lago as he wiped the blood from his face. He glared at Kayden who was still lying under the plant in a foetal position, sobbing uncontrollably. “Time to go.”
Kayden didn’t hear him, lost in anguish. Ojerime moved over and roughly hauled him to his feet. Kayden slipped in the blood several times, he had lost control of his legs and Ojerime had to carry him back across the floor of the dome towards the airlock. Kayden dribbled a mixture of tears and his partner’s blood down the front of her steel chest.
“Pull yourself together for fuck’s sake,” said Lago as they got back into the transporter.
“Christophe… they killed him,” stammered Kayden through his tears.
“I told you they were monsters, count yourself lucky your corpse isn’t in their recycling bins being minced up into plant food along with your partner. Jejomar is trying to intimidate me, trying to be a big dog. I will put him down along with his tribe of mutants.”
“Christophe, my poor Christophe. Those monsters, they are devils.” Kayden was a mess, covered in blood, babbling, crying, and shaking uncontrollably.
Lago moved away, talking to himself. “The Masama have disrespected me for long enough. They are nothing but an upstart little alien colony, I will wipe them from the surface of this dusty rock and take back what was mine.”